Our House is a Clown Car

Four years ago (or so...I've lost track of time and reality) we moved into our home. Boasting three bedrooms, one and a half baths, living room, dining room, kitchen, a green room, and large basement..it felt like a castle. Sometimes, it's hard to believe that it was ever so spacious and roomy. Aria had her own room, we had our own room, and I even had a makeup room. The green room was a nursery because I was babysitting two little ones. It was neat, organized, and more than we needed.

Now our house is slowly turning into the famous Winchester house. Rooms keep getting added on in order to make space for our constantly changing and growing family. It's like a clown car. It looks small and unassuming..yet, at any given moment..a herd of people could come out of it.

As time went on and more people came in and out of our lives and home, we have learned the art of rearranging areas to make more room. My makeup room was sight to behold. Painted in a deep hot pink with white and black accents. It even had a guest bed for company. It was so cheerful and dramatic to walk into. Posh. It was posh. Well, as posh as I could ever be.It was also the first room to go. It was OK, I was not heart broken..more or less I saw it as a necessity and made the changes. It became our bedroom. The color scheme now seems overkill. Waking up to hot pink is not as pleasing. We keep saying we are going to change it, but the truth is...we never get around to it,

Mainly because...we are always rearranging the rest of the house to make more space.

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have a shortage of doors? I can tell you this. You start eyeing rummage sales for them. Doors are not cheap! Further more, it seems that no one ever parts with them. I'm beginning to believe that they are endangered due to the demand on them. At this very moment, I am pondering how to turn a front door with window panels..into a bedroom door that will be private enough for the person who will be staying in it. Let's disregard the fact that the day was already spent sanding, planing, and rehanging the thing in a doorway that was not meant for it.

My husband either has the patience of a saint, or he is doing drugs and hiding them from me.

In the short amount of time we have been here he has:
painted and repainted enough to go through 30 gallons of paint
refurbished a house full of furniture to save us money
Torn down and rearranged rooms and everything in them no less than 20 times.
Chiseled, sawed, sanded, and built doorways
Erected dividers
Hung curtain rods hundreds of times (kids are infamous for breaking them)
Changed lighting
Installed air conditioners
Built a kitchen island because of space shortage

This is just a short list. I could go on and on. The man just takes it in stride every time a change needs to be made. He has created a house that would confuse architects. It's nothing short of miraculous.

I don't know how he does it. I just know that I am so lucky to have found a partner who is loving and caring enough to do everything he can to make our home comfortable enough to also be a home for others who need it.

Maybe someday a bunch of money will land in our lap, and we can buy a large house that would be better suited to do what we do. Until then, he's done his best to make our house a home..and when I see the imperfections and little flaws, I think.. my husband did this with his own two hands and ingenuity...and with love in his heart. With that in mind, the flaws disappear into the woodwork.

Hello younger me..I have a few things things to tell you

Let's face it..as we get older we realize that some of the choices we made when we were younger were a bit......flawed. Not well thought out. Impulsive. Sometimes just downright ridiculous.

Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't change the bad and the good that has made up my life, for it has made me who I am. But, there are some things that I would love to have known as a younger person.

Here's my top ten:

1. About 90% of of the fashion choices you made were terrible. Granted, you were pretty poor..but you always found a way to buy Aquanet extra super hold hairspray and turn your bangs into a satellite dish. You probably should have spent that money on something that wasn't going to potentially give you miner's lungs.

2. You will NOT appreciate that Tigger tattoo that you got on impulse. The same with almost all of the other tattoos you got. Tigger? Use your brain, Terralyn. By the time you are thirty you will look at it and wonder at what point you became possessed and made that choice. Heed my advice, seek out a young priest and an old priest.

3. You are not a sexually deviant person for thinking about kissing girls. You are bisexual, it's OK! You first had this thought at 7 years old..go with it. Life is too short to not love. Also, contrary to the beliefs you were raised with...you aren't going to burn in hell for it. So stop praying for salvation every time you look at another woman and think, "I just want to kiss her face."

4.Think about your future body a little bit before sledding down hills that end in concrete. Your brain is important. Stop riding your bicycle like you are Mario Andretti.. although you thought you undid the damage by spending days of your life picking stones out of your knee caps, that's going to come back to haunt you. By the way, you never got all of the stones out.

