Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Oh The Insanity
Have you ever felt a compulsion to do something absolutely insane for no good reason? Or at least no reason that you could adequately explain to someone else?
Apparently, I have. I am training to run a 5K. There's really not a good reason beyond that I feel I must prove to myself that I can do this. Which is a great motivator until I'm actually out running. Or, rather, jogging ever-so-slightly-faster than I walk.
I don't have any visions of grandeur, or winning, or even ever running very fast. That would be ridiculous. But then again, I already feel ridiculous gasping along the trail, yelling at Zippy to not go too far, urging Munchkin to keep up, and trying to keep the dog from pulling the stroller into the canal.
I can now do about 1/2 mile all at once. I can even do a couple 1/2 miles with just a little walking in between. But the 5K I want to run is in less than 4 weeks. I'm panicking a little. But I refuse to give up. Even if I end up walking parts of the race, I need to do this.
I roped my little brother into running with me. I have the feeling that, even though he started training after I did, and probably has less time to run between school and working, he'll kick my trash when we run together. It's a good thing we love each other. He'll forgive me for making him train to run while he's in school, and I'll forgive him for being younger, faster, and in better shape than me. It's a good trade.
This is one of those goals that seems to come out of nowhere, and really doesn't make sense. But it's a goal that is a driving force in my life right now. I have passion and desire to meet this goal, and I can't afford to waste it. Who knows, maybe after I meet this one, I'll actually be inspired to work on the rest that are languishing in my never-ending pile of "things I REALLY should be doing."
So, I want to know. What goal (whether seemingly impossible and insane or not) is stirring your passion right now? And what other ones are you ignoring?
Monday, April 4, 2011
Traditions We Hope Not to Repeat
What do you do between General Conference sessions? Eat a big meal? Head to the park? Play games? Take another nap? All good things. The one thing I don't recommend is taking your daughter to the emergency room because she swallowed a battery.
Yes, that is an Xray of Munchkin's body. That round white dot near the stomach is the button battery that she swallowed.
We were getting shoes and coats on to head to Grandma's house for a big family meal between sessions. Munchkin started pointing at her tummy--which could mean anything from, "I'm hungry, Mommy," to, "See! I put my shirt back on!" So, thinking I was being a great Mom (and also because I'm tired of the mute pointing), I said, "I'm sorry honey, I can't understand you unless you use your words. When you're ready to use your words, let me know."
That's when she said, "I swallowed a battery." Just matter-of-fact. I lost it. I think I may have even scared her a little. Suddenly, Mommy's volume has turned way up, and her eyes are bugging out of her head. Hmmmm, what's wrong Mommy?
So, we went to the hospital instead of Grandma's house. The whole way there, Munchkin was very quiet. Finally, as we're pulling into the parking lot, she quietly says, "Are they gonna cut my tummy open?" Oh heavens, my dear little girl. I reasurred her they would do no such thing. I didn't, however, mention that I had no idea if they would have to pump her stomach. Neither of us needed to think about that. Thankfully, Grandpa met us at the hospital and took Zippy and Little Man home with him so we wouldn't have to worry about them.
When we were done with paperwork and waiting behind our very own curtains, Munchkin looked around and asked, "Where are the cutters?" I guess I didn't do a very good job of reassuring her.
After a remarkably short time, we were assured that the only danger from these small button batteries comes if they get caught in your esophagus. That's where they are likely to disintegrate. But Munchkin's was already past her stomach, and will pass naturally. And, huge thanks here, we don't even have to watch for it to pass!!! Yeah!!!
While we were at the hospital, Munchkin managed to charm everyone around us. She assured the nurse very seriously that she is not allergic to butterflies. She was very brave and followed the Xray techs directions perfectly. She took really good, deep breaths. The only problem was convincing her to let out the air. They kept saying, "She's just so cute!"
Munchkin has spent the last 24 hours telling everyone she can about the whole experience. She carries our copy of the Xray picture around everywhere, even showing it to the carpool kids this morning. And her glow-in-the-dark sticker from the Xray tech may just be her new favorite posession.
