tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115672672024-03-12T19:44:58.221-04:00One Scrappy Chick "I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be."
~ Douglas Adamsonescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.comBlogger1073125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-59990797881930238632016-02-07T18:40:00.000-05:002016-02-07T18:40:11.992-05:00Seven Things That Are Saving My Life This Winter Winter took a long time arriving to New England this year, unlike last year when we were buried under feet of snow by this time and winter showed no sign of letting up. We just received our first plowable snowfall this past week, and it looks the bitter cold is coming behind on its heels.<br />
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Generally, by this point in deep winter, I have fallen into what some might call "winter doldrums" or the "winter blues", but its more serious form is scientifically known as Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). I find it a tad bit ironic that the acronym is SAD, because that is exactly how I feel by the time we hit mid-winter; sad. By the time the end of February rolls around, I feel like I can barely push through my regular day-to-day activities. Housework is hard. Interactions with other people are hard. Some days, just the simple act of getting out of bed is hard. I don't feel like going out into the world, and just want to hole up in my house and do...well, some days, nothing. It's almost like a hibernation from life, and on some of my worst days, I have sat in a chair in my office staring out the window for hours. Activities that I enjoy such as knitting, reading, writing, and even getting together with friends and family feel like a monumental chore that involves far too much energy that I just do not have.<br />
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Yet every year, once the daylight returns and the days begin to get longer, the darkness creeps back, and I begin to feel like my normal self again. Usually by April I feel like a new person, and I can get back to the business of living again, because during that period of deep winter, it sometimes feels like a slow death.<br />
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This year, however, I am in a far better place than I have ever been before. I don't know if it's because we have had such mild weather up until now, or because of some of the steps I have taken, or a combination of both. Either way, it's deep winter and I'm still my same old self, and I'm going to keep on this path and see what happens. Here's what I'm trying this year: (there are NO affiliate links in this post)<br />
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1. <a href="https://www.atgstores.com/desk-lamps/verilux-vt05ww1-happylight-6000_10407361.html?gclid=Cj0KEQiA89u1BRDz8enExq7rvN0BEiQAaFCHmytyXK4glirMBr-CvJQ848uikxi7_MpClfjp7eo4DjkaAjOq8P8HAQ&af=2615&ef_id=Vj5:20160207232326:s">A Happy Light</a> by Verliux. My therapist recommend this to me back in the fall, and almost every day since November I have spent two hours in front of this light each morning. The directions that come with the lamp call for a minimum of 30-60 minutes, but my therapist said two hours, so that is what I have been doing. Fortunately, my job is at a desk, and so I turn it on 15 minutes after I arrive and do all the essential "non-desk" things I need to get done right away, and then I just do my regular work. It has a half-power setting for people who need to use it later in the day, but it can mess with your sleep cycle also, and my sleep is messed up enough, so I just stick to the morning.<br />
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2. <a href="http://www.vitacost.com/megafood-vitamin-d-3-1000-iu-90-tablets">Vitamin D3, 1000 IU's</a>. I started this last year, after both my primary care physician and ob-gyn recommended it, and then my therapist also brought it up, so 3/3 doctors can't be wrong. Plus, I am dairy intolerant, so the added vitamin D is an important dietary supplement. I get D in my multi-vitamin, which is why I don't go for the 2000 IU's. Too much D is bad for you. I take Mega Food's supplements, because they are made of whole food products, are allergen free, and contain no artificial anything or fillers. Win-win.<br />
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3. <a href="http://www.vitacost.com/spectrum-essentials-fish-oil-omega-3?csrc=PPCADW-%5Bkeyword%5D&mtp=s8TmJsKp2-dc%7Cpcrid%7C95700665531%7Cmt%7Cb&gclid=Cj0KEQiA89u1BRDz8enExq7rvN0BEiQAaFCHm2z4RuiuCEk0DcN2AnVneYnL_2e6AJRR5R5CcNnCdDMaAsmy8P8HAQ">Omega 3 Fish Oil</a>. I wasn't sure how I felt about this, especially since my gall bladder is failing and I've had to go meat free in order to keep it from flaring up. However, other oils don't cause it any issue, and as it turns out, taking 1 Fish oil capsule in addition to my daily vitamins does not cause any issues. I had to make sure my capsules were allergen friendly, so I went with Spectrum Essentials.<br />
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4. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Miracle-Morning-Not-So-Obvious-Guaranteed-Transform/dp/0979019710/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1454887518&sr=8-1&keywords=the+miracle+morning">The Miracle Morning</a>. Hal Elrod wrote a book about starting your day off on the right foot. 6 steps that you can do, each morning, that set the tone for the rest of your day. You can do them in as little as 6 minutes, or spend as long as an hour or more. I generally spend between 30-40 minutes each day on this practice, and it is changing my whole outlook. I do my Bible study, spend time reading personal development books, and even have time to journal and plan my day.<br />
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5. Daily Walks. Back in December I fell (OK, I was knocked over by my puppy) and broke my wrist. In the healing process, it turns out I also have some tendon damage). Due to this, I haven't had much use of my left arm/wrist for almost ten weeks now. Exercise of any kind has been essentially non-existent, but with the lack of snow and ice, what I have been able to do, is walk. Well, except when it rains and freezes, because I also have not been able to risk falling. It's amazing what a brief ten minute walk around your neighborhood can do for your mood, especially if the sun is shining.<br />
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6. <a href="http://bulletjournal.com/">My Bullet Journal</a>. I could write a whole blog post about this, and I might yet, but if you haven't heard about this yet, then check out that link. It's no secret that I am a very organized-down-to-the-last-minute kind of person. Being able to keep track of "all the things" as my kids would say, in one central location has been amazing. Of course, being the creative type, I have modified mine to suit my own needs, and doodle and other things to get my creative needs met while I'm busy with college and work. That's the great thing about the system. You can use it however you want, and all you need is a pen and a notebook.<br />
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7. My puppy. I have heard about therapy dogs, and how spending time with pets can increase your mood, and all of that, but I never really paid much attention to it. Maybe because I never really had a pet who loved on me as much as my puppy. Our first dog was defiantly my husband's dog, and she only loved on him as much as she could, due to the circumstances that she came to us from. Our Willow, however, is a love bug. She loves on everyone, and is happy to snuggle in your lap and kiss your face until whatever it is that is bothering you has become a distance memory. I am convinced that she is a big part of why I am sill smiling, here, in the depths of this winter.onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-42387555414333157952015-11-25T19:54:00.000-05:002015-11-25T19:54:21.465-05:00When You Open Your Heart Again <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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I wasn't prepared to love another puppy, especially not so soon.<br />
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I wasn't prepared to have Amelia, in all honesty, when we welcomed her home at the end of March. We had lost our first dog to a sudden illness, after twelve years, in October of 2013 and I thought we were done with dogs. We disposed of everything except her crate and metal dishes and I was fairly certain we were now cat people.<br />
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I wasn't prepared for how losing Amelia would break my heart, and I didn't want to go through that heartache ever again. Standing in the kitchen the day we put her down, surrounded by all of her things, many which were still in "near new" condition, was overwhelming. So, I did the only thing I could think to at the time and I packed them away. Out of sight, out of mind. I knew that my husband wanted to consider another puppy later on down the road, but I thought maybe the idea would pass.<br />
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I wasn't prepared to find myself looking at photos of puppies online just a few weeks later. The kids asked about another puppy and if we had plans to "try again". Conversations turned to what kind of breeders were in our area, and eventually curiosity got the best of me and very tenderly I looked on the Internet. Just to see. I still wasn't sure if my heart was ready to love another puppy, or if it ever would be.<br />
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I wasn't prepared to come home from Vermont after visiting my daughter during Family Weekend, to a message from a breeder we were in conversations with about potentially adopting a puppy later on down the road, and find out he had what he claimed to be, "the perfect puppy for us." Someone had backed out of their agreement to take a "sweet little girl" who was going to be 8 weeks old on Monday, and were we interested? Monday marked two weeks since we had put Amelia down, and that seemed a little ominous. We talked about it for the rest of the night, and all morning Sunday before agreeing to drive up and meet her. We'd see how our meeting went, and then make our decision on Monday. I didn't know if I was ready.<br />
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I wasn't prepared to have a puppy be placed in my arms that afternoon, and within 10 minutes begin licking my face like I was her long-lost best friend. I'm fairly sure that a few tears fell into her fur as we stood there, the two of us. She continued to lick, and I marveled at how sweet and gentle she was, as I reminded myself not to cringe when her face came near my own.<br />
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I wasn't prepared to leave there with her that afternoon, truthfully, and begin the long ride home from northern Vermont with her fluffy little body snuggled safe in my arms. She alternated between sleeping, and watching out the window and licking my face. We began a bond that I hope continues as she grows bigger and older.<br />
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I wasn't prepared to love another puppy so soon, especially as my heart was still broken and tender. There have been plenty of moments that have made me cry over the past 8 weeks, like when she lies in that exact spot next to the chair asleep, or the first time I heard my husband call her by the wrong name. She is a vivacious kisser, and I have to constantly remind myself that she's gentle and friendly, and not vicious and out to bite me with her mouth.<br />
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I wasn't prepared for how different it would be to have a puppy that isn't constantly demanding behavior modification every waking minute of the day. We play and snuggle, and she makes us laugh with her antics, and boy does she have a lot of antics.<br />
