But I do it for the love

I recently had the opportunity to live unplugged for almost two weeks.  We will call it an opportunity, although when the disconnection began, it felt like anything but.

I consider myself a fairly evolved human being.  Intelligent, on most days.  My education is well rounded, some of which I actually remember.  I never realized how dumb doing 100 things at once has made me.  At any given time, I have my laptop, my cell phone, my tablet and either the television with a game or music on.

Our brains were not designed to deal with so many different stimuli at one time.  My pride at being a multi-tasker simply means this - I am mediocre at doing lots of activities.  I have lost the capability to give one thing all of my attention, unless I absolutely need to.

No wonder I've been exhausted, overrun, overwrought.  Anxious, despondent and furiously pissed are all accurate descriptions.  Done, most days.

Amazing things happened when I had to refocus.  I read, a lot, just like I normally do.  I wrote, almost unceasingly, and well.  I listened.  I started remembering things I had forgotten I ever even knew.  I sat, quietly, peacefully.  I watched the world around me and I gave thanks to the Lord for it.  I heard exactly what He had been trying to tell me and I understood it with a clarity that took my breath away.

I saw the sun rise, I saw it set, I watched storms ebb and flow.  And I knew, without having to over think and analyze, that life is good and worth living.  I let others help where I could not and worked on what I could control.

Since I've been home, I am easing back in to the technology tentatively.  The overwhelming urge to turn everything on at once is a hard habit to break.  But the truth is, I don't need to obsess myself with the news.  I don't need to know who had what for breakfast or which kids are perfect, still.  I will pick and choose what I expose my brain to and hopefully keep remembering the things I already know.

There is hope in simplicity, in remembering.

And I know that those who love me, remember that.  I count on it.

Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace

It's been quite a week, hasn't it?  Like most of us, I have run the gamut of emotions.  Fear, anger, hopelessness, anxiety and a feeling of unease, to name a few.  I've watched the news ad nauseam.  I've been even more of a Twitter addict than normal.  Who me, obsess?

I have another emotion that leaves me both confused and somewhat peaceful.  That is pity.  As I am disgusted and horrified by a teenage boy and his barely older brother who could commit such an atrocity, I also pity them.  Maybe it was compounded by the image of a bleeding, most definitely scared fugitive hiding in a backyard boat, after most likely contributing to another death - his brother.  Certainly it is the youthful countenance of this individual.  But why pity?  Who deserves pity after such a week?  Truth is, everyone.  For the same reason everyone is demanding the preservation of his rights under our legal system, I feel this sense of pity.

Mikey and I spent Monday afternoon finally able to sit down and watch Zero Dark Thirty together.  As the movie begins, there is a dark screen with snippets of 911 calls and messages from 9/11.  Every time I watch 9/11 related media, I am struck by how much anxiety the sights and sounds can still provoke in me.  This movie was no different.  We got to the part of the movie where they are ready to move on Osama bin Laden when we had to stop the movie, Bay was on his way home.  I grabbed my tablet and went online and saw what had just recently transpired in Boston.  Immediately, I felt dread.  Deep seated, "oh no, not again" dread.  I am sure most of us felt that, to some extent.  The feeling of what next is something that 9/11 made inherent in my nature.

Here's where things are different than they have been in my past though...after the initial 24 hours I knew I didn't have to be afraid, that God does not want us to live our life in fear.  I followed the story hour by hour with everyone else and grieved with the city of Boston, the mothers of children lost far too young.  As the attempt to flee by the suspects played out on before our eyes on TV and the facts became known regarding these individuals, of course we wonder why?  There may never be those answers, unfortunately.  And please, don't misunderstand my pity for anything other than what it is.  I firmly believe this individual should be tried and face the justice system.  But as a mother and the woman that I am, I can't help but wonder how these boys got to where they did.

So I pray for our country, I pray for the people of Boston, I pray for justice.  I will also pray for the mothers of those lost...all of them.  I leave you with a quote from the pastor of our church from a sermon I listened to today - the radical and scandalous nature of grace is that is available to everyone.  (Thanks Pastor Jamie!)  I will not let this harden my heart.

My scars remind me that the past is real

Oh, poor neglected blog.  How you have been abandoned in a frenzy of misplaced spring fever intermingled with the never ending snow showers, basketball madness and an cacophony of untamed thoughts.  I have found it a much safer option to journal my non-nonsensical nonsense in one of the many journals I keep stashed around the house than to try to compile them into, well, sense.  Which means the work on my writing project - I struggle to call it a novel, not quite there yet - has been incredible.  The more I can't communicate with others, the more I communicate with myself?  Fantastic.  I already communicate with fictional creatures and animals, what's the difference?  (My dog talks to me.  Sorry, if yours does not.)

Yesterday was a day of almost uninterrupted sunshine.  And as I peeked out of my office window, I could see little shoots of green just beginning to show themselves on the hedges outside.  Green, people!  The color of hope!  In this time of rebirth and renewal, just that tiny sliver of what will be is comforting.

You see, I need that renewal.  I crave it.  There are days that I feel it so clearly in everything that  I do, every step that I take forward and don't listen to that voice in my head, telling me, "turn back, you can't do this!".  But there has been something in this long, cold winter that wears on my soul.

I have been reminiscing as well (gee, you?  Yeah, I know).  Last year, the week before Easter was one very different than this one.  And I can say with great clarity that *I* was a very different person.  The struggle with hard, dark thoughts was my security blanket last year, not something I am now desperate to shake off.  Believing another spring would never come was my future, not my past.  Now, I sit comfortably on my couch, listening the cabin fever crazed kids outside play dodge ball, despite the not so warm temperature.  I take comfort in the sights and sounds around me, I feel thankful for the day I have had.  Despite a level of anxiety writing this post, my most pressing emotions involve how long I can stay up to watch the late basketball game and what to have for dinner.