This is not what I planned on doing between sessions yesterday, but I sure am grateful it turned out so well. And that it's over. Here's hoping your Conference Weekend was less eventful than mine.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Simple Pleasures--BOGO
I know I'm behind. But that just means there's two simple pleasures tonight.
I'm not offering much explanation for these two, becuase I don't think they need a lot. My simple pleasures for tonight are:
New Shoes and Chocolate.
Both relatively inexpensive, and both offering a rush of endorphins. What makes you feel better than new shoes or chocolate? Enough said.
I'm not offering much explanation for these two, becuase I don't think they need a lot. My simple pleasures for tonight are:
New Shoes and Chocolate.
Both relatively inexpensive, and both offering a rush of endorphins. What makes you feel better than new shoes or chocolate? Enough said.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Simple Pleasures--A Sleeping Child
There is something divine about a sleeping child. And I mean that in the most religious way possible. I think when a child is sleeping is when I can most clearly see them through the eyes of God's love. And not only because when they're asleep they aren't covering everything with jam, or wailing like howler monkeys, or asking for snacks they're never going to eat.
When my children sleep, I can see them without the distraction of my own reactions. I can see the hope and peace stored within them--a gift from Heavenly Father. I can see their personalities shine through too. Zippy always tangles himself in his blankets. He can't seem to be still even in sleep. Munchkin stretches her legs and arms out as far as they can go. She wants to be everywhere all at once. Little Man snuggles any blankets or toys that are in reach, and curls up onto his stomach--little bottom in the air. He's my lovey, snuggly child.
Right now, I'm especially grateful to have sleeping children. For the moment, they are all sleeping deeply and peacefully. After 3 weeks of sickness, that is a small miracle.
When my children sleep, I can see them without the distraction of my own reactions. I can see the hope and peace stored within them--a gift from Heavenly Father. I can see their personalities shine through too. Zippy always tangles himself in his blankets. He can't seem to be still even in sleep. Munchkin stretches her legs and arms out as far as they can go. She wants to be everywhere all at once. Little Man snuggles any blankets or toys that are in reach, and curls up onto his stomach--little bottom in the air. He's my lovey, snuggly child.
Right now, I'm especially grateful to have sleeping children. For the moment, they are all sleeping deeply and peacefully. After 3 weeks of sickness, that is a small miracle.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Simple Pleasures
There has been a lot of turmoil and chaos in my life in the past few months. Zippy was diagnosed with ADD/ADHD; Z-man's work schedule has undergone major changes; my depression has threatened to return; my grandfather passed away (requiring a quick and intense trip to the midwest); and I've been stuck in the house for the past 3 weeks with sick kids. I am discouraged.
So, in an effort to break myself out of this funk, I'm going to count my blessings.
Every day for the next 31 days, I'm going to list a simple pleasure that I am grateful for. Something that gives me joy or hope. Something that lifts my spirits.
This list will take me into Spring--which is a much more civilized season, if you ask me.
So here we go:
I am looking forward to one of my simple pleasures tonight. It won't happen until next week, but I'm already looking forward to it. After the kids are asleep and the house is quiet, I will change my clothes and slip out to play volleyball. I can hardly wait.
Volleyball is the only sport I enjoy without reservation. The jumping, running, diving, I just love it all. We play co-ed, so the net is high enough to present a challenge for me. And is there really anything better in sports than stuffing a powerful hitter who doesn't expect it?
Z-man laughts at my devotion to the weekly games. He understands my need for release, even if he doesn't participate in the outlet. He did, however put his foot down each time I got pregnant. I tend to end up on the floor multiple times in a game. But I wear any scrapes or bruises with pride. They mean that I've played hard.
There is a primal joy in such a physical activity. Sweating, breathing hard, making your body do what you want, laughing with friends, pounding out tension and frustration. An added benefit is the boost in confidence that comes from participating in something you're good at. I end the night relaxed, optimistic, and physically drained.
I can't wait.
So, in an effort to break myself out of this funk, I'm going to count my blessings.
Every day for the next 31 days, I'm going to list a simple pleasure that I am grateful for. Something that gives me joy or hope. Something that lifts my spirits.
This list will take me into Spring--which is a much more civilized season, if you ask me.