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I wasn't prepared to be the "favorite person" again, and yet somehow I have been placed into that role. Maybe she sensed that my heart was broken and decided that I needed extra love and attention. She might have been right, as I often tell people she has been the balm that is healing my broken heart.<br />
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I wasn't prepared to love another puppy so soon, but this little sweetheart has won my heart.onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-57027582068047778022015-09-16T20:12:00.000-04:002015-09-16T20:14:50.777-04:00When Your Heart is Broken <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Nothing can prepare you for the overwhelming heartache that envelopes you the first time you walk into your house after having put your dog down before her time. You can't be prepared for that moment when you look around and see it all: the empty crate, the empty bed, the basket of toys, the dog bowls still on the floor. </span><br />
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No one tells you how you will stand there, sobbing, unable to catch your breath, and your heart will break more than it already has. No one tells you about the guilt that will come with those waves of tears, and how you will instantly begin to second guess your decision, despite knowing in your logical brain that you made the right choice for everyone, including your dog. </div>
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Nothing can prepare you for the insensitive people who judge your decision, and make heartless and cruel statements about you to others on the most painful days of your life. No one can know the path we had to walk to get to this point, or the heartbreak that it took to make such a difficult decision, but they can judge our actions in less than a minute. </div>
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No one can help you to clean up the house, or pack away the dishes and toys, because that is a task you have to do on your own. No one tells you that for days afterward you will continue to find things in places that you forgot about: YoPups tucked into the freezer, hiking bowls stashed in the closet, training meat in bags in the fridge. No one tells you that each time the grief will hit you like a freight train all over again, and you will start to think that you might never stop crying. </div>
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Nothing would have made me happier than to be able to keep my dog. Putting her down was one of the most painful, heartbreaking decisions that I have ever had to make in my life. My logical brain knows that we did the right thing, which was confirmed after a long consult with our trainer and our vet, but my broken heart feels like we failed her in some way, and wishes she was still here. </div>
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Nothing we did led us here, and I know that, in my logical brain. My broken heart questions all. I wonder what we could have done better. How we could have helped her more. Why we couldn't have saved her. What we failed at that sent her spiraling backward when there seemed to be hope for such a short time. My broken heart holds on to that hope we had, all those months ago when we thought she could be fixed. </div>
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No one saw this photo, taken on April 23rd, when she was just 12 and a half weeks old. She was enrolled at Puppy Kindergarten at the MHS at the time, and we hadn't started our work with a private trainer yet. She was 3 months old, and had been with us for only a month. She had issues with biting, poor impulse control, lack of self-control, low tolerance for frustration, anxiety, issues with being handled (pet, touched, hooked to a leash), and she was fearful and shy around other puppies. That look on her face, as she bit and tugged at that leash, became known to us as "danger". </div>
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No one saw this look on her face when she was a 60 pound adolescent dog, pulling at the end of her leash on a walk, because she was suddenly frustrated about : not getting to meet another dog, go the way she wanted, fill in who knows what here. In addition to the biting and tugging, she would also jump up and bite at the leash, right near my hand, and pull and fight, until something else distracted her, whenever that was. It was a scary time, and our walks were no longer enjoyable. </div>
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No one saw her spiral downward, unable to be at rest, unable to deal with the smallest bit of frustration, unable to keep her teeth off of everyone, and eventually turning on me, the person she loved most in the world. No one saw her fight the vet in her last minutes, fully sedated, a fighter to the end. </div>
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No one will ever know how worried we were when we first got her, and she couldn't keep her teeth to herself. No one will ever know how hard we fought for her, wanting to raise her up to the potential that we saw in her. No one will ever know how much we loved her, and how much joy she brought into our lives. No one will ever know how much we miss her, and how broken our hearts are without her here. </div>
onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-88264711053136008832015-04-19T07:08:00.001-04:002015-04-20T06:12:25.151-04:00Fallow Does Not Mean Failure .. In the agricultural world, farmers often will leave a field fallow, or plowed and unsown for a season, so that it can rejuvenate and become fertile once again to be planted with a different variety of crops. Bystanders, unfamiliar with this practice, often view these fields as failures as they pass them, assuming that whatever the farmer planted in them during the course of that year failed to thrive and grow. Fallow doesn't mean failure, however. It is a time to rest and renew, and to cultivate something different to ensure the success of the farmer and his fields.<br />
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This last season of my life has been particularly challenging and I have been struggling to thrive. I made a commitment to myself last year that I would set out each day with a positive attitude, looking for the positive things and not focusing on the negative. "Find the joy" became my motto, and it was something I really challenged myself to do each day. That school year struggled along, and then I was moved to yet another new school, and like a newly sprouted plant, I fought to reach toward the sun each day. The weeds of despair, unhappiness, and stress began to grow large around me, blocking the life giving rays of the sun, and each day that went by just complicated the situation more.<br />
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Instead of being able to say, "I have survived xx amount of days, there are only xx amount of days left", I was barely keeping it together enough to get through each individual day. I cried on the way to work. I cried on the way home. I tried to come home and do my college work, and for the first half hour I was home, I would sit in my desk chair and just stare out the window. I was paralyzed by the heaviness of it all, and was barely keeping my head above water.<br />
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To complicate matters further, I started coughing around Thanksgiving, and developed a tightness in my chest when I was outside for recess duty or in the cold. It ended up being pneumonia, which didn't clear up for the rest of the winter. In early February I got sick, and then during February vacation, I got sick again, but much more severely this time.<br />
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Still fighting lingering pneumonia, never ending exhaustion, and on the brink of an emotional breakdown, I quit my job on the Sunday night at the end of February vacation. I was at such a low point that I could not figure out how I was going to manage to get out of bed and go to work the next day, forget the 3.5 months that were still left ahead of us. It was reckless and a little crazy, and more than anything it was desperate. My closest friends said it was brave. Almost two months later, I still can't believe that I did it.<br />
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It was single handedly the hardest decision I ever had to make for myself. I loved my job when I first started. I loved working with children, and helping the ones who needed that extra support be able to thrive in the classroom. I didn't love where my job had ended up these past few years, with the focus on passing the test, and geared more towards behavior management. I don't miss that part of it one bit. One of the little boys I worked with this year sent me a card the week after I left that said how much he liked working with me, and that he loved me, and it about broke my heart. It is nice to know that I have made a difference in the lives of kids over the last 11.5 years, but it was coming at too high of a cost.<br />
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So, I am taking a break from education. I found a fabulous job working in a church office in the next town over. I might stay there just until I am finished with my college work, or I might stay there until we decide what the next phase of our life looks like. I don't know yet. I know that it's calm, stress-free (compared to school), and I am happy there. I know that I will get back to teaching, because I want to teach at the secondary level, but right now, I need to rest and renew, much like the fields.<br />
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I don't consider myself a failure for quitting, even if it was 3/4 of the way through the school year. It was an act of self-prervation, and perhaps the first thing I've done solely for myself in a long, long time. I am looking forward to recharging and finding myself again. I know that in time I will emerge stronger, healthier, and replenished, much like the crops that come out of the once fallow field.<br />
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<br />onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-57130890902493905402015-01-18T14:59:00.002-05:002015-01-19T10:30:34.262-05:00A Birthday Letter to My Son as He Turns Twenty <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It has been three weeks now since your twentieth birthday, and I'm finally sitting down to write your birthday blog post. For an entire year I have been mentally preparing myself for the idea of you being twenty, and I think the idea of it still hasn't quite sunk in yet. This past year was the year I turned forty, and everyone asked how I felt about it. "Forty," I would reply, "is no big deal. Let's discuss the fact that Corey is going to be twenty this year."<br />
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You see, this year, when I turned forty and you turned twenty, is remarkable for several reasons. The first is that you are now as old as I was the year that I gave birth to you. I think about that year, and where I was in my life, and I look at you, and where you are in your life, and I am so proud of you. By twenty, we both had overcome huge hurdles, and unthinkable adversities, and while I felt like I was still struggling to get out from under the weight of mine at twenty, I look at you and feel that you have risen above yours. Life is not always easy, and your path may continue to twist and turn, and there may be mountains for you to climb still, but you should feel encouraged knowing that you have the strength to overcome those challenges. You have done it before, and you will be able to do it again. If you ever doubt yourself, all you have to do is reach out, and I will be your biggest cheerleader. I'll even get the stupid pop-poms, if that is what it takes.<br />