Oh, but last year.  Last year as spring was flourishing in earnest and the faithful were preparing for Sunday, I was in a cold, impersonal hospital room having a life or death struggle within myself.  Wondering exactly how it was that I had come to be here.  Wondering if I was well enough to leave, or would be.  Months, years of spiraling behavior combined with rampantly untreated mental illness had come together in the worst of ways. And there I sat.  Alone with my thoughts, again.

This, my friends, is not my story today.  My scars exist, both physically and mentally, and I will bear them for the rest of my days on this earth.  But in this time of rebirth, I am leaving it behind.  I am not that Shan, not any longer.  There is no changing my past, but those sins, that multitude of twisted, unimaginable sins, are forgiven.  I know that they are forgiven.  Only recently have I come to also know that I can let them go, hard as I cling to them.

My story today is that in that worst of times, I found the brightest of lights and the most comforting of hands grab me and pull me out of the muck.  As I cowered in the corner of that hospital room there it was.  A voice that told me, Enough.  Enough of this.  It is time to get up, and learn to walk again in a different way.  On a different path.  This was not a voice I was unfamiliar with, I hope everyone understands that.  But it may as well have been, because it reached me in a way it never had before.  I'm sure everyone has heard that the Lord sometimes needs to bring you to your lowest to build you back up again and for me, that was absolutely true.  All the times before that I thought were the lowest, ha!  Those were pansy practice sessions.  They built upon each other until the weight was too much, until I broke into a million pieces..

But because there is forgiveness for sin, because there is redemption, I was pulled out by my hair, dragged, kicking and screaming.  I will never forget that time, because it makes me who I am, but most importantly I will never forget that it is a gift freely given, this love and grace.  I don't have to dwell.

This Easter was one of great joy from me.  Unlike last year where I sat in a back pew softly crying, having made my husband take me less than 24 hours after getting out of the hospital, I sat in the front.  Yes, there were still tears, but they were a different sort of tears.  They were a triumphant, joyful, loving and hopeful sort of tears.  Among the gifts I have received in the last year include healing, understanding, forgiveness, a renewal (and saving, really) of my marriage and a another shot at living the life that I was made in HIS image to lead.  This is nothing in comparison to the gift that has been given to all of us.

Love your family today my peeps.  (No, not those peeps.  Those are nasty)

And miles to go before I sleep..

It's March!  You wouldn't know it from the temperature and what seems like endless flurries around these parts, but the calendar and my basketball Spidey senses tell me it is true.  What is it about February that is such a giant drag?  The shortest month of the year feels like the longest to me.  Maybe it has to do with the post-holiday hangover, maybe it is just the waiting and anticipation for spring.  Of course, it's arbitrary - but I always feel a little better when I can flip that page to March.

Things have been unsettled for us lately.  It puts me in a funk and frankly, I don't like it.  I crave my routine and until I have that firmly under control again, I suspect I will remain cranky and just..off.  A couple more weeks at most, I am assured.  I apologize to anyone who comes into contact with me in the meantime.  I don't mean to be a grumpy old lady, I promise.

We recently passed our THIRD anniversary of leaving New Mexico and embarking on our big adventure to the unknown.  Three years.  Absolutely does not seem like that much time has past and yet, life now is nearly unrecognizable to that period of our existence.  Every single day brings new and positive change and I marvel at how God is working in our family.  But the day that we decided to pack all of our belongings into our old car and travel 2000 miles to a place I had never been, that day we were a disaster.  I will say a functional disaster, if you count breathing and existing as functioning.  How things never completely fell apart before then, I really have no idea.  Somehow, we left.  I remember anxiously wanting to pass state lines, to increase the mileage.  We stopped infrequently, despite the fact that the then 4 year old little man was packed like a sardine in the backseat, wedged in between hastily thrown in clothes and other odds and ends we decided not to leave behind.

Three days later, we ventured across the last state line into Kentucky and I can remember looking out into the snow covered landscape and wondering "what have we done?"  No turning back, no possibilities or bridges still standing behind us, we were here and we were committed.  Looking back now, I'm not positive I ever thought we would be here long, though I don't know what I thought we do as an alternative.  We were broke.  Even more than that, we were broken.  The lesson was learned through that period that running away is rarely an effective fix.  Issues tend to follow close behind and come back with a vengeance.  And they did, but that is only a small part of the story now.  Oh, it was everything back then, absolutely all encompassing.  Isn't it amazing how perspective can change?

In those three years, I almost always get the same response when I tell people where we moved from.  "Why?"  No one understands why we would make such a dramatic move, and to a place like this.  Here's the thing they don't understand - we love it here.  I came with an open mind and that attitude paid off.  I'm not sure this part of the country - Midwest, Upper South, Ohio Valley, whatever you choose to call it - is what you would expect, if you have never had the pleasure of visiting.  Frankly, I'm not sure what I expected.  It's cold in the winter.  It snows.  Sometimes into March, which can grow old quickly.  But when spring comes, oh my.  The flowers sprout, flowers I'd never seen in nature before.  The trees bud and oh, those trees.  I have a near unhealthy love for all of those green trees.  They grow thick and dense and when they are at their fullest, it's like a jungle, unpenetrable.  No, there are no mountains, at least where we live.  What there are in abundance are green rolling hills, beautiful and everywhere.  Spring is mild, the temperatures start cold (we are hoping for the 50's for Opening Day this year, which is April 1st) and don't really warm up until late May.  Summer is hot.  And humid, which is obviously a change for us.  Fall seems like it will never come but when it does, it's almost as magical as spring for me.  Colors changing, temperatures cooling off, football, playoff baseball, it's as prototypical as fall can possibly get.

