"On January 1, 1660, a young government worker in London started a diary. He wrote about going to church, where the preacher was saying something or another about circumcision, and about lunch afterward: he mentioned that his wife burned her hand while heating up turkey leftovers.
For the next nine years this guy wrote every single day.
What I think is that this guy...wrote down all the details of his life for none years because the very act of writing them down made them important, or at least singular.
There's a dangerous, confessional thrill to opening up your emotional life and brain to the world at large and the Internet makes it all so much faster and more breathless and exciting."
I want moments in my life to be important and singular.
This blog is a fun place for me....a dark place for me....a record of things....a scrapbook of memories....a way to show off photography. But I hope when I look back on my entries, however boring, mundane, or even perhaps cheesy, I'm proud that I at least tried to write them down. Not nearly as often as I should....but it's a start.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Friday, November 30, 2012
a moment....hopefully not the last.
It was just a moment.
One he will never remember, I'm sure.
But this momma will remember it....and look back and remember that it may possibly be the last time my baby boy ever falls asleep in my arms. (one can hope I will be proven wrong....)
It happened on a cold afternoon after school, KJ was snuggled up against my other arm playing on my cell phone, and Carter was at my other arm quietly watching Looney Tunes. Auntie MoMo had come over for dinner and we were talking and I was idly playing with Carter's longer-than-usual hair. In the middle of a sentence to my sister, I realized that the weight of my son felt different, as if he somehow melted into me. It was a weight of complete abandonment into his momma's arms.
(I whispered for Eric to get the camera, just in case Carter decides from now on he's just too big to crawl into his momma's lap and fall asleep, safe and sound, loved beyond words)
I'm thankful for this moment. I'm thankful for the moments I'm choosing to live in and to savor and to feel, and just to know.
I am such a lucky mom to have a son. What a relationship. What an honor. May he grow in confidence in the love of his family. Because, mr. bubba-head you are loved like you don't even know. SO big.
I'll always remember and cherish the memories of your sweet hot breath on my neck and the comfort my arms gave you. Know that you can always run into them.
I'm one lucky mom :)
One he will never remember, I'm sure.
But this momma will remember it....and look back and remember that it may possibly be the last time my baby boy ever falls asleep in my arms. (one can hope I will be proven wrong....)
It happened on a cold afternoon after school, KJ was snuggled up against my other arm playing on my cell phone, and Carter was at my other arm quietly watching Looney Tunes. Auntie MoMo had come over for dinner and we were talking and I was idly playing with Carter's longer-than-usual hair. In the middle of a sentence to my sister, I realized that the weight of my son felt different, as if he somehow melted into me. It was a weight of complete abandonment into his momma's arms.
(I whispered for Eric to get the camera, just in case Carter decides from now on he's just too big to crawl into his momma's lap and fall asleep, safe and sound, loved beyond words)
I'm thankful for this moment. I'm thankful for the moments I'm choosing to live in and to savor and to feel, and just to know.
I am such a lucky mom to have a son. What a relationship. What an honor. May he grow in confidence in the love of his family. Because, mr. bubba-head you are loved like you don't even know. SO big.
I'll always remember and cherish the memories of your sweet hot breath on my neck and the comfort my arms gave you. Know that you can always run into them.
I'm one lucky mom :)
oh, sweet memories.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
to whom it may concern,
Please be patient while I decide if I can trust you.
Let me tell you my story.
The whole story.
In my own way.
I am not a person.
I am this person.
Don't judge me as right or wrong,
good or bad.
I am what I am.
That's all I've got.
Don't assume your knowledge of me is more accurate than mine.
It's not.
You only know what I have told you.
That's only a part of me.
Don't ever think that you know what I should do.
You don't.
I am still the expert about me.
Don't place me in a position of living up to your expectations.
I have enough of my own.
Please hear my feelings.
Not just my words.
Accept all of them.
If you can't, how can I?
Don't try to save me.
It's already been done.
Sincerely,
Let me tell you my story.
The whole story.
In my own way.
I am not a person.
I am this person.
Don't judge me as right or wrong,
good or bad.
I am what I am.
That's all I've got.
Don't assume your knowledge of me is more accurate than mine.
It's not.
You only know what I have told you.
That's only a part of me.
Don't ever think that you know what I should do.
You don't.
I am still the expert about me.
Don't place me in a position of living up to your expectations.
I have enough of my own.
Please hear my feelings.
Not just my words.
Accept all of them.
If you can't, how can I?
Don't try to save me.
It's already been done.