5. Stop falling for gay guys. I know they are some of the most awesome people to hang out with..but believe me when I tell you.. they do NOT want to kiss you. So just enjoy the friendship and stop hoping they will fall for you. P.S. they like other guys... you don't fit the bill no matter how much you try to.

6. Perfume that costs a dollar is not a going to make you smell good. It gives you a rash and it makes other people think that you broke into your grandmother's stash of Avon perfume that had been in those cool bottles for no less than 30 years. Just put on your deodorant and shower.. again, miner's lungs.

7. Don't trust that uncle who told you he could teach you how to ride a bike. He's going to give you a good push and then laugh hysterically as you slide down the gravel hill like you are a stick of butter on a hot plate. Find someone a little less sadistic.

8. World War 3 is not going to happen in your childhood years. Stop looking at every airplane like it's going to drop a bomb on your home. This is anxiety...perhaps you should be talking to someone about getting that under control now. Later in life it will make you borderline crazy at times.

9. Your brother is a jerk. While you are sitting there feeling guilty about not being a better sister, he's planning the next way to give you stitches. Stop feeling guilty, he's never going to outgrow it. In the span of your childhood, he will send you to the emergency room more times than you can count. Also, he will blame you for everything. You will be spanked a million times for something he did. Just walk away....actually..back away slowly. If you turn your back, you may get another shovel to the head.

10. Roller skates are not for indoors in front a huge picture window. You will go through that window and fall 7 feet onto a stone driveway. Trust me on this...it seems fun right now, but you won't think that when you break a tooth and look like Edward Scissorhands from the many cuts on your face. Maybe skate outside instead?

Marrying the family

I will never forget the first time I sat down to have a meal with the entire Gauthier family. It was loud. There were a million different conversations going at once. There was more laughter in one room than can be found at a comedy show. Also, the room was shaking..because nearly every one of them bounces their knee.

At first, I was overwhelmed. I hadn't been part of a large family since my childhood...and that was nothing like what I was experiencing. The sheer volume of the group was over stimulating. I didn't know who's conversation to pay attention to. I felt like a silent spectator at a movie.

A wonderful, loving movie.

Long before I married Kendrick, I knew that I wanted to marry his family at the same time. In the time before we got married I had come to love this family like they had always been mine and they treated me like I had always been theirs.

Don't get me wrong. Our family is no different than any other family. We are quirky and not without faults. But, the fact is.. I wouldn't change any of it. I have created more memorable moments in the years I have known them, than I had in the whole of my life before them.

I not only gained a mother and father, but a sister and brothers. Family that didn't act like I was an outsider..they celebrated me! They've cried with me, laughed with me, held me, and taught me that unconditional love is a very real thing. More so, they taught me that I was deserving of it.

Mom: Thank you for always listening and giving advice in your gentle, knowing way. Thank you for never expecting me to treat Kendrick any other way than how I treat him. And thanks for raising him (and all your children) in a way that has made him so caring and thoughtful.

Dad: Thank you for always putting your family first and teaching us that in all things, we have each other. Thanks for teaching me how to act like a kid again, that it's ok to be silly and ridiculous.

Katherine: You and I were meant to be sisters. Sometimes I feel as though I have known you all of my life. You were the sister born of my heart. Thank you for giving me that. Thank you for giving me my beautiful God daughter... I will never forget the day she was born and the moments we shared. I can't begin to explain in words just what you mean to me.

Matthew: Thanks for the moments between us that have made me laugh more times than I can count. Thanks for the knowledge that you always have my back.

Chris: Thank you for your heart. You are kind and empathetic to those who need it most. Such a wonderful trait and one that inspires me.

Also, mom and dad... thanks for cleaning the puke off me when I had heat stroke and projectile vomited all over myself and the car. (You guys know I had to end this on a funny note)

Seriously...I was a stinky mess.

(anti) social media??

Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain, and I end up getting involved in things that I shouldn't.

I find this to be more true on social networking platforms than in my face to face interactions. Not that I am not outspoken outside of social media, but I seem to have a better handle on knowing when to let something go.

Social media is so wonderful in many ways. It lets us interact with people who are living a distance away. It lets us reconnect with people from our past that we've lost touch with. It allows us to share our thoughts and details about our lives with those who we choose to let see.