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This year, you have been alive for half of my life. Moving forward, you will have been a part of my life for more than half of it, and that is so mind-blowing to me. The part of my life that was before you, will be smaller than the part of my life with you, and eventually, it will be of little significance. For almost half of my life, you have been here, at home, and now you are moving into a period of your life when you are making preparations to move on with your life. I am excited for you, and sad for me at the same time. Your life is just beginning, and you have great potential and are going to do amazing things, I just know it. I cannot wait to hear about the places that you go, and the projects that you work on, and the things that you are part of, that mostly I will not understand. Never forget that you will always have a place here as well. Never forget that even if things don't work out, and the project fails, or the job falls through, I am still proud of you. Never forget that I love you with all of my heart. Happy birthday.onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-62590585594456033242014-11-02T04:50:00.000-05:002014-11-02T04:50:20.906-05:00My Life is a Series of PilesBehind me on the counter in my office where the printers live, is a stack of magazines that I have yet to find the time to read. Many of them are October and November issues, but only because sometime last weekend when I was not feeling that great, I sat down and read through a handful of them. I can testify to the fact that there were at least three, if not four, issues from the summer still hanging around.<br />
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In the kitchen, at the end of the counter in front of my Cuisinart food processor, is a stack of mail belonging to my daughter. Most of it has been opened, and all of it is college related. The fliers, postcards, and packets arrive on a daily basis now, offering her waived enrollment fees and campus tours. I add the new pieces into the pile and wonder how she does not become overwhelmed with all of the choices being presented to her. She tells me that she gets dozens of emails a day, sometimes multiple emails from the same school, trying to convince her that she wants to attend these institutes of higher learning.<br />
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Next to me, on the table that has served as my desk for all of these years, is a pile of papers that I keep meaning to deal with. A guide to updating my resume, so that I can begin searching for a new job. A letter from the credit union that holds my mortgage payments, offering to refinance my car loan, and the last statement from the bank that holds my car loan, so that I can see if it is worth my effort. Somewhere in that pile is to-do list of snacks to make when I get a chance, and what I plan on eating this week for lunch and dinner.<br />
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My yard is littered with piles of leaves, needing be raked up before the first snow falls. The wind has blown them into piles against the house, the fence, and the hedges. My neighbor hired a young kid to come and tend to his leaves, and he showed up one drizzly day last week with a leaf blower, and began blowing leaves into piles...in my yard. I would like to say that this was a huge help and I am grateful for the head start, except that in his youthful eagerness to be finished with what appeared to be an overwhelming job, he basically just made a mess of leaves everywhere he went. It's a start, however, which is more than we had before.<br />
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In a basket next to the TV stand, not too far from my favorite chair, is a pile of unfinished knitting projects in clear storage bags to protect them from the sharp claws of my cats. I thought if I took the projects that I was in the middle of, and put them out by my chair, I would be inspired to work on them when I sat down to watch TV in the evening, or when I had a free afternoon to watch a movie with The Boy. The problem with that plan, is the lack of time to watch TV in the evening, or a free afternoon. Life has been hectic these past few months with the fall marching season and the start of school.<br />
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There are piles of belongings left behind in Corey's room that need sorting through, and organizing when he comes home over Thanksgiving break. The fall cleaning got off to a great start back in August, and then quickly stalled. The calendar reads November now, which puts a pressing urgency into my mind, knowing that soon the calendar will be flipping over again, and Christmas will be upon us. I feel like if I could just get my life in order, everything else will feel a little bit more settled. I think I will start with some of these piles.onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-25856691665831562742014-10-23T22:15:00.000-04:002014-10-28T18:24:08.794-04:00The Light Shines Through the Darkness and the Darkness Does Not Overcome It <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I love fall. I love the smell of wood smoke in the air, and the way the light changes in September from a warm, summer color, to a cooler, fall color. I love the crisp, cool mornings, that turn into warmer, summer-like afternoons. I love crunching through the newly fallen leaves, and raking them into big piles of red, orange and yellow. I love tall boots, warm sweaters, and cozy blankets.<br />
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Despite all of these things, each year I dread the arrival of fall. As the sun begins to set earlier each evening and the morning light begins to change to a glowing orange color that arrives later each day, I am forced to face the harsh truth that soon the days will be long, and the amount of daylight we have will be short. You see, I suffer from seasonal depression, and in the quiet places of my heart, fall signals the return of the season of darkness. I know that once the leaves have all fallen and the calendar turns to November, I am going to begin an uphill struggle for my emotional, mental, and even physical well-being.<br />
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I have referred to the hardest times in my marriage as a "season of darkness", and it is for many of the same reasons that I refer to winter as the season of darkness. When I fall into a seasonal depression, everything becomes dull and meaningless. It is hard to find the joy in everyday things that normally bring happiness, and even the easiest tasks become a struggle. In the darkest days of my marriage it was hard to find the joy in the every day tasks of living, and it felt similar to being in the middle of a depression. I don't believe that it's any coincidence that our problems often feel large and overwhelming in the middle of the night, when the darkness is large and overpowering. I find that it often helps to get up and turn on all the lights. Once the darkness ebbs, or morning comes, those problems that seemed so huge and larger than life in the middle of the night, often become more manageable. It is the same with seasonal depression. Once spring comes, and the light returns, my mood beings to improve, life beings to look up again, and everything falls back into what I like to consider "normal". In Genesis chapter 1, it says, "God said, "Let there be light, " and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. The light shines, and all is right again.<br />
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Last winter, I began taking Vitamin D supplements, and found that they really improved my mood drastically. I also infused my house with more light. Extra lamps spread throughout the rooms I frequent the most helped, as did an influx of candles.<br />
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This fall, just in time for the holidays, <a href="http://www.dayspring.com/">DaySpring </a>is launching their new Everlasting Light collection, which includes these <a href="http://www.dayspring.com/themed_collections/everlasting_light/everlasting_light_home_decor/everlasting_light_wooden_candlestick_holders_set_of_3/">beautiful new candlesticks</a>. Perched on a mantle, or gathered in the center of a table, they are the perfect solution to holding back the darkness of the shorter days of fall and winter. They would also make a wonderful gift, and come in the set of three, shown in this photo.<br />
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They are made of mango wood, and range in size from ten and a quarter inches to fourteen inches high. They are handcrafted in India, and the candles are not included.<br />
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If you are looking to make your space feel a little bit bigger and brighter, this <a href="http://www.dayspring.com/themed_collections/everlasting_light/everlasting_light_home_decor/everlasting_light_starburst_mirror/default.aspx">gorgeous sunburst mirror</a> might be just the thing you are looking for. Hung on a wall, set on a mantle, or even perched on a shelf as part of a small grouping, it is sure to add a bit of sparkle to your day.<br />
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It is also made of mango wood, and has a sawtooth hook for hanging. It is twenty-four and a half inches in diameter, and is just the sweetest thing ever.<br />
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I can envision it hanging in a college dorm room, with white twinkle lights surrounding it. How cute would it be in a nursery with a celestial theme? It would be perfect on the wall of a guest bedroom or even a small bathroom. There are so many decorating possibilities to choose from. The neutral color of the mango wood will match just about any decor. Right across the bottom it is etched with the verse, "You will shine.. like stars in the sky" Phil. 2:15.<br />
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In addition to home decor pieces, DaySpring also has several pieces of beautifully crafted inspirational jewelry pieces in their Everlasting Light collection, in both silver and gold tones. I was particularly drawn to <a href="http://www.dayspring.com/in_courage/everlasting_light/everlasting_light_shine_bracelet/">this pewter bracelet </a>that reads "Shine Your Light". It is made of nickel-free, lead-free pewter and is adjustable from six inches to seven and a half inches.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The back is engraved with "Phillipians 2:15".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The verse is the same as the one etched on the mirror, "You will shine...like stars in the sky".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There is an enclosed card that reads, " Each piece in this collection captures the awe and wonder of the heavens and reflects the creative of our Creator God. Look to the starts and remember- God has separated the light from the darkness. His light is in you too- so shine on! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Whatever season you find yourself in right now, there is sure to be something beautiful and encouraging in the new Everlasting Light collection from DaySpring. The darkness is coming, but the light shines through the darkness, and the darkness does not overcome it. John 1:5. </span><br />