Sincerely,
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
fall break friday fort
(say that ten times fast....I dare you)
The kids had a big trip to Chicago with their dad planned over Fall Break, so Eric and I decided to keep it low key on Thursday night. As soon as the kids got home from school, I let them play outside after dinner for as long as they wanted, and then we went to Redbox where they picked out The Lorax, and I built a fort in their living room to snuggle up and watch the movie.
This is getting so sappy, I want to puke. Truthfully, yes I wanted my kids to have a fun night, but I also kinda wanted to watch tv myself, and keep them occupied with little effort. Mom confession? I suppose so.
However, my little boy and girl DID have a blast, and two bowls of popcorn, a bag of Skittles and M&M's they said it was the BEST fort ever. Do you they make badges for that?
lucky kids.
and a WAY luckier momma.
The kids had a big trip to Chicago with their dad planned over Fall Break, so Eric and I decided to keep it low key on Thursday night. As soon as the kids got home from school, I let them play outside after dinner for as long as they wanted, and then we went to Redbox where they picked out The Lorax, and I built a fort in their living room to snuggle up and watch the movie.
This is getting so sappy, I want to puke. Truthfully, yes I wanted my kids to have a fun night, but I also kinda wanted to watch tv myself, and keep them occupied with little effort. Mom confession? I suppose so.
However, my little boy and girl DID have a blast, and two bowls of popcorn, a bag of Skittles and M&M's they said it was the BEST fort ever. Do you they make badges for that?
and a WAY luckier momma.
my identity
I have a million things to say, but my own words are stuck, like in a bottle, just waiting for me to pull the cork. And I'm not sure when I'm going to be strong enough to do that, but it's not yet.
However, being COMPLETELY done with nursing school, passing the NCLEX and getting a job (all to be blogged about at a later date), I have actually had time to read real books. These words struck me:
"I get this feeling sometimes that after the world ends, when God destroys all our building and our flags, we will wish we had seen everybody as equal, that we had eating dinner with prostitutes, held them in our arms, opened up spare rooms for them and loved them and learned from them. I was just another stupid child in the flow, you know; I didn't know any of these things. I didn't know it didn't matter what a person looked like, how much money they made or whether or not they were cool. I didn't know that cool was just a myth and that one person was just as beautiful and meaningful as another. Not all of us are that smart, you know. Not all of us run around naked like Adam and Eve. You can hardly fault me for this stuff, can you? Like I said, it felt important to climb the social ladder, it felt important to defend my identity, as though it felt like I was saving my own life."
(Donald Miller)
I wish I could rewind fifteen years and say this to myself. I wish that the strict guilt-inducing education of my past may not have had such an impact on me, and my ability to form an identity. Maybe not. There's no way to know now. But I do know that I want to love the unlovable, to look past pain, sickness, death...
I am who I am. It's taken me (almost ) 32 years to get here...but this is me. Take it or leave it. I still have so much to work on, but I can no longer apologize for who I am. I can't do it.....I won't do it.
This is me.
However, being COMPLETELY done with nursing school, passing the NCLEX and getting a job (all to be blogged about at a later date), I have actually had time to read real books. These words struck me:
"I get this feeling sometimes that after the world ends, when God destroys all our building and our flags, we will wish we had seen everybody as equal, that we had eating dinner with prostitutes, held them in our arms, opened up spare rooms for them and loved them and learned from them. I was just another stupid child in the flow, you know; I didn't know any of these things. I didn't know it didn't matter what a person looked like, how much money they made or whether or not they were cool. I didn't know that cool was just a myth and that one person was just as beautiful and meaningful as another. Not all of us are that smart, you know. Not all of us run around naked like Adam and Eve. You can hardly fault me for this stuff, can you? Like I said, it felt important to climb the social ladder, it felt important to defend my identity, as though it felt like I was saving my own life."
(Donald Miller)
I wish I could rewind fifteen years and say this to myself. I wish that the strict guilt-inducing education of my past may not have had such an impact on me, and my ability to form an identity. Maybe not. There's no way to know now. But I do know that I want to love the unlovable, to look past pain, sickness, death...
I am who I am. It's taken me (almost ) 32 years to get here...but this is me. Take it or leave it. I still have so much to work on, but I can no longer apologize for who I am. I can't do it.....I won't do it.
This is me.
Monday, October 15, 2012
if you don't have anything nice to say...
Gossip is gossip is gossip is gossip.
Cloak it in whatever words you wish, but it's aim is never to build up, but only to tear down, and so often results in misunderstandings, shredded feelings, and I dare say hearts and relationships that may never recover from its lasting impact.