But there is a darker side to social media. Because we are not face to face with someone, we sometimes feel that it is OK to weigh in on topics that we ought to stay out of. Not that it isn't OK to have an opinion, but it's easy to behave in a way that contradicts how we would behave otherwise. Passive aggressive behavior runs rampant on these platforms. People will post or say things just to jab at others. There seems to be little to no repercussion for this type of behavior. People become scholars in a subject because they have information readily available on the internet. People can verbally attack one another because there is no visible reaction like there is real life.

Last night, I found myself in a debate about a topic...with someone I had never met. They were bent on arguing with me and belittling with sarcasm and swearing. For a moment, I got sucked into it and rebutted. Then my senses kicked in and I realized that it just didn't matter. I wasn't angry that the person didn't see eye to eye with me, more so, I was upset that the person would react so rudely. As if this rather insignificant topic somehow made them so mad that they thought it was OK to lash out.

And that's when I realized that I needed to step back and remove myself from the situation.

Here I was, a mature adult... trying to make someone understand me. For what? What do I serve to gain from doing that? Nothing. I am no more important to this person than a stranger on the street. But I felt myself so badly wanting them to understand my point. The fact is, they had decided to NOT to try to understand me from the moment they started responding. I should have seen that.

I spend much of my life trying to connect in a meaningful way with others. I often talk to strangers I meet in stores or in public...just to connect. It seems that social media (emphasis on the social part) would help encourage others to do the same. Yet, I am learning that it is rife with people who seem to benefit from being more disagreeable and mean than nice.

The old saying, "silence is golden" came to mind. I think that I need to start practicing that. I think that I need to see a situation that has the potential for becoming negative, and stay away from it. I am good at doing this in my everyday life, I just need to remember to do this with social media as well.

I also need to remember that there are those, who will argue for the sake of arguing. Or people that are emotionally attached to a topic and feel compelled to defend their point without concern for the person they are attacking.

To those of you that I reach out to, know that I always do so out of love..and with a kindred spirit. I care about you.

Also, I am still learning and growing as a person. It's a lifelong journey... these little lessons serve to make me a better person.

I Love New York??

Conversation with Kendrick...

Him: I hate the cold. I hate the snow. This sucks so bad.
Me: Maybe we should consider moving south? We both hate the cold....
Him: No!!
Me: Why?
Him: Because I love New York!
Me: You love New York? Really? You love this state?
Him: I tolerate NY.
Me:......tolerate
Him: It's passable. It's passable NY.
Me: Well that seems like a reasonable reason to stay. Where we live is...passable.
Him: I've gotta go bundle up like I'm going into the Alaskan wilderness. Brave the elements. Provide for my family.
Interpreted: put on a coat, shovel the walk, and drive a mile to the store
Me: I know baby, but it's worth it.. it's all part of tolerating New York.

Giving your all to the ones who need it.

My childhood was not ideal. In fact, to say I had much of a childhood..would be inaccurate. Apart from my one close friend who was able to take me into her imagination with her and help me forget about reality for a while, I lived in a battlefield of dysfunction and abuse in every form. 

I don't feel I'm unique in that way. We all have had struggles in our lives, and I am aware that they shape who we become..good and bad. But there are some struggles that a child may face, that never really go away. You can forgive, you can stop a cycle of abuse, you can learn from it. That doesn't mean that it makes it disappear. 

Still, to this day, my inner child can be brought to tears in a heartbeat. Specifically when I see that someone is being hurt or hurting in a way that I've experienced. The tears are no longer tears of anger or frustration..they are tears of sadness. Remembering feeling abandoned, remembering abuse...and remembering that there was a time in my life that I was betrayed by my own kin. Feelings that I've dealt with as best as I can, but will sit under the surface of my psyche for as long as I live.

I write this, not only for myself..but for others as well.

We get one chance at this life. Whether you are a parent or a caretaker of someone..you get one shot at it. You are given the trust and love of that person. What you do with it is your choice. But know this. Your direct action or inaction will have lasting results. You can choose to help or hurt. 