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.blogger.com%2Fblogger.g%3FblogID%3D11567267%23editor%2Fsrc%3Dsidebar&media=https%3A%2F%2Fimages-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com%2Fgadgets%2Fproxy%3Furl%3Dhttp%253A%252F%252F2.bp.blogspot.com%252F-25722P8cxAI%252FVEmzftmPDfI%252FAAAAAAAADOg%252FR9CsvecRD1Q%252Fs1600%252Fincourage_EverlastingLight_img14.jpg%26container%3Dblogger%26gadget%3Da%26rewriteMime%3Dimage%252F*&xm=h&xv=sa1.35&description=" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 1602px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.blogger.com%2Fblogger.g%3FblogID%3D11567267%23editor%2Fsrc%3Dsidebar&media=https%3A%2F%2Fimages-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com%2Fgadgets%2Fproxy%3Furl%3Dhttp%253A%252F%252F2.bp.blogspot.com%252F-25722P8cxAI%252FVEmzftmPDfI%252FAAAAAAAADOg%252FR9CsvecRD1Q%252Fs1600%252Fincourage_EverlastingLight_img14.jpg%26container%3Dblogger%26gadget%3Da%26rewriteMime%3Dimage%252F*&xm=h&xv=sa1.35&description=" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 1602px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-36495561303080971772014-10-04T16:22:00.001-04:002015-04-19T06:34:58.904-04:00When Your Teenager Refuses to Be HelpedMy daughter is a cutter. I have known this for at least a few years now, and there is nothing I can do to help her. She blames me for the fact that she cuts herself, and that simple fact breaks my mothers heart. She started cutting to deal with the pain of her father and I not having a very positive relationship for so many years. She claims she didn't know how else to deal with it, and so she took to cutting. Something her brother had done in the darkest depths of his depression, when he needed to know that he could still feel something. A mimicking act, maybe, but that is neither here nor there. I noticed right away, as her body part of choice was not hidden and called her out on it. She vehemently denied it, and then told me what was up, and that she was going to stop.<br />
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My daughter is a habitual liar. She has been lying to me since she was old enough to string sentences together. She will lie to get out of trouble, to save face in front of her friends, and to hide things she would rather you did not know. She will continue to lie even when you have called her out on it, convinced that she will somehow get away with in the end. There are very few things my daughter has successfully lied to me about.<br />
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What my daughter doesn't realize, because she is too wrapped up in her own self-absorbed world, is even on the days that my husband and I continue to not get along, we are making progress. We stumble, because we have a break down of communication and someones needs are not getting met. But we work through it, better than we ever have in the past, and we move forward, having learned from each experience. All she hears is the disagreements and decides that her world is falling apart.<br />
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My daughter cannot have a healthy relationship with any boy, because she was in a bad relationship with someone that ended because he tried to go too far against her wishes and she has not dealt with it in a health manner yet, and it haunts her.<br />
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She suffers from poor self-image issues that started right around the time she was diagnosed with food allergies. I have spent her whole life telling her how beautiful she is, but she looks in the mirror and sees someone who she feels is fat and ugly. It breaks my heart. As someone who has suffered from crappy self-image issues for 30 years myself, from being abused as a child, I don't know how to help her. Just when I was finally starting to feel good about myself, my health went to crap and my body failed me. I have wasted away to nothing and my hair is falling out, and how can I tell her that it's so important to feel beautiful, when I don't feel that way myself?<br />
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She has written suicide notes, whether because she felt she was at the end of her rope, because she wanted to see how it felt to actually do so, or for dramatic effect. That she would do so, knowing that her brother attempted to take his own life, feels like a slap across my face and the biggest "fuck you mom" that I can imagine, pardon my crass language.<br />
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In the end, you can choose to either accept the help you are offered, or continue down your own self-destructive path. Over the winter, I called a local therapist, on the recommendation of a good friend who suggested another therapist who was full, and gave me this one instead. Highly recommended. They hit it off right away. She went for several months, and worked on everything except her deepest, darkest issues. The things that were most broken in her life and needed the most fixing. As a mother, who is watching her daughter self-destruct before her eyes, having tried to help her, I don't know what more to do.<br />
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I wish I had a positive roll model to give her. An adult that she trusted, or a couple she could look up to. Someone that she could talk to, who was not me, because clearly we don't have that relationship anymore. She lies to protect me from the things that I already know, and I cannot tell her I know them because I would violate that fragile bit of trust we have left. Raising teenagers has to be the most heart-breaking, difficult job in the world.onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-86328270943970369252014-08-23T10:11:00.000-04:002014-08-23T10:11:24.471-04:00My Best Yes is Saying No, OftenWe moved at the end of my third grade year, and I left a private Catholic school, where I was thriving, and doing very well, and entered into public school at the start of fourth grade. I left behind my friends, and started school as "the new girl", in a town that was rooted in old, established families and status. On top of being new, I came from "the city". A poor city at that, over the state border, and one with a bad reputation. I left a daily routine of wearing uniforms and attending mass on Fridays, and began having to choose what to wear each day, and pausing for a moment of silence after the Pledge of Allegiance. <div>
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I struggled to make friends. I did not fit in to any of the already established "cliques", and I am an introvert by nature. Until a few years ago, I didn't even know what an introvert was. I took a personality quiz for school, and discovered I was an <a href="http://www.16personalities.com/isfj-personality">ISFJ</a>; the nurturer. My son, a classic introvert, has known this about himself for many years. I am only starting to discover my true self over the last several years. A lonely, outcast girl, who was battling demons at home, I turned to books to escape. </div>
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At school, I was what we would label an "average" student. The problem with labels is that they begin to define what we think of ourselves, and eventually we become the person that we have been labeled as. I struggled in math. I had a hard time with spelling. I didn't get any support at home, and I did the best that I could on my own. I never heard the words, "I am proud of you" come from my parents the entire time that I was growing up. When I graduated from high school, I had no faith that I would be accepted into college, or that I would receive any kind of financial aid to be able to afford to go. I did not understand how student loans worked, and I had no guidance to support me in making this all important decision. </div>
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Fast-forward twenty-one years, and last fall I found myself enrolled at SNHU. Starting college, while working full time pushed me right out of my comfort zone. In the wake of the end stages of my friend's journey with cancer and the way she lived life to the fullest, especially during her last year, gave me the motivation I needed to pursue this dream I have harbored in the quiet of my heart for so many years. </div>
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It has not been an easy road. Finding the balance between working, taking two classes every eight weeks, and caring for my house has not been easy. Sometimes I feel like I have it all under control and others it all seems to fall apart. On top of that, I am still working hard at rebuilding my relationship into something better than it has ever been. My priorities right now, are my marriage, my family, and school work. After that comes my job, and my house. Everything else is falling to the wayside. </div>
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Being a type-A first born, with OCPD tendencies, this has not been an easy adjustment. To walk through my house and see rugs that haven't been vacuumed in a week, or dust that has been accumulating on flat surfaces for two weeks or longer gives me an enormous twitch. When I realize that I have spent an entire day working, then doing school work, and it's time for bed and I haven't spend any quality time with my husband, is especially challenging. When we start to have many of those days in a row, I find that my mood starts to deteriorate. My love language is quality time, and even though I'm the reason my needs are not being met, I have to stop and make time for us to spend together, so that I can keep going with the important work that needs to be done. </div>
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Right now, I need to focus on me, and my school work, which seems selfish, but it is where I have been called to be at this point in my life. In order to do this, I have to say no to meetings, and social commitments. I have to say no to going for walks with friends after work as much as I want to catch up and visit. I have to say no to movies with my family that start late, and keep me from being able to get up early to get my school work done before leaving for work. I have to say no, so that I can say yes to this calling that I have taken on, because that is where I am right now.</div>
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It is not where I will be forever. This season will pass, and I will be able to say yes again, to those things that I cannot find time for right now. Right now, however, <a href="http://thebestyes.com/">my best yes</a> is an answer to being asked to step outside of my comfort zone, and pursue my dreams, even though I was scared. I said yes, and intend to be more than just an "average" student. I am giving college my best, even if in order to do so, I have to keep saying no. </div>
onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-8216618929975843952014-08-09T12:12:00.003-04:002014-08-09T12:12:54.733-04:00On Being Kept by a ChickenFor five days this summer I was kept by a chicken. She showed up in the early morning hours of a late Saturday in June.<br />
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I was delivering K-2 school supplies that I have been storing for several years now to my neighbor across the way who is going to be teaching Kindergarten next year. The amount of centers and games I have made over the years, flashcards and worksheets, and themed units I have put together was intense to see all accumulated together. Packing it up and giving it away was admitting to myself that I will not be teaching elementary school, and letting go of that dream. It was realizing that the mandated testing they are imposing on our kids has sucked the fun out of learning and teaching, and that is not the direction I want to take my career, or my life. Giving it to my friend, to give her a start on her first year of Kindergarten, when she has only taught first grade and Title 1, was awesome. I know that my crazy OCD organization and all that time and work I put into those monthly files, and the centers that I used with her son, actually, when he was in first grade, will be a huge help and blessing for her.<br />