“It’s not technically gossip if you start your sentence with “I’m really concerned about
__________________ ,” (fill in the name of the person you’re not gossiping about).”
(Brian P. Cleary)
oh wait, yep...that's still gossip.
Cloak it in whatever words you wish, but it's aim is never to build up, but only to tear down, and so often results in misunderstandings, shredded feelings, and I dare say hearts and relationships that may never recover from its lasting impact.
“It’s not technically gossip if you start your sentence with “I’m really concerned about
__________________ ,” (fill in the name of the person you’re not gossiping about).”
(Brian P. Cleary)
oh wait, yep...that's still gossip.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
when my children are older...
1. They will know that I LOVE them wholeheartedly and unconditionally, no matter how much their opinions and or beliefs may differ from mine.
2. They will be respectful members of society with open minds, willing to test their beliefs.
3. They will say that they have been raised in a home of grace, and never condemnation.
the end.
2. They will be respectful members of society with open minds, willing to test their beliefs.
3. They will say that they have been raised in a home of grace, and never condemnation.
the end.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
(I might be back)
I only say "might" because well, I take the biggest test of my life on October 16th, and I'm super super super nervous. Passing the NCLEX means that the last 16 months has been worth every hellish minute, every bitter and desperate tear, every late night and early morning....you get it.
But...I'm finding myself highly distracted by life. I considered deactivating my FB account for about 5 seconds...totally changed my mind, and realized that I need an outlet to think, to reflect and to write.
While I find my voice again that's been buried under 15 layers of normal vital signs, pharmacology, question trainer tests, decision trees and more, I'll use someone else's words. I seem to be pretty good at that. Very often, they just say it better than I.
“Your problem is how you are going to spend this one and precious life
you have been issued. Whether you're going to spend it trying to look
good and creating the illusion that you have power over circumstances,
or whether you are going to taste it, enjoy it and find out the truth
about who you are.”
(Anne Lamott)
There's still so much I'm finding out about me.
But...I'm finding myself highly distracted by life. I considered deactivating my FB account for about 5 seconds...totally changed my mind, and realized that I need an outlet to think, to reflect and to write.
While I find my voice again that's been buried under 15 layers of normal vital signs, pharmacology, question trainer tests, decision trees and more, I'll use someone else's words. I seem to be pretty good at that. Very often, they just say it better than I.
(Anne Lamott)
There's still so much I'm finding out about me.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
a million words
I love this picture I caught of my little family. I love what we have become and the ways we are still growing and changing. I see Katie, my firstborn, and the daughter who taught me about miracles....so independent, growing so fast. I always thought it was so cliche to say "they grow in the blink of an eye" but it is so true! Granted, we've been through a lot in that blink of an eye, but I'm proud of my kids and the people they are becoming. Carter is growing into his personality and I love watching him grow. Having a son has brought me more joy than I could ever realize.
So, if "a picture speaks a thousand words," to me this one would speak a million. So much love. So much to be grateful for.
These people keep me grounded.
These people are the loves of my life.These people are the reason...for all of it.
I am the lucky one.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Thursday, February 9, 2012
"love will come set me free..."
this is raw...so skip if you'd like...
They (whoever "they" are) say that as you get older, it's supposed to get easier to be more independent as you organize your own lives, find your own niche in the world. It's never gotten one bit easier to be estranged from my father. In fact, getting older has only compounded the hurt. I didn't know how hard it would be to look in the eyes of my children, who have a dedicated, loving, compassionate father, and know that they have a grandpa, their own flesh and blood, they don't know at all. And I've received all kinds of advice, wavering from "just let go" to "be the bigger person." Well, I've tried both, and neither worked.
And then I remembered this passage from a book I re-read recently, and it made sense....a little. There will always be that spot, raw and bruised, hopeful and spiteful all at the same time...a wound that always feels like the scab is being ripped off. I'm still working on this. I am. Right now, that "working" means that I make myself so busy that I just simply can't think about it. It is a tidal wave of grief, loss, and bitterness that ebbs and flows with my intense feelings of guilt and what could I have done better?
We recently took the kids to the NFL Experience downtown, and I took these pictures for my dad...the ever loving Browns fan...thinking that maybe I would be brave enough to send them...maybe I would be brave enough to write since other forms of communication were thwarted. I probably won't.
I liked to think that they would make you laugh...your grandson laughing in his mom's arm and dreaming of being a football player someday. But, alas, these are things you don't know, don't want to know.
And I have to find a way to be myself, and be okay with that.
and this reminded me that I need to be constantly reminding myself of THIS:
"Love is infinitely more powerful than hate."