So here we go:
I am looking forward to one of my simple pleasures tonight. It won't happen until next week, but I'm already looking forward to it. After the kids are asleep and the house is quiet, I will change my clothes and slip out to play volleyball. I can hardly wait.
Volleyball is the only sport I enjoy without reservation. The jumping, running, diving, I just love it all. We play co-ed, so the net is high enough to present a challenge for me. And is there really anything better in sports than stuffing a powerful hitter who doesn't expect it?
Z-man laughts at my devotion to the weekly games. He understands my need for release, even if he doesn't participate in the outlet. He did, however put his foot down each time I got pregnant. I tend to end up on the floor multiple times in a game. But I wear any scrapes or bruises with pride. They mean that I've played hard.
There is a primal joy in such a physical activity. Sweating, breathing hard, making your body do what you want, laughing with friends, pounding out tension and frustration. An added benefit is the boost in confidence that comes from participating in something you're good at. I end the night relaxed, optimistic, and physically drained.
I can't wait.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Kitchen Doors
A good friend of mine dropped by a few days ago and we spent an hour chatting at my kitchen table. That was one of the best house I've had in weeks. I wasn't expecting her; my house wasn't clean; my kids weren't even dressed. But she didn't care about any of that, and I feel closer to her now. More comfortable and less inclined to hold myself back or hide imperfections.
In the past, these kinds of visits were much more common. Friends and neighbors came and went through the kitchen door. And family never would have thought to use any other door. The front door was for strangers and formal guests, not the people you love most. And those same family, friends, and neighbors used that kitchen door often. Visits were common, nearly daily events. You would stop in to see someone on your way somewhere else, or perhaps that was your destination. Or someone would come calling at your kitchen door. It opened right into the heart of your home. And no one thought twice about spending time chatting with one another. Lives were not so busy that a few minutes couldn't be found to spend with someone you love. Or even just someone who amuses you. And, if you were lucky, you had family and friends comfortable enough in your home to simply walk right in. No knocking required.
Some may think this is an idealized, romanticized, and possibly unrealistic view of the past. Lives have always been busy, and relationships sometimes have to take a back seat to the necessities of living. But I can tell you it's not unrealistic. When I was young, there were neighbors across the street that became family. If I wanted Tang for lunch, I walked across the street near lunchtime. If they wanted pickles, they came to our house. And the doors were completely open in either direction. No doorbells, no permission needed. We were home in either house.
Unfortunately, where I live, everyone seems so wrapped up in their own lives, that there's no time to share in another's life.
This isn't to indicate that I want ANYONE to just walk right into my house. There are still times and places for social niceties. And my literal kitchen door happens to be behind my fence--just where I like it to corral dogs and kids. Perhaps what I want, then, is a feeling of an open door. A guaranteed welcome from and for those I love. I would love to have friends that felt they could walk right into my house and be welcome. And I want my family to feel the same. I would love to feel confident enough in my reception to be able to walk into my close friend's houses the same way. The open doors of the past have by and large been lost. And I mourn that loss.
Dad and I were talking about this a few weeks ago, and the conversation wound its way around to Facebook, Twitter, and other forms of social media. Much of it was very interesting, and a lot of it was me trying to explain both to him and to myself why I resist most of this style of communication.
How does social media relate to my sense of loss? Today's world doesn't run to families living within a few steps of each other. No, now families and friends are separated by thousands of miles. And email, Facebook, blogs, etc. can all be useful for keeping in touch and feeling connected. But I think they're wonderful tools that are being misused. Obviously, I can't hate them all as this is posted on my very own blog. But they're used in place of the personal connection. No one writes letters or sends cards--both of which take more effort to prepare and encourage more thought as to the content included. Phone calls are even becoming rare--which is a shame too. Hearing the voice of a loved one is precious and worth far more than an announcement on someone's "wall." Visits in person are even more rare. How long has it been since someone just dropped in to see you? How long since you dropped in on a friend?