My love affair with all things Cincinnati Reds is well documented, but as it happens in this story, the baseball experience is one of my favorite things about living here.  We are a small market team with fiercely passionate fans. Think Mikey and I fit right in?  People are all about sports here.  Another part of that is that we are firmly planted in the middle of college basketball heaven.  I can't possibly explain University of Kentucky basketball fans.  Despite the fact that we live 5 miles or less from Cincinnati, our area is definitely Kentucky.  You will know this by the omnipresent blue, wherever and whenever.  This is a fanbase unlike any other and I will admit to having more than one chuckle on their behalf.  I can't help it, it's far too easy.

I realize as I sit down to write out what I have been  ruminating over in my head for the last week that I could really go on and on.  Truly, I could work on the tourism board.  I remember the first time the kids came out, I was so proud and excited to show them as much possible.

One of my favorite spots, Newport (on the KY side) looking over the Ohio River to Cincinnati

I'm not sure they shared my enthusiasm on every little thing, but there was definitely more to do than they were used to.  So who wants to come visit next?  I promise to only show you the fun stuff.

Regardless of where we came from and why we came, I can say with certainty that this move was the best for us.  When I am asked if we will ever move back, the answer isn't no, obviously I have no way of knowing what God has in store for us in the future.  But I can say that we are not actively looking to leave here.  We struggled and fought hard to get to where we are now.  So I may moan and complain about another snowstorm, but then I remind myself of everything that I love, that God has given us in our life here, and I just grab another blanket and relax.  While watching a University of Cincinnati vs University of Louisville game, of course.

A Hazy Shade of Winter

I know we all have those periods of time in life where it feels like it's all we can do to pull ourselves together, throw together simple mono-syllabic responses and trudge through our daily life.  Luckily for most of us, those times are few and far between, but for us girls, this may also be accompanied by a raging desire to fight with someone for no reason or eat an entire tub of mint chocolate chip.

But what about when that feeling persists, becomes a squatter in your life?  I admit, I almost always panic.  The thoughts rush, the anxiety sets in and I'm already planning out how best to prepare the boys for my next foray into breakdown-ville.  We've had a series of challenges around here the last couple of weeks, and my thoughts have gone there.  I've been sleeping too little (on the couch, long story, but not so comfortable), having far too many nightmares and generally just surviving, not a whole lot of living.  I really had not understood how important routine has become to me in the last 9 months or so.  Routine or goal-oriented would hardly be a description most would use for me, and I accept that.  However, faced with routine disruption on an extended level really has me out of whack.

Slowly, I have made things part of my day that were not on the agenda before, so to speak.  Reading in the morning and before bed.  Studying, learning, absorbing.  Writing.  I have a journal by me at all times that I jot  things down in - ideas, quotes, prayers, links.  When I looked at my journal tonight, I realized the last entry was over a week ago.  My crafting, as silly as that sounds.  It calms me.  I developed a love for doing origami last spring, which always gives me and my sister a giggle.  Go fold your paper, you will feel better!  It's time for macrame in the rec room!  Really though, give it a try.  You might be surprised at how calming it can be.  Knitting, always.  My 2 projects have barely progressed this week.  See?  My routine, as small and seemingly inconsistent as it may be, settles me.  It helps me take a step back and refocus.  And at this point, those gorgeous colorwork mittens I have sitting next to me might be ready when it's 90 out and I'm ready for fall.

And then of course...we have this.

God, all of your world and its creations are beautiful, things to be awed over.  Some days the beauty of the winter sky are breathtaking.  Then there are other days where I check the tree branches once or twice to see if maybe, possibly, that might be a bud that I see?  Could it be?  Oh, how I love my green trees.  And is it a ray of sunshine I see poking through?  I am starting to long for spring.  Much as I long to be a new, growing creation.

So for now, I will force myself back into the routine, mentally check myself out of breakdown-ville, watch the first Spring Training game on TV tomorrow (!!) and enjoy the ice storm. :)

Your time is gonna come

I am having a bit of an identity crisis this week.  I don't know if it is too much introspection, too much reflecting or just my over-active brain spinning ceaselessly.  But the reality is that my brain will continue to do so and I will continue to be me and the questions I have still remain.

For so very long, I have defined myself by my past.  That's not unusual, certainly.  My problem lies in the staying in the past, defining myself by the wrongs that were done and the hurts that resulted - either by me to myself or what I perceive was done to me.  I can say that having that mindset for most of my life, coming to this conclusion was painful for me.  Continues to be.  That sounds ridiculous, right?  Sounds like therapy 101 and obviously I have had plenty of that.

It comes down to a simple truth.  I don't feel worthy.  It doesn't matter how much I read, how much I learn, how much I'm told over and over again that my sins are forgiven.  I can't forgive myself.  I try and try and sometimes I feel it, right there on the cusp, that glorious feeling of freedom from the burdens I have carried for so long.  But the doubts still creep in and whisper in my ear, "not you.  you have done too much."  I know that whisper.  Oh how I scream at that whisper, hate it.  That talk has no place in my life, in my soul.  Most days I can banish the whisper and find comfort in knowing that I am worthy.  I literally feel the weight lifting and I take deep, long, cleansing breaths.  I feel the Spirit filling me up until I am almost giddy.

This week I have been burrowing deeper and deeper trying to find respite from the thoughts.  I do not want to be known by my past.  I am so much more than mental illness, divorce, broken relationships, that ONE mom who left her kids behind.  I am more than suicide attempts, nervous breakdowns, addictions and failed careers.  I am Shan who is pulling it together and who can safely leave that past Shan behind...can't I?  Each day I grow and learn and thrive in His love.  I see that I was made for so much more, that I have so much to give - in His glory, for Him.

I know that the struggles are still many, and I know for a fact that I am not alone.  Despite the past, I see the future and it is more beautiful than I could have imagined.  What I long for most right now is to not cheapen the relationship I have found with the Lord with my doubts.  I know He is faithful.  All I can do is trust in that with all of heart and soul.  My past can stay right where it is.  