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I was overdressed for the day, in fleece pants and a hoody, and had my sherpa slippers from LLBean on. I had lugged about six or seven large totes across the street (she lives diagonally across, so it's a bit of a walk), and had one last tote to go. I saved the heaviest bag for last. The one with all the early learning worksheets in it, organized by month, from McMillan. Three kits worth, and it was going to take every last bit of energy that I did not have that day to lug that thing over to her house. I walked into my kitchen, got a glass of water, and sat on a stool at the counter to regroup first. While I was sitting there drinking my water, The Boy rushed through the porch door, into the kitchen and dropped the mail onto the counter. "Do you see what's going on in the back yard?" he asked, breathlessly. I might have gave him a little 'tude as I explained what I had been doing, when a simple no would have sufficed. He told me to go look. I asked if it could wait until I had lugged the last tote across the street, and he said no. I knew he meant business, so I walked across the house and looked out the windows. Nothing. More than annoyed, I asked what the heck I was supposed to be seeing, and he led me out the back door into the yard.<br />
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Nothing could have prepared me for the fact that over by the tree line, between our yard and the Town Hall driveway, was a chicken. I turned and stared at him for a long minute. "That's a chicken. Is that a chicken? How do we have a chicken in our yard?" He just stood there and grinned. He was coming back from the dump, and it seems he always looks into our back yard when he turns the corner, and he had seen the chicken. He was hoping she was still there by the time he made it into the house.We watched her for a while, discussing where she could have come from, who she could belong to, and the fact that Troy zoning regulations do not allow chickens in the Village District. Such a dumb rule, and I'm on the Zoning Board, so I feel I can make that statement. I believe that so long as you do not have a rooster, and keep only the amount of birds that fit your lot, or no more than five, it should be allowed. I would keep three, which would be the perfect size for my yard. I see where we could run into trouble, with the apartments, and such, but so long as people were smart, and it was on a case by case basis, or landlord had "no chicken" rules, I don't see what the big deal is.<br />
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We figured she would return home by the end of the day, as she was very skittish around us, and put out Cassie's old yard dish full of water for her. We ate lunch at the back table to watch her, entertained to no end by her antics. She was a funny chicken, and our yard is full of beetles, ants and grubs, so I was not worried that she would go hungry. She stayed the whole day, wandering around our yard, never leaving the back, never making any indication that she planned on leaving. I posted a photo of her on Facebook and a funny conversation ensued about where she may have come from and what we were going to do with her. We decided to call her Clara. Around 6:30, she started looking towards the house, and walking back in forth, like she wanted to go inside. She tried to fly up into our bush, unsuccessfully, and we determined she was looking for a place to roost. So much for going home. She ended up in the hedges over next to the Town Hall, and I worried, as she was close to the ground, that a cat would get her.<br />
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Bright and early the next morning, she was back in the yard pecking at the ground. That day she decided I was her flock, and she spent the day following me around whenever I went out into the yard. When it was clear she was not leaving, The boy built a ramp and we placed it against the playhouse. We figured if we could get her in there, she would be safe from predators. She roosted in the shaky, thin branches of the shrub outside of the family room window. The next day I went to the police department and had a humorous discussion with them about the chicken. No one was missing her, but they said I could keep her, zoning or no zoning. The boy and I had a long discussion about it, and we decided that even if chickens were something we would like to consider, now was not the time. You cannot keep a single chicken, as they are flock animals, and we called my friend C, who has a flock at her house, and mad arrangements for her to pick the chicken up later in the week. The chicken continued to roost in the flimsy shrub, and on the last day, when I moved the ramp away from the playhouse, finally flew up onto the perch we had built in there. I think maybe she didn't like the ramp.<br />
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For five days, I did my school work out in the yard, at the back table. I watched as this funny chicken captured my heart with her quirky ways and entertaining personality. She would come running up the yard like a cat whenever I walked through the back door, and then hang about wherever I happened to be. I spent time working in my gardens, just to watch her, and I was sad on the last day, when I knew she would be leaving. That afternoon it poured buckets, and she stood under the table, in two or three inches of water. When the rain let up some, she came and stood next to the big window in our family room, looking like she wanted to come in, and around 5pm, finally decided to roost in the shrub, earlier than she ever had before. My friend C came around 7:40pm, after she got off work, and we managed to pluck her out, and as fast as she came into my life, she was gone. The next day I purposefully stayed inside all day, and kept finding myself looking out the windows toward the back yard. I don't know if we will actually get chickens next spring, but for five days this summer, I had the pleasure of being owned by one.<br />
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<br />onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-51336897799624383832014-08-07T11:04:00.002-04:002014-08-09T09:09:34.604-04:00Through His Eyes Summer is drawing to a near, and with it, the end of the last term of my freshmen year of college. I had this grand idea that over the summer I would be able to get my house spring cleaned, relax, and take some time to enjoy the great outdoors, which I have missed horribly since beginning my coursework in October. What I did not realize was how intense these last two classes were going to be. I will be forever grateful that I managed to schedule them together, over the summer, and that we planned well, and I was able not to have to work this summer.<br />
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Next week, I am going away for four days with my man to celebrate our nineteenth wedding anniversary, and to recharge my relationship. Due to some health issues that I've been having since the start of the year, planning for our trip this year has been more than a little difficult, to the point of almost wishing we weren't going. Things have managed to fall into our place, and I cannot wait to sit in the sun, play our traditional round of mini-golf (our first date was at a mini-golf place), and just enjoy spending time together, alone. We have talking to do, and dreams to share, and memories to make. I have realized that as we keep journeying forward in rebuilding our relationship, it's not about looking backwards, it's about constantly moving forward, and starting over, each day.<br />
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In a very low moment that I had recently, I asked him on the brink of tears, that if he knew I would end up so broken, health-wise, if he would have still married me. He took my face in his hands, looked me in the eyes, and said, "Absolutely." He meant it from the bottom of his heart. I get caught up in thinking of how he must miss out on us being able to go out on dinner dates, as he loves to go out to eat, or how my food issues have changed our nightly dinners (even though they are more healthy), and I feel in some secret place in my heart, that he must resent me. Crazy, yes. He doesn't harbor a resentful bone in his body, but I do sometimes, and I project that onto him. I think that because I feel so awful, and broken, and like I'm a mess, that he must see me that same way too. He doesn't. He looks at me, and somehow, through the sharp pointy edges and sunken features, he sees the beautiful woman he fell in love with all those years ago. I wish I could see myself through his eyes, if only for a moment.<br />
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<br />onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-42482409142010397722014-06-16T05:15:00.002-04:002014-06-16T05:15:32.063-04:00Like Finishing a MarathonWhen I enrolled as a full-time college student back in October, I knew that it was going to turn my life upside down. Working full-time, and taking two classes each term (a term lasts for eight weeks) was going to require a huge amount of perseverance on my part, a lot of work, and a huge amount of organization. I felt pretty good about it though, being a type-A, first born with OCD-tendencies. Organization is something I have in droves.<br />
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What I wasn't prepared for, was how much time it was going to consume. How every waking minute of my day, that I wasn't at my job, was going to be consumed by school work. My body rebelled against sleep at some point over the last year, and I have been waking between 3am and 4am, which has been extraordinarily helpful in getting the school work completed and not feeling like I am losing my sanity, but at the same time, it has been exhausting. It also allowed me to spend Sunday afternoons with my husband. This was important as we are in the fledgling stages of "better", and I want to keep that moving forward.<br />
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This last term, however, has been an arse-kicker. Two courses with an extra-heavy work load, and a ton of end of the year commitments on the part of my daughter. I feel like I have been running a marathon trying to get it all done. My yard has been neglected, my house has been neglected, and I feel like I have barely seen my husband. We finished our last day with students on Friday, have a few workshop days this week, and then I am done working for the summer. I decided, with the convincing of my clear-headed husband, that there was no way I could work in the hot sun at the blueberry farm this summer, and then come home and do two classes worth of work.<br />
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I cannot wait to get my life back in order. To weed my gardens, clean my house, and maybe even do something fun, like knit or read a book. The end is in sight, I just have to cross that finish line.onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-65971283940472121962014-04-15T05:34:00.001-04:002014-04-15T05:34:03.039-04:00The Least of These.. As we head into the most holy week of the church year, I am sharing this video with the few of you who still come here and read my blog. I sponsor two beautiful little girls through Compassion International, Mariah and Aylin. I just began sponsoring Aylin last month, a gift to her, in honor of my 40th birthday this year, but really, it's a gift to me. I get the gift her her smile looking out from the frame on my trunk. The gift of her letters over the next dozen years or more. The gift of knowing that her life is going to be made better, because of a simple thing that I can do. Sponsorship costs $38 per month, which works out to roughly $1.25 per day. Consider what you spend $38 a month on now, and then consider taking that money and using it to change a life.<br />
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<br />onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-32635069394204018302014-02-13T05:09:00.000-05:002014-02-13T05:09:10.526-05:00In Which we Find we are Half-way Through February <span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Thomas Carlyle said, "The illimitable, </span>silent, never-resting thing called Time, rolling rushing on, swift, silent like an all-ebmracing ocean-tide, on which we and all the universe swim like exhalations, like apparitions which are, and then are not..." </span><br />