I realize that this is not going to be a popular opinion. I also know that by posting this on my own blog, I'm opening myself to the possibility of being seen as a hypocrite. I want to be sure that I clarify. I don't have anything against any of the social media tools. I like writing on my blog and reading others'. I text Z-man at least a couple times every week because he can't answer the phone at work. I use email every day, and my life would be very different without the internet. I met some of my very best friends through a website/forum. Most of my family and nearly all my friends have a Facebook page--even Z-man does. But lately I've been missing the personal communication that no longer seems important in the face of so many different forms of communication.
So, now you don't have to wonder why I'm not on Facebook. I probably will eventually make a page for myself. Simply because it is a good tool that can be used to keep in touch with people I love and want to stay close to. But don't expect a lot of time on there. I'd much rather have you over to visit. I can't promise my house will be clean, but I can promise you will be welcome.
In the past, these kinds of visits were much more common. Friends and neighbors came and went through the kitchen door. And family never would have thought to use any other door. The front door was for strangers and formal guests, not the people you love most. And those same family, friends, and neighbors used that kitchen door often. Visits were common, nearly daily events. You would stop in to see someone on your way somewhere else, or perhaps that was your destination. Or someone would come calling at your kitchen door. It opened right into the heart of your home. And no one thought twice about spending time chatting with one another. Lives were not so busy that a few minutes couldn't be found to spend with someone you love. Or even just someone who amuses you. And, if you were lucky, you had family and friends comfortable enough in your home to simply walk right in. No knocking required.
Some may think this is an idealized, romanticized, and possibly unrealistic view of the past. Lives have always been busy, and relationships sometimes have to take a back seat to the necessities of living. But I can tell you it's not unrealistic. When I was young, there were neighbors across the street that became family. If I wanted Tang for lunch, I walked across the street near lunchtime. If they wanted pickles, they came to our house. And the doors were completely open in either direction. No doorbells, no permission needed. We were home in either house.
Unfortunately, where I live, everyone seems so wrapped up in their own lives, that there's no time to share in another's life.
This isn't to indicate that I want ANYONE to just walk right into my house. There are still times and places for social niceties. And my literal kitchen door happens to be behind my fence--just where I like it to corral dogs and kids. Perhaps what I want, then, is a feeling of an open door. A guaranteed welcome from and for those I love. I would love to have friends that felt they could walk right into my house and be welcome. And I want my family to feel the same. I would love to feel confident enough in my reception to be able to walk into my close friend's houses the same way. The open doors of the past have by and large been lost. And I mourn that loss.
Dad and I were talking about this a few weeks ago, and the conversation wound its way around to Facebook, Twitter, and other forms of social media. Much of it was very interesting, and a lot of it was me trying to explain both to him and to myself why I resist most of this style of communication.
How does social media relate to my sense of loss? Today's world doesn't run to families living within a few steps of each other. No, now families and friends are separated by thousands of miles. And email, Facebook, blogs, etc. can all be useful for keeping in touch and feeling connected. But I think they're wonderful tools that are being misused. Obviously, I can't hate them all as this is posted on my very own blog. But they're used in place of the personal connection. No one writes letters or sends cards--both of which take more effort to prepare and encourage more thought as to the content included. Phone calls are even becoming rare--which is a shame too. Hearing the voice of a loved one is precious and worth far more than an announcement on someone's "wall." Visits in person are even more rare. How long has it been since someone just dropped in to see you? How long since you dropped in on a friend?
I realize that this is not going to be a popular opinion. I also know that by posting this on my own blog, I'm opening myself to the possibility of being seen as a hypocrite. I want to be sure that I clarify. I don't have anything against any of the social media tools. I like writing on my blog and reading others'. I text Z-man at least a couple times every week because he can't answer the phone at work. I use email every day, and my life would be very different without the internet. I met some of my very best friends through a website/forum. Most of my family and nearly all my friends have a Facebook page--even Z-man does. But lately I've been missing the personal communication that no longer seems important in the face of so many different forms of communication.
So, now you don't have to wonder why I'm not on Facebook. I probably will eventually make a page for myself. Simply because it is a good tool that can be used to keep in touch with people I love and want to stay close to. But don't expect a lot of time on there. I'd much rather have you over to visit. I can't promise my house will be clean, but I can promise you will be welcome.
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