Parenting is one of those things in life that I feel the strongest about. In today's society, there is a large number of children being raised by people who are not wholly invested in them. We have so much around us to take our attention away. Work, socializing, and technology. Even our own issues that we've ignored. We see a generation of kids acting out in extreme ways, vying for attention, needing your time. We see children with anger that is unlike anything we've seen in the past...because they are not being listened to and they don't know what to do with their feelings. We have kids who are "disappearing" right before our very eyes, into games and television and computer..because this is all they know. We now have a large portion of parents who have become yellers and screamers because they get annoyed that their children's behavior reflects their poor parenting or they ignore their kid's needs until that child acts out in a way that angers or inconveniences the parent. We've also become the generation of parents who blame society, teachers, and other adults in our children's lives for our children's behavior..before we question our own role. 

When I was one year old, my parents made the decision to leave me at a family member's house because their live's were more important to them. They could not be bothered to try to straighten out their own situations in order to step up to the plate and take care of their child. 

But..

I am becoming aware that there are so many ways to abandon a child. You can live under the very same roof with a child and still abandon them. I feel it so important to ask you to please be aware of this. Know that your life is not the only one that is important enough to dedicate a hundred percent to. We are raising the future. 

It's Not That Punny!

A skeleton walks into a bar and asks for a scotch and a mop.

...................

Did you laugh at that? If the answer is no, then you may be like me. Your brain just doesn't process humor correctly. My husband told me that joke when we were dating... and I only understood once it was explained to me.

Him: A skeleton walks into a bar and asks for a scotch and a mop.
Me: *blinks*
Him: You don't get it?
Me: Not even remotely.
Him: A SKELETON, SCOTCH, MOP... You seriously don't get it?
Me: I'm confused. Skeletons don't talk.
Him: (shaking his head) A scotch..and a mop.....
Me: *blinks*
Him: Just think about it. Why would a skeleton ask for a mop?
Me: Why would he ask for a scotch?! None of this is based in reality.
Him: A SCOTCH, and a MOP!
Me: You can keep saying it, but my brain isn't getting it. Saying it repeatedly is NOT going to make me understand this stupid joke!
Him: It's NOT stupid! You just aren't thinking about it! Come on..a scotch and a mop!
Me: I swear if you say it again I am going to hurt you. I DO NOT COMPREHEND. DOES NOT COMPUTE. Which part of this aren't you getting?? Skeletons are dead people. None of this would ever occur.
Him: You are killing me here. It makes complete sense! A skeleton walks into...
Me: Are you repeating it? Again? Like telling me this crappy joke again will make it suddenly make sense? Your joke lacks depth, it's clearly never something that is going to happen..ever. I just don't get why you are so invested in it... It's like you are getting paid to push this joke on people.
Him: This can't be real. You seriously don't get it?? You are messing with me...(laughs nervously)
Me: Can you please just explain???? Why are we still carrying on about this dumb joke? I don't think anyone besides you gets it! Watch..

At this point, I walked into a room full of coworkers (he was visiting me at work) and tell the joke.

Room erupted in laughter.

My husband looked at me with a smug face..laughing heartily.

Some people are good at telling jokes. I'm the type of person who couldn't remember a joke if I wrote it on the back of my hand. To make matters worse, I'm usually the only one in a crowd that looks at the person telling the joke like he is speaking Greek.

I'm unsure what part of our brain is used to decipher jokes..maybe mine got injured in a sledding accident or one of the many times I fell down as a kid.

By the way, if you are joke challenged like me... the skeleton needs a mop because when he drinks the scotch, it runs right down onto the floor.

My wonderful hubby let me sit on that for a long time before I finally got the explanation. It's no wonder I love him so. Even if he's bad at telling smart jokes that make sense.

My (not so glamorous) Realistic New Year Resolutions

The new year seems to be a time of reflection and setting new goals for many people. I, for one..have never been good about making or keeping them. All the lead up to the new year involving major changes just seems too overwhelming for me. This year I thought I would come up with a doable list. But first, here are the the most common resolutions that people make..according to Google.

1. Quit Smoking
2. Go to the gym
3. Lose weight
4. Spend more time with family
5. Get out of debt
6. Enjoy life more
7. Quit drinking
8. Learn something new
9. Get organized
10. Help others, more

Let's be honest. I could benefit from attempting to do some of those things. Who wouldn't love to not feel their back fat jiggle when they walk down steps? But we all know I've never been a follower. So here is my list.