Look at them yo-yo's, that's the way you do it...you play the guitar on the MTV

A conversation with Mikey today reminded me of something that has been on my mind for the past few months. We were in a setting this morning where the topic of spending time together as a couple was discussed, including hours worked.  Afterwards, he admitted to me that he didn't want to discuss where he worked with the group.  This resonates so strongly with me, I hurt for him.  This is something I have struggled with for years.  Why does a job or a career have to define who you are as a person?  I grew up with this mindset, make sure you get the best education possible so that you can have a fabulous career.  I'm not sure where it even stemmed from, looking back.  But it was there, front and center.  If you have this standard to live up to in your head, isn't the opposite true?  If you don't have a fabulous career, then your life is somehow...less.  I have the education.  I *had* the jobs, I was working on it.  Life happened, I got divorced with 3 kids under the age of 5 to take care of and I had to get a flexible job making as much money as I could.  I went back to serving, it provided for my family.  Once I was in a stable enough place to try to get back on a career path, the jobs just weren't there for me.  That's a tough pill to swallow, but it's reality.  It's a  lot easier to hire and pay a new college graduate than it is to take a chance on a mom in her 30-somethings.

I have a job now that I really love.  A job that is perfect for my life and the restrictions I have with life and family.  Is it a career?  It could be.  But here's the thing - I don't NEED it to be, not anymore.  While I had the career-type jobs, I wasn't happy.  I was making money.  I was working.  I wasn't in the field I always imagined myself to be in, but I had myself convinced this was what was expected of me, so it was what I had to do.  I went in to college very idealistic and very, very naive.  I made poor choices, mostly based on boys. I admit it.  Regardless, the choices were made and the outcome was a hastily put together degree in something I had zero interest in.  Sounds like a recipe for success, eh?  I did attempt to make the dream of going to law school a reality, but I chose a different path.  I refuse to regret this path, as it gave me my children in the end.

So here I am.  Working, to work.  Pride makes me struggle with this, because I do worry about what other people think of me.  Fact is, most of my friends growing up who I still love and adore do have those fabulous careers.  It's only human nature to wonder what if.  That "what do you do for a living?" question is dreaded, because I think that people from my past are secretly shaking their collective heads, wondering "what happened to her?  she used to be so smart."  I've heard it from people that are closest to me!  I've been told I'm underemployed on purpose, and just not trying.  These are hurtful things, but if I didn't have that pride, it shouldn't bother me....right?  So again, I ask, why does a career have to define us?  I would rather be defined as being a good mother, a good wife, a good sister, a good daughter.  Someone who cared about others and felt passionately.  Someone in love with the Lord.  Someone who refused to let what other people may or may not think about me alter how I feel about myself.

Truth is, my priorities have changed so much.  Things that used to matter, goals that I felt I could never reach, those are intrinsically unimportant.  I continue to evolve, to learn and to change how I approach every day and I couldn't scream this loud enough to those I love - it is absolutely freeing.  Giving up that pride holding on, making me feel inferior, it feels like letting go.

What my goals are now are simple - to make myself better.  Better at all those things I mentioned.  And there is no reason at all I can't explore doing the things that I love, because I think they are somehow inappropriate or inferior.  I am writing a novel.  THIS is something I have loved since I was big enough to hold a pencil - writing, books.  I was born to be a writer in some way.  I've also decided to open up an Etsy shop for next winter, that was I can use my knitting obsession for good, and not just a way to fill an OCD need.  ;)  If I decide to do whatever, it's fine.  Because I do not need to be defined by what I do for a living, but who I am for a living.

Used to think that it was so easy...

Well hello there world!  Our not so trusty HP laptop finally took its last breath right around Christmas time.  We were terribly surprised considering it was on its 3rd hard drive and 2nd fan.  Yeah, needless to say, there will be no more HP purchases in this house.  Anywho, I am a firm believer that I can use my handy dandy precious Kindle Fire for everything interwebs related, but blogging and my writing are the two blaring exceptions.  So back to laptop it is, and here I am, in all my 2013 glory.

The beginning of 2013 has been uneventful, which is perfect. I don't make resolutions, I find them to be arbitrary this-is-what-is-expected types of goals that very rarely get accomplished.  Why set myself up for that?  This year I did make a very specific list of goals that I would like to reach, from the mundane (knit a pair of Fair Isle mittens) to the lofty (run a 5K in May and train for the 10K Warrior Run in October).  I would like to think I made a very manageable list, but only time will tell.  :)

More to the point of what I have been working on lately is this - I am striving to live an intentional sort of life.  Go ahead.  Roll your eyes and wonder why I am talking like a self help book.  I haven't completely lost it.  It occurred to me within the last couple of months that I have lived my entire life with a do what you want sort of attitude.  One of my favorite quotes perfectly sums me up - I'll think about that tomorrow.  Guess what peeps? I am not now, nor have I ever been Miss Scarlett.  It's nearly impossible to live life in a zero consequences sort of world.  Do what you want doesn't get you very far before you are scrambling to pick up the pieces the majority of your days.  I am not a genius, by any stretch of the imagination, but I am certainly an expert in poor choices and the inevitable aftermath.

Unfortunately, as I've also learned, most of these choices are not eligible for a redo.  So you live with them, you move on, you try to learn.  Here's where the intentions come in.  I want to make every decision that I make, every word I speak, every path I take mean something.  If I am making a choice that takes us nowhere, why make it?  If my words are not for good, if they are spiteful or just gossip for the sake of gossip, why speak them?  Once I had this in my head (just for the record, the idea is not mine alone.  It's more of a mashup of many well spoken, well written people I respect), it became nearly impossible for me to do otherwise.  That might sound exhausting, and if you don't like the incessant internal dialogue, this is not for you.  I am used to that non-stop chatter, so it doesn't bother me at all.  I actually think....before I act.  What a novel concept!  Not just on big things, but on little things. It's new and very different for me, but most of my life post-last Spring is just that - I am a new person through Him.  What I do in my daily life should reflect that.

