Smart Cat

This may sound silly, especially to people who don't understand the point of animals, but I love my cat.  She really is part of the family.  I truly believe that God intended for people and animals to share their lives, and it's always interesting to me to talk to people who really don't like (or understand the need for) pets.  Yes, one day my pets will pass away.  Yes, my pets use the restroom and I have to clean it up.  Yes, I have to feed my pets every day.  But, what my pets have given me in return is often times more then most humans.  If you want to understand the definition of unconditional love, and by that I mean love that expects NOTHING in return, and love that will continue even if discourse occurs - love that regardless of what happens is deep and pure, then look no further then the devotion and care an animal gives its human.  It's as if God wanted us to get a small glimpse of what He feels for us.

I've had animals in my home my entire life.  The only time I haven't is when my husband and I were first living together and he had somehow been convinced he was allergic to all animals with hair.  When we adopted our first dog, Casey, it was neat to see how that affected my husband and the bond they shared.  And it was a heartbreaking day when we had to say goodbye to her.  Now I see my kids interacting with the four legged creatures in our home and it brings such joy.  So yeah, I love my cat (and my dogs and Amber's cat).  

A Tattoo

I heard some noises in the bathroom and went to investigate only to find my youngest standing in the sink putting a tattoo on her lower back.  It's a curious spot for an almost 5yr old to use.  The typical placement for young ones is usually on the top of the hand, or on the arm.  When I asked here where she learned to put a tattoo there she told me she saw it on a person she has a relationship with.  I had never noticed that this person had ink there, but she had.  It really made me think about what things kids notice...

TLC on TV

Can anyone tell me what part of this is ok? This is so disturbing.

Blurry Face

I'm going to admit to something that moms aren't supposed to admit to other moms, let alone themselves.  I don't fully remember my middle daughter as a baby.  I remember her as a child older then 18 months, and I remember bits and pieces before that, mainly moments surrounded by specific events, but on a whole, it's sorta one big blur.  I have valid reasons.  My grandfather passed away and my son is only 12 months older then her (and has special needs).  But the bigger issue is that I was suffering from Postpartum Depression.  Many of you may be wondering why I decided to share something that you feel shouldn't be discussed, that it is private family stuff.  Here is why.  PPD stole memories.  It kept me locked inside the shell of who I was, just going through the motions of the person I thought I was supposed to be.  It kept me from bonding to my child the way I wanted to.  It made me turn to alcohol when I went out with friends and was away from the kids.  It made me question my value as a person, as a wife, and as a mom.  It made me disappear.  And if sharing my own struggle helps another mom, then I don't care who knows.  Postpartum Depression is a real thing.  Most of the time it is triggered by the hormonal changes that occur after a baby has been delivered.  Sometimes it latches on to depression that was already there and takes a joy ride.  It is really important that if you think you may be depressed, that you seek out help.  And don't listen to any Dr that tells you your feelings just come with being a mom.

My PPD resolved around the time my middle daughter turned 18 months.  And thankfully, I have many years of good solid memories with her, and many more to come.  And for the times I have to work to remember, I treasure the photos.

For more information on Postpartum Depression, click here.

A Doorknob

I knew it would happen eventually, especially since one of youngest child's new obsessions is tricking people into her room then locking the door.  I was on the phone when I went in to save the cat.  In all fairness to my daughter, she was nowhere around when I originally entered.  She came in a few minutes after I did inquiring as to why I was even in her room.  The curiosity quickly turned to opportunity when she shut the door then sneakily looked at me and announced "I locked it.".  My husband and I had intended to make sure we hid a key in the room, as it wasn't the first time she had tried this.  Every other time she had been on the outside, or someone else had been home to rescue.  But not today.  Today it was just her and me.  I got excited when I realized I had a bobby pin in my hair.  That quickly turned to frustration though as I realized today's rendition are not made out of the hard metal of old.  It bent awkwardly under pressure.  I had no choice but to sit by an open window and wait for my older daughter to come home and rescue us.  Thankfully our garage door has a keypad and she was able to get inside to unlock the door.  Otherwise it would have been my youngest and I stuck in the room, and my older two children stuck outside.  Then we would have had to call the neighbor to get the spare key.   

As I was thinking about the whole situation I couldn't help but think about other times in my life where I feel like I am stuck in one place, and the door that I think should open doesn't.  Rather it's bolted quite firmly.  I wonder then if it means I am supposed to just give up and accept that I am stuck in that one place forever.  Should I call for help?  Or should I just surrender to the circumstances and let happen what will?  Here is what I think.  Sometimes we have to wait until we see someone who can help us, someone who has the key.  Other times we just have to wait until a passerby happens to realize the door is shut and opens it just at that point where we thought all was lost.  And sometimes, if we turn around, we will see that there is a window and that it might not be the best way to get where we are going, but that it is the only way.  The hard part in all of this is waiting.  We are so sure there are other, more important things we should be doing.  That surely our time is being wasted just sitting in one place.  When you feel that, take a step back and look around at all the stuff going on right where you are.  You might realize there is something, or someone, that needs to be taken care of first.