1. Get that cobweb that's been in our bedroom for the better part of two years. We've grown attached to it. It's like a work of art, so intricate and fragile. But,, whatever spider made it, no longer uses it...and we aren't the Munsters.
2. Put laundry away sooner. Our whole house is really in order most of the time. Our bedroom though, is like the place where laundry goes to die. Clean laundry that is. I once heard someone call their clothes their 'floordrobe'. It's a fitting definition.
3. Finish that baby blanket that I started making for my friend's son. Seriously, he's six months old now. It's been halfway done since before he was born. At this point, my best hope is that they have another baby so I wont look like an idiot when I give it to them.
4. Color my hair more regularly. My husband lovingly reminded me last night that I look older with the gray. The whole purpose of coloring it to cover the gray is to create an illusion, right? Probably going six months in between dye jobs destroys that illusion. So this year, I'm gonna wash that gray right out of my hair.....more often.
5. Buy some couch blankets that actually cover me from neck to toe. Seriously! Who makes these things?? I'm reminded of it every time I lay down on my couch. Is it too much to ask for a blanket that covers more than my chest and lap??
6. Wear my glasses like I am supposed to. Although part of me still feels like telling the optometrist that he was terribly wrong in saying I needed them, I can't deny the fact that I can see road signs when I have them on. I'm also pretty sure that I've developed an awesome set of squinting wrinkles.
7. Buy some new bras and put lace on them. If you have large breasts, you feel me on this one. I can't just buy a bra in a store..I have to order them. Not only are larger bra sizes more expensive, they are also generic. So this year, I think I will buy one and deck it out so that I look like a home made Victoria's Secret model.
8. Shave my legs before they get to the itchy stage. Am I the only one with this problem??? I envy the women who talk about letting their leg hair grow out for the winter. Three days in and I'm ready to take an aluminum scrub brush to my legs. Not to mention, I swim for exercise. I'm sure on some level it creates resistance...This is where I pretend I am doing Olympic swimming instead of water aerobics to 80's music.
9. Throw away socks with holes. I'd say I would throw away socks with no matches, but I layer socks..so I can't be bothered to match them half the time. But holes, no one has time for that. There's nothing worse than putting a sock on only to discover that your pinky toe is hanging out. I'm sure there are worse things..but I challenge you to walk around in a sock with a hole all day..it feels wrong.
10. Put up signs to remind my family to close the cabinet doors after they open them. WHY Is this so hard?? Just shut it! Also, put a sign up by the toilet paper to remind them that if I sit down and there is none on the roll...that I reserve the right to take it out of the bathroom altogether, so they will have to call me on their phones while they sit there and beg me to bring some to them. Turn about is fair play...right?

I hope you all have a great new year. Don't sweat the small stuff. Make your life better by taking baby steps. Who knows, when I'm taking down the cobweb..I may feel inspired to go through the house and dust all of the ceilings. Unlikely, but you never know.

Face Off!

To shave or not to shave. That is the question.

Over our time of being married, I've had at least one hundred discussions with Kendrick about his facial hair. Mind you, I have not started a single one of them.

Years ago, in a galaxy before our marriage..he had a mustache that would rival a porn star's from the 70's. I've seen the pictures. It's not handsome. It's actually quite off putting and scary. Just ask any of his friends and family..and they will agree. I always ask why they let him have it like that for so long without telling him the truth about how he looked. I know I would want blatant honesty if I walked out of the house looking like a porn star from years ago.

The truth is, no one wanted to burst his bubble. His love affair with his facial hair runs deep. It's akin to the love a mother has for her child. He grows it, raises it, nurtures it...lovingly speaks to it...

The problem is, he gets tired of it. And then the same discussion happens every time.

Him: I'm getting sick of my facial hair, what do you think I should do?
Me: We've been through this a hundred times. I know where this is going...
Him: I'm just sayin, let me shave it off except for the mustache and then you can see what it looks like.
Me: I've SEEN what it looks like. You look like a hairy porn star..and not in a good way!!
Him: Maybe this time you will like it...
Me: NO. I will not like it. I haven't liked this experiment the other hundred times.
Him: It wasn't so bad!
Me: EVERYONE in your life has now come clean about just how bad it was!! We can't deny the facts.
Him: People just can't appreciate a good mustache.
Me: Listen Ron Jeremy...it's just not gonna fly.