I've come to have peace in places in my life that I never thought I would have peace again.  I can't explain what a refreshing feeling this is.  Imagine spending years and years waking up and having your first conscious thought be full of dread.  Now I wake up before dawn (not by choice, some things will never change!) and I look forward to what I can learn, what I can accomplish.  Which may or may not include that 10K and the bet I stand to collect on.

Next up:  what I have learned about forgiveness and how I woke up and realized, at 41, that I can be defined by more than my career choices.

God bless the child that's got his own

I began this day with a completely different post in mind.  Ironically, it had to do with how I was finding much joy in this holiday season compared to the last few years.  I still want to talk about that.  In fact, I think it's more important than ever to push that to the forefront.  But first, I need to talk about what happened today, this terrible day in a tiny picturesque New England town.  I just read a blog post that put it this way - I want to feel this to the core of my being.  (http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/tgc/2012/12/14/a-day-for-hatred/)

I don't know if I would have that level of emotion, that need to FEEL, that I do if I were not a parent.  I would feel the loss, I would grieve with the families, there would still be tears for the innocent babies lost.  Something about having children that age takes this entire nightmare to a different level.  The first thing I felt when I heard the news: devastation.  Heart break.  And of course, the why???  How can you possibly begin to answer that?  The truth is, you can't.  We will never know why, we will never understand.  As many facts as may come forward in the next days, weeks, months, there is no understanding about this evil.  Pure, unadulterated, next level evil.  I did my very best today to stay far away from political posturing.  I've been nothing but consistent in my stance that I can completely disagree with a belief on an "issue" while still respecting your right to hold that belief.  Today, that was hard.

Because this was not about guns or mental health or anything but that evil.  How, I ask you, has our world become this playground for evil that we can't even send our kindergarden students to school safely?  As many parents, the first and only thought in my head after details began coming in was I need to hug my kids and never ever let them go.  I even suggested to my sister that we take the kids and move to a small Northern European country to finish out our days, me knitting clothes for everyone and the kids fishing for our sustenance.  After that reassurance that everyone is ok in my world, my next overwhelming need was to fall to my knees and pray.  Pray for the babies who will be spending Christmas in heaven.  Pray for their broken families.  Pray for everyone that had to see that crime scene.  Pray for the innocent children left behind who might never feel safe again.

Most of all?  Pray for our world.  I pray that we haven't gone so far past that next level that we can no longer be redeemed.  I pray that this horrible incident will drive more people to their knees and away from expressing their outrage over policy on social media.  I pray for everyone that hurts, that wonders, that is heartbroken.  More than ever we need to come back to basics.  Basic human decency, love, trust in one another.  Pray for these things.

Hold your love ones tighter than ever tonight.  And if you will, please pray with me.

This ain't no holiday, but it always turns out this way..

I am a sentimental sap, I admit it.  There was a time when I would have been (read: thought I was) way too cool to admit to such tripe, but I am a huge fan of Christmas/Holiday themed movies.  I watch them all, good, bad and too awful to admit to anyone that I actually watched other than my sister.  She gets the full lure of the Lifetime and Hallmark scene when you need a good Nora Roberts or Danielle Steel moment.

There are a few of these movies that I tape and watch over and over and over again until January.  For whatever reason, I don't own any of these movies on DVD.  I watch them on TV, because, well, just because.  It seems like the way to go.  This comes to mind today because two of them, lucky me, are on today.  Welcome to December folks, amateur hour is over!  I'm not one of those that starts the Christmas caroling and decorating in October - not looking at anyone that may or may not be related to my husband, certainly - but when it's time, it's time.

First up on my list, "The Family Stone".  If you've never seen this movie and you are prone to weeping, skip this one.  I sent a text to my sister when I started watching it this morning, asking if I was indeed a masochist.  The consensus is yes, yes I am.  To be fair, this movie came out the year before my dad died and I bet I first watched it the first Christmas after that.  So of course it's a tearjerker for me.  Other than that, I have no idea why I love this movie so much.  It's full of so much uncomfortable family dynamic that at times, even when I know what's coming, I have to put my fingers in my ears and go "la la la" during certain scenes.  And SJP?  She drives me insane!  Her character is maddening in this movie, so maybe that's why it works??  Dunno.  Regardless, I watch it every time it's on, even during the summer.  Yay me.

Second one I don't feel ashamed of, although I am a bit ashamed by the fact that I never actually watched the whole film until I was an adult.  It wasn't one of those family traditions when I was growing up and let's face it, it is a long movie.  Unless you are invested, maybe too long.  Not I, though.  Not even close.  I will watch "It's a Wonderful Life" at least 4 times during the month of December, and there have been a few seasons lately that I have watched it far more than that.  Black and white, traditional, honest to God character redemption at Christmas.  Sigh.  To me, all movies should be like this.

(on a completely random note: why does a picture of Bert and Ernie with a video camera come up when I search for this image??  Awkward.)

Who doesn't cheer for good ol' George Bailey?  He's the hometown boy, constantly overshadowed by his hero brother, with "all these kids" (I always giggle at that line), Mr. Potter, who truly is a giant ass; eternally plotting against him and a crazy uncle that loses money.  And I also don't know too many people out there that haven't had a George Bailey moment in their lives.  So let the angels get their wings, I will watch this movie and recite every word to myself every single year.  Strangely, I watch this one alone, no wonder why.

That's just the tip of the iceburg!  In conclusion, I watch entirely too much television.  The End.