<span style="background-color: #e5e5dd; color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">It would appear that I blinked, and suddenly we are almost mid-way through February. How is that possible? Today is the 104th calendar day of school (we've missed 4, and today is a snow day due to a storm rolling in), although we won't be celebrating the hundredth day until tomorrow, or possibly Monday. In only 72 school days, we will be saying goodbye to the kids for the summer. Corey's mid-winter break starts today and extends until Sunday. He isn't coming home, but it's just one more reminder that time is rushing by. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">I get up, do a few chores, do college work for several hours, spend half an hour getting some exercise in, eat breakfast, get ready for work, and then it's off to school. After a long day there, I come home, do a few more chores, make some tea, and it's back to the books/computer. After dinner I put in another hour or two, and then I try to spend a few hours relaxing before bed. They key there is try. Right now, I spend that time watching the Olympics in the arms of my man. I can usually last about 20 minutes before I fall sound asleep. I think to myself sometimes that I will knit, or look at a few magazines, and it never works out. I reserve time on the weekends for that, and I generally let Sunday be a day of non-study/work. </span><br />
<span style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">This cycle is my new normal and will be for the next few years, and we are working on making it work. Having a supportive spouse makes such a big difference, and I know that I wouldn't be able to do any of this without him. I have always been the one doing the supporting, and it's hard to let go of some of the things that need letting go of, and let someone else take charge and support you. I am learning, and in that process I am grateful that each and every day is a chance to start over new. </span><br />
<br />onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-5724982358825968512014-01-10T15:58:00.001-05:002014-01-10T15:58:55.378-05:00Start as You Mean to Go OnThere's an old British expression that says, "Start as you mean to go on." It a nutshell, it says that however you begin, is how you will continue on going so you might as well give it your best effort from the get-go. In regards to the new year starting, whatever habits you put into place now will stick with you for the rest of the year if you are committed to making them work.<br />
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Being in education, it's hard to envision January as the start of the year. School starts at the end of August and by the time January rolls around we are almost at the half-way mark. The best time for putting new habits into place if your calendar revolves around a school year is during those first weeks of school.<br />
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Still, there is something very rewarding about putting a fresh new calendar into the holder. All of those blank squares just filled with the promise of outings, appointments, hopes and dreams. All of the days that hold the potential to be filled with enrichment, or disappointment. The choice that needs to be made in January, is "How do I want this year to look?" I spent a few posts already talking about that, so I won't go there again.<br />
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We started out the new year with a family trip to the movies to see The Hobbit. It was supposed to be our last day of vacation, and I wanted us to do something fun. It was a great movie, and we had a grand time. We came home to a news report promising junky weather and icy roads and a flicker of hope sparked inside of me. Could we be so lucky as to have a snow day on Thursday? Sure enough, school was cancelled Thursday, and again Friday due to that same storm and frigid temperature. We gained two more days to spend together before Corey had to leave back to college. We played Doctor Who monopoly, watched some movies, and just enjoyed each others company. It may have been the laziest vacation ever, but it was restful, and relaxing and enjoyable. A nice way to end the year, and a better way to start the new one.<br />
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This week we are back to work, my college courses have started back up, and Corey left on Wednesday. I am trying to get into a more productive routine, but the weather and the work load is getting the best of me, so I am doing the best I can. There are some things that need attention, a few things that need to get back onto the schedule, and some things that need to get off of it. Work continues to be a crabby situation for at least two more weeks, but there's a light in the darkness of the winter. It's January, and so far, there are no signs of winter depression setting in. I don't know if it's the 1,000 IU's of Vitamin D3 I am taking on top of my daily multivitamin or what, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I am going to call this week an "adjustment week", and get back into my groove next week.<br />
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I mean to go on like a champion.onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-82490673066388193022013-12-30T11:40:00.001-05:002013-12-30T18:22:03.542-05:00On Moving Forwards<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We've reached that point in the year when it's customary to look back at the year we are leaving behind. To take stock of the days behind us and pass judgement on them as either a success, or a failure. To look at that list of goals or resolutions we penned back when the year was fresh, and determine if we have achieved what we set out for, or if we managed to fall short. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's easy to face the new year, when you are coming off a year with little to no turmoil. When you can count on only two hands the amount of heartache that has come into your life. When you can look at that list of goals and check off at least half and feel that even if you didn't quite achieve them all, you did pretty OK. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ann Voskamp said, " How in the world do you step hopeful into the next year, when you tripped messy through the last year? How do you stand brave with all the smiling rest and ring in the new year when the old year still feels a bit like a millstone around the neck? What if everyone else is making New Year's resolutions and you just want New You solutions? "</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's easy to sit in reflection of a year that has been less then ideal, and feel like you want a do-over. To wish that you could go back and change this or that, or to look at that list of goals and things you wanted to accomplish, and feel like a world class failure. To dwell on all the bad choices that you made that led to that list not getting checked off, or to want to start again with the same things you always focus on. To get stuck in a rut that will no likely, have you sitting in the same place at this time next year. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Phillipians 3:13-14 reads: </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.4;">“But one thing I do</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.4;">: </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.4;">forgetting what lies behind </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.4;">and straining</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.4;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.4;">forward</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.4;"> </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.4;">to what lies ahead…</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.4;">I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.4;">.” </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">For 2014, I'm moving forward. I'm letting go of the past hurt and disappointments. I am done dwelling on the why-nots and the why-can'ts and the how-comes. I am not going to spend any more mental energy thinking about where we have been, or where I have been, or what didn't get done or didn't work, and I am moving forward. Every time I fall, instead of getting caught in the trap of "here we are again", I am going to pick myself up, and start over again. Looking at how I can learn, and how it can help me to grow. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">Care to join me? </span></span><br />
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onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-37932053268617443882013-12-28T05:15:00.001-05:002013-12-28T05:15:45.859-05:00One Little Word: 2014<div>
At the end of last year, I sat in my office staring out the window with tears running down my face and typed <a href="http://scrappychick.blogspot.com/2012_12_01_archive.html">this post</a> about how I was going to revisit my word from 2012 in 2013. After several miserable months of feeling like my world was falling apart, I planned to spend a lot of time focusing on putting myself back together. On finding myself and rediscovering who I was again. </div>
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2013 wasn't exactly the year I had hoped for. The year started out rocky, my relationship was a mess for the better part of half the year, we had a horrible situation to deal with in my extended family, we lost our dog in late October, I lost a dear friend to cancer and my MIL was just released from the hospital the night before last. </div>
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Through that all however, over these last 6 months I have begun to find myself again. I discovered that in order to survive the mess that my relationship was turning into, I had to stop focusing on what wasn't working, and what was broken, and start focusing on me. I had to start looking at my contributions to it and what I could be doing to make things better. It wasn't easy, and it's a recommitment that I have to make every single day and sometimes more than once a day, but it has made such a difference. Right now, we are in a much better place than we have been in a long time, moving forward and upward and I thank God every day for giving me the strength to stick it out. </div>
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I discovered things about myself that I didn't feel positively about, and I have been working on changing them. Again, this hasn't been an easy process, and sometimes I slide backwards, but I apologize and move forward. I have spent a lot of time thinking about who I want to be, and how I want to be, and I"m still working on it. I will continue with this in 2014. </div>
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Looking forward however, what I want from 2014 is for it to be a year of restoration. </div>
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Restoration</b>: noun- 1. the act or process of returning something to it's original condition by repairing it, cleaning it, etc. 2. the act of bringing back something that existed before 3. the act of returning something that was stolen or taken<br />
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I want to keep working on moving my marriage forward into what looks to be something better than it's ever been before. I have been working on changing me and in the process of not focusing on him, he has taken it upon himself to do better. To look at himself and see what needed doing. We are both doing our best and I am hoping that 2014 can be a year for our relationship to thrive. We haven't had a good relationship in a long, long time. </div>
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I want to keep working on finding myself. I have started college, I am working on starting a plan for what I want to do with my future and through the process of rehabbing my knee so that I can start running again, I'm making my whole self stronger. </div>