Shoes

They say you can’t understand what someone else is going though unless you’ve gone through it yourself.  The thing is, even those who have gone there, don’t always understand. 

Maya Angelou is quoted as saying “All God’s children need traveling shoes.”  If you had asked me years ago what that means I probably would have given you some ambiguous Christianese statement that gave the illusion of understanding.  Not now though.  Now I have a real understanding of what she meant.  If I am to go where I am needed, where God is calling me to be, then I need to be ready, even if I’m not particularly prepared.  I just have to have my shoes on.  And it’s ok that my shoes are old and tattered.  It just means I’ve been using them.

2010 was a growing year for me.  I learned what it meant to really rely on nothing other then Jesus.  I took a step back and let God do His work, and trusted in His timing.  I gained a new understanding for what friendship really means and that not every relationship has to look the same way.  I realized what it really means to be a parent, and accepted that sometimes it means letting go.  I fought battles – with myself, with others, and with satan.  Some of those battles I won, some I lost, and others I let die out.  I prayed like I have never prayed before, and then prayed again.  I never gave up on what was important but let pass what wasn’t worth it.  I tried new things.  Some of those things I failed at, and others I didn’t.  I cried, a lot.  I laughed even more.  I made time for me, even when others who should understand why I needed to, didn’t.  I accepted help, although more often declined it, but I always appreciated the offer.  I admitted I couldn’t do it all, and for once, determined it was ok to say no, and to excuse myself from that which I couldn’t continue.  I began to smash the old records in my head, and worked hard not to replace them with new ones.  I defeated the desire to go back to old ways of handling things when times were tough, and picked up new tools to keep myself going.  I walked, a lot.  And when I couldn’t walk anymore, I rested, and then I started again. 

I can’t say if I ended 2010 a better person, a better mother, a better wife, or a better friend.  But I tried.  And I’d like to think that if nothing else, I ended the year with a few holes in my shoes.     

A Broken Spatula

My spatula broke.  That's what happens when you drop it on the way to bringing a casserole to church and then someone drives over it.

In the Car

This is technically a picture from yesterday, so it counts for yesterday ;)  The original picture didn't have the fuzziness to it - I added it because when I looked at it I thought I looked like I could be dreaming of the fact that school starts back up soon. Heh.

Chicken Nuggets

This is when I start to miss shopping at the bulk food store. This bag of nuggets would not meet the needs of just one meal.

Cracking Eggs

A Christmas Tree

A Doctor's Office

 

Baby Head

Have you ever thought about how when a baby passes gas it's cute but when an adult does it, it's no longer cute?  There are lots of things kids can get away with that adults can't.  Sometimes it would be nice to just go back to being a kid.  I see my own kids growing up so fast, and while it's fun and exciting to see them learn new things and to watch them turn into such amazing people, I wish for their sake, that sometimes I could freeze time.  And some days I wish I could rewind time. 

Verses

God is cool.  I mean, really, really, really cool.  My aunt brought my youngest a Bible.  And tonight, after dealing with particularity difficult behaviors, I walked into my daughters room and found the Bible opened up to Psalm 86 through Psalm 89.  Psalm 86 had distinct 4yr old finger crinkles in them.  If you feel inclined, take a look at 86 and 88.  I read through all 4 of the chapters tonight with my mom, aunt and stepdad.  With 86 (at my Aunt's wise request) I substituted Alyssa's name for all of the "me" references.  And then I cried my way through 88, because I think it was meant for me to read.  So yeah... God is cool :)

Hand

There are a lot of misconceptions about me.  One in particular I really want to set straight.  I am thin.  I know this, my mom knows it, my husband knows it, my doctors know it, and for sure the Lord knows it.  Anyone who has sight knows it.  But being thin doesn't automatically equate to an eating disorder.  For the record, I eat.  I eat well.  And if you know me, you know how much I love food.  Here are two things I do not like: starving, and puking.

I've often wondered why it's ok for people to tell me I need to eat more, or explain to me just how thin I am.  Growing up I had complete strangers walk up to me and tell me if I came to their house they would fatten me right up.  What they were in fact saying was that they didn't think my mom was doing a good enough job.  Kids in middle school called me horrible names.  The comments and teasing I got about my weight growing up really messed with my self image.  And I carry much of it with me to this day.

Unfortunately because of a current medical issue, I have lost a significant amount of weight in the last few weeks.  So, I look skinnier then I usually do.  But don't fret, I am on it.

I guess my whole point in blogging about my weight is that I felt the need to try and quash some of the concerns, and just put it out there that what you say means something to others.  Don't assume that because someone isn't overweight that comments about their weight don't matter - because I promise you, they do.

How did what others say about you when you were young impact how you see yourself today?