Tonight's shaving adventure started with a goatee, then a fu man chu, then a mustache with a soul patch, then just a mustache.

The kids had my back this time. It was an emphatic...shave it all off and start over. He came down looking all of 20 years old. Pouting because he shaved off the mustache.

Guess sometimes a guy just needs to spice up his life a little. At least it's just facial hair and not expensive cars or young women.

A Family of Geeks

I would be a liar if I said we weren't a bunch of geeks.

 At any given moment, there is someone, somewhere..playing a video game in our house. We have an original NES, a Super NES, several gameboys of all generations, a GameCube, a psp, and and X Box. Every single person in this house has their own pc as well. There is no shortage of ways to game.

A lot of people will argue that technology can kill relationships. And, I agree with this on some level. As with all things in life, there has to moderation.

Also, my husband and I game together. We have a game room with a large couch and two recliners sitting side by side. We sit there like an old couple, taking turns slaying dragons and making armor. I cheer him on when he's doing a co-op battle with other players. He gets excited for me when I find a new Pokemon. Yes..I'm afraid we are that couple.

Forever acting like children, yet growing old together.

Our kids are more sophisticated gamers. Their games require keyboards instead of a few buttons. My daughter and son keep begging me to become a member and play their game..but I get overwhelmed just watching for a few minutes. Remember the old days when we used to take typing classes on actual typewriters?! Now by the age of six, a child can type seventy words per minute. Sometimes I hear the clacking of keys and wonder if they are just typing random letters...because how in the world can someone type so fast?

And still yet, we have such polarity in this house. One minute my daughter is gaming, the next she's reading for three hours straight in the bath. My son likes to take Physics textbooks in the car to read while I'm driving. I read bedtime stories to my husband. Have you ever seen a grown man cry over a dog dying in a book? It's a beautiful thing.

We don't have cable television. Apart from a movie night now and then, our TV sits behind closed doors with no cable attached to it. I love the response we get when cable companies call to offer us a discount on cable and I politely say, "no thank you..we don't watch TV." I can hear an audible gasp on the other end. "What?? No tv at all? You don't watch TV shows?" It's like people think we are in the dark ages. "What do you do?" We talk. Our living room is a meeting place for talking. Believe it or not, it used to be a common occurrence between family and friends. Sometimes, we get crazy and play a board game or do arts and crafts.

I remember when being called a nerd was a negative thing in school. Now...we own it. We rock it..and we wear the title proudly.

Open door policy? You're insane!

I've been asked a lot lately, how we handle living like this. How it isn't annoying to have any number of people in and out of our house at any given moment. The answer is simple, we couldn't have it any other way. There are times when it's hectic, we have little extra money, or we are physically tired...but feel those things are superficial when faced with a person in need.

To start, these are the rules of our home:
We never turn anyone away unless there is a safety issue. Then we will contact the proper authorities.
All of our family members in the house understand that we are 'on call' 24 hours a day.
We will always offer food, shelter, and a place to sleep.
Everyone maintains a safe environment and body.
No drugs or alcohol. (except for the rare occasion that an adult chooses to have a drink. We do not condone drinking to excess in the home. Minors are not allowed to drink at any time in our home. My husband and I choose not to drink at home because we are role models and never know when we will be needed)
Everyone helps keep the house in order and helps one another.
Anyone requesting anonymity will have that request granted if it means their safety.
Honesty
Kindness
Tolerance
No judging
Unconditional acceptance except when danger or safety is an issue.
Respect
A plan. Everyone who lives/stays here must have a plan on how to better their lives..once they are stable and able to do so.

I understand that the thought of this is completely exhausting for others. We have had people tell us we are crazy. We've had people tell us that it simply is unhealthy. We've heard concerns from people about how my husband and I maintain our relationship, how we budget, how we handle the stress, how we make everyone feel needed, how we have enough love and concern that no one gets left behind. People also ask how we keep people from taking advantage of us. If we offer ourselves..that means unconditionally. It's hard to take advantage of someone who is willingly giving their time, energy, and resources. We also don't believe in coddling someone to the point of being unable to care for themselves. It is a requirement in life unless you are sick either mentally or physically.