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So what I want from 2014, is restoration. I feel hopeful that I will be able to get to the end of next year, and have achieved this goal. </div>
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onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-81297828168613119052013-12-27T07:10:00.000-05:002013-12-28T05:12:59.581-05:00A Letter to My Boy On His Birthday <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Back when you were in elementary school, you hated that your birthday fell during Christmas vacation. You didn't think it was fair that everyone else got to celebrate their birthdays at school with their friends, and cupcakes or treats that their moms brought in, and your birthday was a day during vacation, which wasn't even the same as having it on a weekend. In response to this, I would remind you that your sister had a birthday during the summer, and she never got to celebrate her birthday at school either. You didn't care, and that didn't make it any better. I tried really hard over the years to make sure that your birthday was kept separate from Christmas, and we tried to plan for your family parties to be the weekend after Christmas was over. I hated when people gave you gifts for Christmas and said, "This is for your birthday and Christmas." I guess if I am grateful for one thing, it's that you weren't born ON Christmas Day. Can you imagine how awful that would've been? Take the few extra days, and relish in the fact that it's never going to be 102 degrees with 89% humidity on your birthday. She can't say the same thing about hers.<br />
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Now that you are in college I find myself enjoying the fact that your birthday is over Christmas break. If it were during the school year you would be away at school doing important learning, or whatever things you do at school that aren't learning. You would likely celebrate it with your friends in COSI, which I am sure you would find all sorts of pleasure in. If it were during the summer you would be off working at some important job that is going to be a stepping stone to the most amazing career that you will come by without too much effort. Likely that job will be on the other side of the country, which means that you'd be celebrating it without us. But because it is over Christmas break, you are here with us. For this year, and at least the next 3 years, you will be at home for your birthday. I get a few more years to celebrate with you, before you go off on your own. </div>
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I promise that I won't be like Grammy and have you come back home for birthday dinners. If you would like to come home for dinner on your birthday, that is fine and I would be happy to have you here. That choice however, is entirely up to you. It is your special day and I will always honor your wishes to celebrate it how you'd like. </div>
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For now though, I am going to try not to think about how this is your last year as a teenager. How next year, you will turn 20, and then the year after that you will be 21 and legal to do all the rest of the things you can't quite do yet. How in just a few years, you will be leaving for good, to go off and and find your own place in the world. Happy Birthday Corey. Keep blazing that trail.<br />
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onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-56622464106535934872013-12-26T11:17:00.003-05:002013-12-26T11:17:54.434-05:00Catching Up: A New Niece<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Growing up I was surrounded by boys. Having only brothers meant that I was outnumbered when it came to answering "What do you want to play?" and "What should we watch on TV?" If I was lucky enough to get up early, I could watch what I wanted. If I played with them first, they might be convinced to play with me later. Some of them would play with me just because they thought my toys were cool. Others, wouldn't be caught dead. I thought when they got older it would mean that they would bring some cute friends over, but that never worked out in my favor either. They were loud, their music tastes were awful, they ate everything that wasn't nailed down and their rooms smelled funny.<br />
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I hated being the only girl. I longed for a sister to tell my secrets to. I wished for someone to share clothes with, and to do my hair while we sat on a bed and giggled over who was crushing on who at school. I envied my friends who had sisters and the relationships that they had with them. I envied my brothers for that matter, because they had the kind of relationships that I wished for. Granted, they weren't perfect, and when we were younger they were a little rougher, but they were boys, and got each other. I wanted what they had. It just wasn't fair.<br />
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Now that I am older, and our siblings are starting to have kids of their own, I am surrounded by little girls. Each time the ultrasound appointment comes to pass and we get another announcement of "It's a girl!", I give a secret wink in the direction of the sky. I relish in the cute little clothes that I can buy at the store, and the adorable patterns that are available for knitting when it comes to girls. I tell everyone that all of these nieces are my reward for surviving a lifetime of boys. I get a lot of laughs when I announce that, but I'm really not kidding. Nothing makes my heart happier then spending time with my girls.<br />
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In early November, my brother Brian and his girlfriend gave birth to this little peanut, who is the first baby to be born in our family since my daughter, almost 16.5 years ago. She was born just about the same size as I was all those years ago, and is just the cutest little thing EVER. I'm told all she does is want to be held all day and fusses and cries, but every time I get my hands on her, all she does is snuggle and sleep. She was the perfect gift this year.<br />
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Just a week later, I found out that my sweet sister-in-law, who has been trying with some complicates to have a baby for 11 years now, is due in early June. They find out the gender on New Years Eve, and while I would love to have a little boy to spoil rotten, the gut feeling in my heart says girl. Of course, no matter what, we are praying for healthy, but I've already been eyeballing some new patterns for the summer. They may or may not be dresses. One of these days I am going to have a grand tea party with all of those girls, and it is going to be glorious.onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-7043698877741115512013-12-12T05:10:00.002-05:002013-12-12T05:10:45.013-05:00Catching Up: Our First Trip to Visit Him at College <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I sent him off to college, there was a small shard of fear wedged into this mama's heart. My boy has had a rough couple of years, and while he's in a much better place now, he's been here for me to keep an eye on. To be able to monitor for signs that things are starting to slide backwards and we need to take steps to get them headed in the right direction again. The idea of him being so far away, with no one who knew where he's been and what demons he fights, kept me up a few long nights over the last weeks of summer break. Would he ask for help if he needed it? Would anyone notice if he started to withdraw and fall back into the darkness? Would his meds keep working the way that he needed them too, and would he remember to take them every day?<br />
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Talking to him, just through FaceBook messenger during those first weeks made me feel a little bit better, but not much. He said he was doing fine, things were going well and he really liked school. Comments he made to questions others asked confirmed this same sentiment, but there is that screen between reality and the written word. My worried mind wondered, "Is he really, or is he just typing that so I don't worry?" Several Google Hang-out chats and phone calls eased my mind a little more, as he sounded happy, and he was meeting people and getting involved in things. My boy, who likes nothing more than to hole up in his space and have no one bother him, was out there interacting with the world.<br />
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At the end of October we had the opportunity to go visit him at school. Of course, I jumped at it. He was less then thrilled. The idea of "family weekend" was dumb and he didn't think we should bother coming. I told him that I had already booked our room, and we were coming at least this year. I needed to see with my own eyes that he was doing OK. That things really were going well and he wasn't just saying so. My mama instincts would hone right in on if anything was wrong with just one look and within less then 10 minutes. So one weekend around mid-late October, we drove up to his campus on a Friday.<br />
We met him after his last class let go, and after some visiting and good natured poking fun at his sister, who was on crutches for being klutzy, we went for a long walk in the local cemetery, then out for dinner.<br />
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My boy was good, I could tell right away. He has found a group of like-minded friends who share a lot of his same interests. He has found a hang-out, with this same group of friends, in the Open-Source Lab. He has taken part in activities, he volunteered at the fall open house for the college, the list goes on and on. The weekend that we were there, the next day, when we had to leave early instead of staying and participating in the days events due to a band show Ash had to march in, he was scheduled to be competing in a computer coding competition between the two local colleges. l left, with a smile in my heart. Nothing will ever replace that small shard of fear that will always worry about him, but I feel much better about him being six hours away from home, out from under my watchful eye.onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-13083924881735627952013-10-25T06:27:00.002-04:002013-10-25T06:27:31.266-04:00On Returning to College It happened during the summer between third and fourth grade.<br />
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We moved from a fairly big city in Massachusetts to a very rural, affluent town in southern New Hampshire. It didn't matter that my father was a vice president of a bank, or that my mother had gone to Northeastern College and worked at a hospital. No one cared that we had bought a 4 bedroom house in a new development on a decent sized lot. We were "that family from Lawrence."<br />
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Not only was I the new girl from the poor city that was always getting a bad rap on the news, I had come from a private catholic school. Fourth grade was my first endeavor into public school, and it was awful. I had made friends with some of the kids who lived on my street over the summer, but once school started, they were more interested in their friends, who wanted nothing to do with the new girl. I lost any self confidence I had that year.<br />
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The next few years of my life were hell for a whole different reason, and by the time I got into high school not only was I a mess, but things at home were starting to fall apart as well. When I finished high school, I wanted to go to college and become a teacher. I didn't have the money, which I realize now shouldn't have mattered, and I didn't have anyone who supported me enough to help me follow that dream. To work with me through applying for financial aid and getting scholarships and encouraging me to pursue what I wanted to do with my life.<br />