My head is full of magic, baby

I am in a creative mood today, a bit manic even (in a good way, I promise).  I have more than a few projects in the works and lurking on the fringes.  I feel productive!  For most of my "adult" life I think I resigned myself to the you can't do that mentality when it comes to branching out, taking a chance.

So.  What the hell am I talking about, right?

I have enough time and enough motivation at this point in my life that I can finally take a giant leap of faith and do something I have always wanted to do.  Write.  Not blog, although obviously I will do that.  But write, write.  And even more exciting?  I am DOING it, not just obsessing about it, worrying about it, planning to do it, coming up with reasons why it's a bad idea, starting and rejecting it.  Doing it.  I must say...it feels great.  It's like I have kept it all bottled up and now words and thoughts and ideas are just...there.

As bad as I am at being secretive, I'm going to keep things under wraps from everyone, including the most nosy in my life (I'm looking at you!) until I have a workable output that is worth sharing.  All I ask for is your best wishes, good vibes, prayers.  Whatever you would like to send my way.  Actually working towards realizing a dream of what I wanted to be when I grow up - which I won't - is pretty damn cool.

Current inspirational playlist: (on shuffle, obviously)**

Money Maker - The Black Keys
First it Giveth - Queens of the Stone Age
Bell Bottom Blues - Derek and the Dominos
The Catalyst - Linkin Park
Kill Rock n' Roll - System of a Down
Light of the Morning - Band of Skulls  (or as Bay calls it, the fast car song)
The Jetset Life is Gonna Kill You - My Chemical Romance
U Mass - Pixies
Mekong - Refreshments
New Born - Muse

**disclaimer:  Yes.  I realize I am quite strange.

And I haven't felt so alive, in years

My brain has been all over the map the last week.  The election stirred up too much in me, and much of it I can't get out of my head.  No, no, don't run for the hills - I'm not about to talk politics and issues.  Half the time I don't even know where I stand, so why should I subject anyone else to my rambling?

Mostly, it has made me introspective.  Thinking about life, how much things have changed since I couldn't wait to be a "grown up".  Thinking about what the near future and the far future hold for me, my family, my loved ones, everyone really.  I suspect I am probably not even close to alone in these thoughts.

I had the opportunity yesterday to have two very different interactions with people I have never met and never will.  The first was during the course of work, where I get to talk to people all day long.  Usually its not personal and not long.  Occasionally though, I run across someone who really likes to talk for one reason or another.  Yes, it's in the course of work and I should stay professional but as I also like to talk a fair amount, I almost always fall prey to the talkers.  This call was from an elderly woman in the morning that still has me thinking.  How amazing is that?  Someone I have never met shared life experiences and life advice with me that was meaningful, insightful and greatly appreciated.  I actually took NOTES while she was giving me the advice.

That conversation made me realize that so many of the things we seek answers and solutions to can't be solved.    Answers that we look for can only come from experiences we have and the life we lead.  On top of that, why are we even looking?  I know I personally do way too much thinking about things that make no difference in the grand scheme of my existence.  I have become a lot more focused on the things that I should be seeking answers to lately,  Other than that, it seems a lot more important to focus on things front and center.

The other experience was on a blog I had never read written by a man I have never met.  I came across the blog after seeing a twitter post about someone who had recently passed away.  The man lives in the area and had suffered from stage 4 inoperable lung cancer for the last two years.  The blog existed before he got sick, but became his story about his illness and how he dealt with it after he was diagnosed.  I spent a good 2 hours looking through this blog.  The strength of this man was inspirational.  Realizing that he needed to enjoy his life, he spent the 2 years before he died with his family and travelling.  He traveled to every single state and part of Canada on his motorcycle, because he wanted to.  It took many, many trips between relapses and treatment.  He did it with many different groups of friends.  He chose to experience life to the fullest.

After marveling at his stories, I found myself wondering if I could do that.  Knowing that the end was coming, could I chose joy and turn it around?  You know the people around him just wanted to bundle him up and keep him close.  I hope that if something like that ever happens in my life (not trying to be morbid, by the way) that I can embrace life and make it count.  Sounds cliche but isn't that would we should be doing?  Living life and enjoying every moment?

OK.  I feel better getting that out.  And I look forward to the next time I have an interaction that truly makes me think.  I promise to keep it light next time.  - S

Freedom..you've gotta give for what you take

Election Day, in case you were not aware.  If you were not, I envy you.  I really do.  I don't think I am in the minority with that sentiment.  Most of us are sick to death of the ads, the dialogue, the endless rhetoric and the coverage.  The non-stop endless coverage with pundits galore.  I've been joking about moving to Canada to live with a moose.

Obviously I don't mean that.  The process is important.  Does it need fixing, well yes, of course.  But it's what we have to work with.  I actually DO understand the electoral college, being the history loving nerd that I am, but it doesn't mean that it is relevant in today's age.  And other things, which I do not choose to jump up on my soapbox about.

I grew up in a very politically active family.  I learned a lot about it.  Enough that now, as a parent myself, my views are dramatically different than my parents.  And that is OKAY.  That means I learned enough and I have enough confidence in my own opinions that I don't just follow along like a sheep, going with the crowd or the popular kids.

That is not why I wanted to post today.  I know it happens every political season, but I have seen an abundance of taking politics to a personal level this year.  As in, you don't support my candidate, you are obviously ignorant.  (I'm not)  You clearly don't love children.  (I think the four of them might disagree)  You are racist and don't believe in the rights of women.  (Well, I come from a hispanic family and I have a vagina, so...)

You get the idea.  I know it goes on from both sides.  I find it abhorrent.  Perfectly reasonable people grow balls to say things they would never say otherwise.  We get further polarized and grow legions apart with this attitude.  How on earth did it become acceptable to hate or look down on an entire group of people simply  because they belong to a different party than you do?  Simply put, don't assume you know someone, or even that you know what their politics and views are.  I believe most people are not firmly in one camp or another.