We feel blessed. We don't ever see it as a burden. Helping others is a blessing..something we feel we were born to do. Not everyone in life understands or knows their calling. We feel we do.

Lastly, we don't do it for praise or reciprocation. We do it because we can. The benefits from living like this happen naturally.

Taking your family for granted

I often joke about my family and the individual members that it includes. Mainly because I find it our interactions both humorous and memorable. In my last post, I joked about the lack of Christmas spirit among the younger members...little did I know that they would make this Christmas the most memorable I have ever had.

Brandon came to live with us last year. Today is actually the anniversary of his moving in. He showed up at our doorstep in the middle of the night. Little did we know that he would never leave. Many who know me on a more personal level know that Brandon has changed a LOT this year. He went from being shy, quiet, and sad to funny, outgoing, and hopeful. All that we have offered is love and encouragement and a home. He has blossomed and grown so much that when people interact with him now, they ask us what we did. The answer is simple, we did nothing but love and encourage...he was the one that opened his heart to accepting it.

This Christmas was the first time I got to witness him "paying it forward" in a way that was profound. 

We were all sitting around in a circle, opening presents. He stopped, looked at my daughter with tears in his eyes and said, "I just want you to know how proud I am of you. You've come so far this year. You've learned how to love yourself and that you deserve to be loved." We were so shocked by this outward showing of love that we all stopped dead in our tracks. I watched my daughter's face crumple up and saw tears just flowing from her eyes while she heaved heavy sobs. He reached over and hugged her close and in a little voice said, "I have too."

This moment was so beautiful that we couldn't do anything but just watch and cry. My heart felt so full that I thought it would burst. A young man who barely displayed emotions a year ago, was now displaying pride and love so openly. They held each other for a very long time..both of them crying.

After we gathered ourselves and moved on..it happened again. 

Clay is a young man that joined our family two weeks ago. He has a story all his own, but it seemed that fate sent him to us when he needed it most. On Christmas day he played Santa and handed out all of the gifts. Nearing the end of it all, he just stopped dead and started crying. My husband leaned toward him and asked what was wrong..to which Clay replied, "So this is what a real family is. This is how it's supposed to be. It's so beautiful. You all love each other so much and it shows."

Again, we were all brought to tears. 

I wanted to share this for a couple reasons. 

The first being this, I learned that it's easy to forget just how privileged we are to have one another. That our little family is so full of love and wonder. I need to remember this every day. Be thankful, every day. There are many who don't know what it's like to have a family that loves them. I pray that they make it into someone's life who can show them the beauty of it. 

Secondly, it only takes unconditional love and acceptance to turn a person's life around. All we need to do is make our lives about serving humankind. It truly is about giving without expectation. When we do that, the amount we receive back can't be measured. 

And lastly, to all of the kids that have come into our homes over the last few years. I love you all..I love you as much as if you were born to me. You are all amazing, talented, loving, and deserving people. You have helped raise me as much as I have raised you. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to love you.

The Joys of Aging

The first time I realized I was going to get old was my 25th birthday. I laugh when I think about it. It's not at all been how I imagined...aging isn't about getting closer to death. It's comical. It sneaks up on you. It gives you the one two punch when you least expect it. Here is a list of what to expect when you're nearing forty.