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I wasn't strong enough to do it on my own. That's a lie. I have always been strong enough. I just didn't know I was at the time. I was hurt, and tired, and defeated and couldn't see that I was strong enough to do it on my own.<br />
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Henry Stanley Haskins said, "What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us."<br />
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Life laid out a different path for me to follow than the one I wanted to travel, and 21 years later has brought me here.<br />
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I am more comfortable in my own skin than I have ever been in my life. I am learning that in me is all that I need. I am OK with my failures and I am learning to recognize my shortcomings and working on making myself better. I still struggle with self confidence. I still crave to hear that I'm pretty or loved or needed. I know for sure though, how strong I am. I am a survivor, and a warrior, and a champion.<br />
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On Monday, I start my first class in perusing my Bachelor's degree in English/Creative Writing. It's never to late to start a new beginning.<br />
<br />onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-35861778157033989252013-10-12T21:01:00.000-04:002013-10-12T21:01:25.271-04:00When You Need the Day to Start OverI walked down the stairs and through the dark house at 3am and found him on the couch playing X-Box with his friends.<br />
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I already knew he was there, because his voice had carried upstairs through the wall the high wall the family room shares with our bedroom through some quirky addition to our original house, at 1:45. I had thought at the time that he would be coming to bed soon and that I would be able to just go back to sleep.<br />
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He continued to play, and while I was glad he was enjoying himself, I was angry at how inconsiderate he was being to the fact that I was trying to sleep. Finally, when 3am rolled around and it became apparent that not only was he still playing but I still wasn't sleeping, I went downstairs. I might go so far as to say I stormed. Just a little.<br />
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I could've handled it a lot better than I did.<br />
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I could've stated that his voice was carrying up to our bedroom and could he please be more quiet and then turned around and walked back up to bed.<br />
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I didn't.<br />
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Instead, a week's worth of not sleeping well took over, and I stood there for about 30 seconds, exhausted and angry at having been woken up so early, when I'm already waking up at 3am on my own, and bellowed at him, "Shut it off!"<br />
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He didn't say anything for a minute or two, but then spoke to his friend through the mic and said, "I think I'm going to get going." Some chatter on the other end was followed with, "Yah, I woke Beth up."<br />
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It might have been the laughter that pushed me over the edge. It wasn't his laughter, and I know his friend, who probably wasn't laughing that I was up, but more likely that he knew trouble was brewing at my house.<br />
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Either way, as there was some more talking/listening, I repeated my order, because that is what it was, honestly, an order, and as he started to put his stuff away I let loose. I barked out that he had woken me up at 1:45, but I thought perhaps it might be OK, because I thought he would be on his way to bed.. but CLEARLY (I raised my voice at that) I was wrong and he had no intention of coming to bed because here it was 3am and he was still playing. However, I was NOT coming back to bed because I wasn't about to spend the short amount of sleep I might be able to salvage out of the rest of the night listening to him snore.<br />
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Off he went, and I tried to get some more sleep on the couch, but failed miserable.<br />
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He finally woke up at almost 11am, after I had been awake for 9 hours and was fighting a raging headache and eyes that felt like sandpaper.<br />
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He came in to see me after his shower, and he apologized for being inconsiderate both about the loud voice, and for sleeping half the day away.<br />
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I told him that I wanted to accept his apology, but at that moment I was still feeling tired and headachy and my eyes hurt and I just couldn't do anything with it, but thanked him.<br />
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It was a testament of how far we both have come. The apology, the acceptance of it, and that from right there, we were able to move forward and have a good rest of the day together. I can look at the whole thing and see where I went wrong and what I could've done better.onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-52757464106624887622013-10-11T22:32:00.000-04:002013-10-12T18:33:23.549-04:00When You Feel Like Things are Falling Into Place We drove out to the city today before work.<br />
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When they called and asked if we could be there at 1:30 this afternoon I replied, "No ma'am, I'll be in the middle of some important state testing with my students then, can we do it earlier?". She replied with, "Sure, how does 8:00am sound?" and that was that.<br />
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I'm always reminded when we drive through, or back there, of the reasons I wanted to leave. As we drove down the highway headed towards our exit, an airplane took off from the airport and it was as large as life. I remember our first apartment and how it was right next to the train tracks. Often the sound of a coal train would awaken me in the middle of the night as it rumbled through on it's way to or from Maine.<br />
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We refinanced our mortgage; changed from a 30 year loan, of which we had 18 years left to pay on, to a 20 year, dropped 2.ish%, our monthly payment drops $100 until our taxes go up again, and we will save so many thousands of dollars (to the tune of 50-something if I remember right) over those remaining years that we couldn't not do it. I realize that the interest rates are higher now than they have been in recent years, but we weren't in a position then to be able to do anything about it. The time was right at the moment, so we jumped on it.<br />
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We're going to take the escrow money that we don't have to pay ourselves back with, and the extra money we aren't paying each month and start saving up for new windows. It's one of our bigger projects, in addition to the the dozens of other projects that need attention, but this is a pressing issue. We'll not only increase the value of the house by removing those hundred year old windows, but hopefully we'll see a fuel savings as well.<br />
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<br />onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-63785671564011735742013-10-10T19:36:00.002-04:002013-10-10T19:36:49.570-04:00Musings on an October Day L.M. Montgomery wrote "October was a beautiful month at Green Gables, when the birches in the hollow turned as golden as sunshine and the maples behind the orchard were royal crimson and the wild cherry trees along the lane put on the loveliest shades of dark red and bronzy green, while the fields sunned themselves in the aftermaths. Anne reveled in the world of color about her..."I'm so glad I live in a world where they are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn't it?..."<br />
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Aside from loving Anne of Green Gables, I love the colors of fall. I love the different shades of green, and deep orange and crimson red and royal purple and brown are the colors that I am drawn to when I make my wardrobe choices, if I'm not choosing black or grey. I feel like October is the month that fall really shines. Here in NH we call it "peak season" and it's the time when the leaves are their most glorious colors and you can drive through the state and admire the changing foliage from north to south through the month.<br />
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October is also a month that I struggle with. In school it's the month that we spend weeks doing out mandatory state testing. It's a month that ties to dark memories of my past. The funny thing about that, is that there should be so many months that tie to dark memories of my past, but October was a pivotal month, and therefore has a special place tied up in my memories. You'd think after so many years of your life, your could let go of things from your past. That eventually you move on and are done with them. Yet every year when October rolls around I am haunted by some of the same dreams, and the same dark ghosts.<br />
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I often wonder if I could go back, if I could change any of it, would I? Would I trade it all in, give it all up, for a different experience? I wouldn't be the same strong person that I am today. As hard as it's been and as rough of a road that I've had to travel, would I change any of it? I don't know. I really don't know.onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11567267.post-643898601917086412013-10-09T21:57:00.000-04:002013-10-10T05:59:19.967-04:00Less Screen TimeOne of the changes I have been wanting to make, and failing miserable at, is to spend less time in front of a screen. I feel in this day and age of smart phones and social media that a large part of how we connect to each other is done through the use of technology.<br />
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It's not always a bad thing. Social media let's me see photos of my niece on an almost daily basis when I only get to see her in person every few months or less. I am able to chat with my son, who is 6 hours away at college, at 4 am when I am getting up and he is on his way to bed. It lets my daughter send me urgent messages from her class at school when she feels like she's had an allergic reaction, without having to wait for permission to leave the room or having gone through the channels of the school nurse and all her processes when critical time is being wasted.<br />
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Then there is the wasted time. The time when I could be doing other things, but sit down "just to check email" or "just for 5 minutes" and it turns into an hour before I look up from the screen. There are the days when I am too tired to do anything else, and instead of reading a book, or spending time knitting on projects I need to get finished, I curl up in my favorite chair under a blanket with my iPad and spend that last hour before bed browsing Pinterest.<br />
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I do believe there is a time and a place for all of it, and we each need to find our own balance. I am working on finding mine, and some days are better than others. I am also looking into going back to school...online. The irony of it it all isn't lost on me, and finding that balance is going to become even more critical. For a while I was doing really well with staying unplugged on Sunday's, and I want to get back to that, starting this week. I do believe that it's important to have one day a week away from it all, and I need to make that a priority again. I might even get a nap in.onescrappychickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16005212511564336203noreply@blogger.com0