I was raised in a staunchly liberal household.  Vote straight party line and don't even consider anything else.  I am an independent.  I am still very liberal in terms of many social issues.  I have found myself growing increasingly conservative fiscally as I have gotten older and certainly with kids in the picture.  I would also like to see God more present in our country.  The party I most mirror in my views is the Libertarian party.  Pretty diverse huh?  My point is this - don't assume you know.  Step back and take a deep breath.  The vitriol and nastiness is unwarranted and unnecessary.  I think most of us just want our country to be better.

I will close with this.  Vote as you will, do not judge others if they don't agree with you.  Most importantly, pray that whoever is our next president will have our best interests at heart and help those who desperately need it.  We need God's love and justice in our country.

Turning grey and it surely looks like rain

The weather has me in a funk today.  Nothing like stepping outside to go to church to find that it's not only cold, but it is "is it going to freakin' snow" cold.  I love fall so much that knowing that OTHER season is approaching makes me want to hunker down under multiple blankets and growl at people.  Blame it on the barometric pressure changes with all the storms around.

So today is my small things I am grateful for that are not sports or music related in any way.  (I can do it, I promise)

While they are still there, the leaves falling off the trees.  Doing a continuous scratch scratch scratch on the concrete outside my bedroom window, reminding me that they are still sticking around.

The velvety underside of a dog's snout.  Is there anything even remotely as soft on the planet?  I can sit and scratch Rosie's face for as long as she will let me and be perfectly content.

The color of the sky at the exact moment of twilight, dusk, whatever you choose to call it.  Its a deep blue indigo, a color almost without a name.  There is a spot in time at that exact moment where the world seems to go almost silent, as if nature needs to take a deep breath before switching over to night.

Getting a package.  Man, I am such a kid when it comes to mail.  Good mail, obviously, not the grown up variety.  Since I don't get letters like I used to, its generally in the form of packages.  But it makes no difference to me.  Even when I know the package is a bottle of vitamins and some notebook paper, it still holds that level of excitement for me.

The way every kid, I don't care how old they are, looks a guaranteed half their age while they are sleeping.  I could watch my kids sleep all night, if I thought they wouldn't wake up and think I was some sort of maternal stalker.  There is just something so sweet and innocent about sleeping kids.

The feel of the pages in a brand new magazine.  Now I will admit, I've mostly switched over to digital versions of my favorite print magazines, more for convenience sake than any real issue with magazines.  The other day I happened to pick up a magazine at the check out in line at the grocery store and I had an aha! moment.  This is what's missing.  The actual feel of the pages!  Not only that, but in many of the magazines I frequent, the smells.  You just don't get that from a Kindle.

I have been a dreadful insomniac since I was born it sometimes seems.  So this next one is a rarity for me, but still amazing.  That feeling that you get right as you know you are going to fall into a deep sleep.  A sense of peace, near paralysis of your body and just...rest.

Sigh.  See?  I feel better all ready.

Whenever I get this way, I just don't know what to say

I've lost my bloggy, it seems.  Trust me, it isn't because I have nothing to say.  That could be a fatal flaw of mine, always something to say.  And I am still grateful, that is not the problem.  No giant obstacles, no writer's block.  Just time.

We got caught up in baseball fever.  We had our hearts broken when the Reds imploded.  We had a great time celebrating downtown.  Then I decided it would be a great time to fall oh so gracefully and wreck my knee.  We have spent the time since then shuttling back and forth between medical appointments, dropping outrageous money on co-pays along the way.  I could go on a healthcare rampage here, but I will take a deep breath and recall my previous "grateful for insurance" post instead.

Really, there's nothing out of the ordinary going on.  I think it has been a moment of refocus.  I've been reading a lot of really profound earth changing blogs and I start to feel a little shallow and pointless.  I know that it is not the case, in theory, but man.  Reading about people doing missionary work, describing these life altering trips to Haiti makes me sit back and wonder.  I will get into that later.  I've been doing a lot of thinking about change, with a capital C.  We will see where it leads.

I went back to work full-time this week, which is HUGE.  I try not to focus on it.  Honestly, is it that different?  I have one day less off a week.  I still get to work at home.  My job still rocks.  I also switched up some medical stuff, but that's neither here nor there.  I actually feel pretty great now.  I'm a walking pharmacy, but if I learned one thing over the last year or so, it's to trust the opinions and advice of those with much more expertise than I have.

Moral of the story, it's all good.  I will be back to being grateful tomorrow.

Sticks and stones may break my bones

I've been absent in my blog posting, I know.  It's been...a  week.  Some good, some bad.  We got to go downtown and have a great time outside of the stadium for game 3.  And then we lost.  3 games in a row.  No more playoffs.  I suppose that's not the worst thing in the world, I wasn't sure I could make it through another series.  128 days until pitchers and catchers report, in case anyone was wondering.

Bad, well, while we were having fun I practiced my pretend like you are coordinated act and tripped and fell flat on my kneecaps.  I would not recommend doing this.  I'm not sure I've ever felt pain quite like it.  I suffered for a few days and finally broke down and went to urgent care today.  Good news?  Not really.  Kneecap wasn't broken but it looks like other structural damage is in play, so I get to visit a brand new doctor next week!

I am grateful I have insurance.  (Even if I do have to pay too much in copays, but that is a post for another day)  I really am.  I've had too many clumsy injuries like this when I didn't and they ended up lingering forever.  I am hopeful its something simple and easy to fix, but if it isn't, at least I have options?

Back to the warm and fuzzies this weekend.  I need a pain pill.

All the small things, true care truth brings

It's simple pleasures day for me today.  For whatever reason, I am feeling like retreating under the covers.  But there is always a reason to peek out.