"That might be your opinion"
"No, that is a fact. You want to know how you really got here...really survived this far?"
I nodded.
"You survived by seizing every tiny drop of love you could find anywhere and milking it, relishing it, for all it was worth. Your parents weren't all hate or abuse. There were tender moments, whether or not you choose to remember them now. There were those moments, however brief, when you felt safe. You felt loved, and you savored every minute of it and held it closest to your heart. And as you grew up, you sought love wherever you could find it. For all these years, you've lived under the illusion that, somehow, you made it because you were tough enough to overpower the abuse, the hatred, the hard knocks of life. But really you made it, because love is so powerful that tiny little doses of it are enough to overcome the pain of the worst life can dish out. Toughness was a fault coping mechanism you devised to get by. But, in reality, it has been your ability to never give up, to keep seeking love, and your resourcefulness to make that love last long enough to sustain you. That's what has gotten you by."
(pp.157-158)
R. Reiland
Love.Love.Love.Love.Love.Love.
Keep giving it.
Keep receiving it.
Keep relishing it.
new mantra...
p.s. and also keep listening to brett dennan
They (whoever "they" are) say that as you get older, it's supposed to get easier to be more independent as you organize your own lives, find your own niche in the world. It's never gotten one bit easier to be estranged from my father. In fact, getting older has only compounded the hurt. I didn't know how hard it would be to look in the eyes of my children, who have a dedicated, loving, compassionate father, and know that they have a grandpa, their own flesh and blood, they don't know at all. And I've received all kinds of advice, wavering from "just let go" to "be the bigger person." Well, I've tried both, and neither worked.
And then I remembered this passage from a book I re-read recently, and it made sense....a little. There will always be that spot, raw and bruised, hopeful and spiteful all at the same time...a wound that always feels like the scab is being ripped off. I'm still working on this. I am. Right now, that "working" means that I make myself so busy that I just simply can't think about it. It is a tidal wave of grief, loss, and bitterness that ebbs and flows with my intense feelings of guilt and what could I have done better?
We recently took the kids to the NFL Experience downtown, and I took these pictures for my dad...the ever loving Browns fan...thinking that maybe I would be brave enough to send them...maybe I would be brave enough to write since other forms of communication were thwarted. I probably won't.
I liked to think that they would make you laugh...your grandson laughing in his mom's arm and dreaming of being a football player someday. But, alas, these are things you don't know, don't want to know.
and this reminded me that I need to be constantly reminding myself of THIS:
"Love is infinitely more powerful than hate."
"That might be your opinion"
"No, that is a fact. You want to know how you really got here...really survived this far?"
I nodded.
"You survived by seizing every tiny drop of love you could find anywhere and milking it, relishing it, for all it was worth. Your parents weren't all hate or abuse. There were tender moments, whether or not you choose to remember them now. There were those moments, however brief, when you felt safe. You felt loved, and you savored every minute of it and held it closest to your heart. And as you grew up, you sought love wherever you could find it. For all these years, you've lived under the illusion that, somehow, you made it because you were tough enough to overpower the abuse, the hatred, the hard knocks of life. But really you made it, because love is so powerful that tiny little doses of it are enough to overcome the pain of the worst life can dish out. Toughness was a fault coping mechanism you devised to get by. But, in reality, it has been your ability to never give up, to keep seeking love, and your resourcefulness to make that love last long enough to sustain you. That's what has gotten you by."
(pp.157-158)
R. Reiland
Love.Love.Love.Love.Love.Love.
Keep giving it.
Keep receiving it.
Keep relishing it.
new mantra...
p.s. and also keep listening to brett dennan
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
ephiphany
small as it may be.
every "job" as its really hard thing...my job has multiple really hard things, like really sick patients, dying, embolism stockings....and wiping people's butts.
for as long as I am a nurse (which is going to be a long time)...I'm never going to get over wiping poopy butts. i hate it. i loathe it. i gag trying my hardest not to show in my face what I am feeling.
but on the way home from the hospital tonight....I realized that today, yes, I wiped butts. two in fact. but i also wiped tears.
and that's why being a nurse will always be worth it...
every "job" as its really hard thing...my job has multiple really hard things, like really sick patients, dying, embolism stockings....and wiping people's butts.
for as long as I am a nurse (which is going to be a long time)...I'm never going to get over wiping poopy butts. i hate it. i loathe it. i gag trying my hardest not to show in my face what I am feeling.
but on the way home from the hospital tonight....I realized that today, yes, I wiped butts. two in fact. but i also wiped tears.
and that's why being a nurse will always be worth it...