I am grateful for the few green leaves that remain among the vibrant gold and red.  I love this time of year, but I love my trees.  The trees are one of my biggest pleasure living here and it is like saying au revoir to a dear friend every year when they shed their leaves.

Fuzzy socks.  Yep, fuzzy socks.  It has been chilly here the last few days, downright cold to me.  Those silly little fuzzy socks have helped my shivering, along with fuzzy blankets.  I am sure if my coworkers and customers could see my getup they would get a good chuckle out of it.  Have I mentioned how much I work from home.

Again I am grateful to live in a place where we can DO things.  We can't afford to go to game 3 of the NLDS tomorrow, but we are going to go and hang out right outside the ballpark along with who knows however many hundreds of other people tomorrow.  And tomorrow, I will be totally grateful for the sweep of the Giants.  :)

And lastly, I am grateful for this blog.  It has been my own little personal outlet to voice the thoughts that ramble around in my head.

Don't blame us if we ever doubt you, you know we couldn't live without you

Ah yes.  This one shouldn't be too hard to see coming.  I swear, sometimes I feel so shallow and transparent.  But the thing about being "shallow" is that I really enjoy the simple pleasures in life.  Seriously.  It really doesn't take a grand gesture to make me happy or to entertain me.  Which is why I think I like sports in general so much.

Baseball.  If you get it, you get it.  If you don't, you just don't and there is not anything I am going to say to convince you.  Trust me, I have tried.  No amount of  "there are really cute boys" or "c'mon just support my team!" will convince my beloved sister to give it a try.  Her loss.  ;)

I haven't always been a fanatic of the sport like I am now.  The entrance into my life of a certain Mr. has turned me from casual fan to ridiculous fan.  Yup.  THAT fan.  Moving to a city with an actual big league team has only fueled that fire.  While I watched baseball on tv before, now we can go down to the park with very little effort (we live less than 10 miles from GABP) and usually not so much cash expenditure.  There is something very different about watching the game live, which I am sure most fans will agree with.  We are now on our third summer in the area and I am a full blown crazy Reds fan.

(To stop the questions before they begin, yes.  I am still very much a Red Sox fan.  I just prefer not to discuss them in their current state.  Its all about the Reds love baby)

Today's grateful is that silly little game.  Oh, and its a combo post for the weekend because I am in the midst of a preseason frenzy.  I wrote the rules, I can break them.

It really is a silly game.  Grown men running around after a little ball, insane superstitions, inane rules like the infield fly rule.  Yeah, I went there.  Despite all its silliness, it brings people together.  It brings families together.  We watch all together here.  I chat on the phone with Dilly in New Mexico during games.  And when things get tough, as they have been known to do around here, sometimes its easier to sit quietly and watch a baseball game than it is to stress over more worldly matters.  That is the main reason I am grateful.

Baseball lets me have pure joy while putting aside other thoughts for just a little while.

Go Reds.

Times like these you learn to love again...

(I started this post last night, but then I decided I would rather just...be)

Today is a milestone for me.  Not a very pretty one, but a huge one.  Today is the day after the regular season of baseball ends and the postseason starts.  Not so long ago, six months to the day, to be exact, I was gearing up to go to Reds opening day the next day.  Well, in theory.  In reality, everything that had been unraveling in me came completely undone.  Not just a little fraying, but like a giant ball of yarn that a cat has been playing with for hours and strewn all over the living room undone.

In the aftermath of the destruction that this caused, I rested.  I healed.  I cried.  I prayed.  A lot.  I raged.  I went to appointments.  Doctors.  More doctors.  Pharmacies.  I went to be every single flippin' night not thinking I could get up and do it all again the next day.  And yet every single flippin' day I woke up.  I didn't know why.  All I wanted for so long was to not.  Not to wake up.  Not to hurt.  Just...not.

Here's the thing about all of that.  Once you start on the clean-up, you have to see it through.  So more than anything, I fought.  Because I knew what the cost was for giving in.  I fought, and am still fighting, as hard as I could, as hard as I can.

Today I am blessed to be alive.  I am grateful for it, which I might not have said even two months ago.  Like I said, I am still fighting.  I have a strong support system of friends and family near and far, they keep me going.  God keeps me fighting.  Lifts me up.  Reminds me that I am something of worth and that I still have so much more to give in this world.

Today, just live.  <3

What do you love about music? To begin with, everything.

I love  music.  I always have.  Music has been my constant companion for as long as I can remember.  From when I very young, it has been a part of my life.  My tastes have changed somewhat, but generally, not a lot. I like to rock.  Pure and simple.  I can remember listening to what is now classic rock with my dad at an age where I should have probably been listening to more age appropriate genres.  Like the crap my mom listened to.  But I digress.  ;)

A band that irrevocably changed me was Nirvana.  I know some of you (and I see you, by the way) just groaned at that.  My love affair with all things Nirvana is well documented.  Anyway, my item of gratefulness today begins with Nirvana.  The drummer of Nirvana, specifically.

I adore Dave Grohl.  Truth be told, I have an unhealthy obsession with Dave.  Ask Bay.  This is daddy #3.  When I *finally* got to see Foo Fighters live last year I cried for the majority of the show.  Yep, I'm that fan.

Oh Dave.  Imagine my dismay today upon learning that Foo is taking a "break".  Horror.  Extreme unhappiness.  Instant Foo listening marathon.  Tears.  Yep, that fan.

Here is where the grateful comes in.  I am GRATEFUL for this man and his beautiful music.  Ok, he screams more than he sings.  But to me, he sings the most wonderful melodies known to man.  His music and this band have been a big part of every single thing I've gone through for so very long?  They speak to my soul.  I don't know what to do thinking their new music won't be a part of my life again.

I love the Foo Fighters.  I am so glad I got to see them on what may very well be their last tour, for the very first time.  And the music will still continue to speak to me as it has for the last 18 years.