1. Move over natural hair color, make room for a bottle of dye. I remember a time when I could pull my hair back without looking like a bag of flour exploded all over my roots.
2. Knees that threaten to let you fall down flights of steps. OR, knees that make going up steps feel like you are giving birth. Some of it's because I'm fat...I will own that.
3. Peeing a little when you sneeze. Do NOT talk to me about kegals...just don't. If you think a girl hasn't done everything (besides medicine and surgery) to stop this, then you've clearly never peed a little from coughing, sneezing, or laughter.
4. Your child will remind you that you are getting old. Often. They will call you names like "old lady" and "silver back" and mumble "limp, limp, limp" when they are walking behind you.
5. You can no longer eat what you want without gaining weight. Seriously, if you eat a big mac..it shows up clearly on your thigh two hours later.
6. Indigestion. Laugh it up young people. Enjoy your pizza. If it's the color red, it's going to burn later.
7. Napping. Before the age of 35, I hated the thought of a nap. Now I'm like a cranky toddler some days. I look forward to them.
8. Your vision gets wonky. I didn't have to wear glasses full time until last year. I seriously did not know that it was abnormal to not see blades of grass. Do you have any idea what it's like to put glasses on and see things vividly for the first time? It's like walking into Willy Wonka's chocolate factory.
9. You become picky about what you sleep on. I remember sleep overs on the living room floor. I remember camping in a tent, with only a sleeping bag. Now, if I try to do it, I can't stand up straight for a couple hours and I walk around like Ebenezer Scrooge...and just as grumpy.
10. Your thighs fall down around your knees. My legs were always shapely and long. Until I hit 30..and everything started heading south.
11. Boobs: see number 10
12. You understand the importance of investing in shoes that don't come from Payless Shoe Store....a little too late.
13. You turn down the radio when you are trying to navigate. Sometimes you just drive in silence, sweet magical silence.
14. You are often the oldest person among a group of people. You will ask everyone their age...and you will shake your head, because you don't understand when you got old...you don't FEEL old. At least not emotionally.
15. You will see younger people making the same mistakes you did and you will keep your mouth shut. In your twenties you feel it's your duty to forewarn younger people of their decisions. By 37, you decide it's not worth your time trying to lead them..after all, you remember doing the same stupid stuff and feeling bullet proof.
16. You enjoy getting utilitarian gifts. Why? Because you hate shopping and it saves you the hassle. Also, you spend all your money on your kids. So a blender seems like a huge deal to you.
17. You and your spouse will realize that your relationship does not revolve around sex. Sure it's still fun and important...but so is sleep. I can hear you now, "this will NEVER be me!" You just wait. You will eat those words.. and you will wonder what the hell happened to you.
18. You forget the names of people you went to school with. You sometimes even forget the faces of people you went to school with. Hell, you forget the names of people you've met in the last ten years. You start finding crafty ways to get them to say their name so you don't feel like an idiot. "This is my husband, Kendrick." Then when they shake hands, the unknown name introduces themselves. I've done this many times.
19. The cold is no longer fun. I see younger people posting pictures of them in the snow with friends and their kids and I shiver. Seriously, so glad that my kids are grown and I don't have to do it anymore. Instead of spending money on snow boots, you buy a nice electric blanket..and hibernate as much as possible.
20. Your idea of a fun night no longer includes drinking and parties. You are old enough to know you have no dance skills (even if your husband says otherwise) and you have no desire to deal with hangovers. A glass of wine gives you the spins..more than one keeps you up with heartburn and constant trips to the bathroom all night.

To anyone under thirty that may be reading this..live it up. Your time is coming. It's also the greatest time of your life because you no longer sweat the small stuff.

Christmas Time on the Isle of Misfit Toys

You know your "open door" policy is effective when you pull out all the Christmas decorations and discover your stack of stockings has grown to about twenty. I learned my lesson last year about putting names on them. It seems every year there is a new "family" member added to the mix or one that no longer needs a home for the holidays.

Shopping for so many different people becomes a challenge. Not only do the adults in our house buy for the kids, but the kids always pick out presents for each other and the adults. Getting them to settle on a present for the adults is a miracle. You either end up with something completely random (but still cherish it) or they can't decide. When asking my son what he wanted to buy for Geezer, (yes this is what my kids call my dad...his choice!) I got a resounding, "something warm!" I'm not sure why they think he needs to be bundled up like an infant or he will die of hypothermia, but they do.

There is always this undercurrent of the kids talking to each other about what they got each other. No matter what you say or how you ask..they are going to do it. Conveniently, this year, they all wanted to buy each other Visa gift cards.....I'm SURE there was no planning behind closed doors. Snooping runs rampant, and I've had to take tips from the military's covert ops groups to keep their mitts off the presents. This year I announced that if any of the tape, paper, or any wrapping was disturbed..that I would be donating that present to charity. I also had to get smart about ordering things from their wish lists on Amazon. Stupid me didn't consider this last year. This year I took the time to copy and past the item and buy it without their knowledge.

My husband and I are both quite festive. We have our own traditions for holidays. They used to involve the kids. Now, getting them to sit through a holiday movie or craft is nothing short of a Christmas miracle. No one wants to decorate except for my husband and I. He and the cat are both allergic to trees..so this year we decided to have a fake tree. My son, who did NOT want to help decorate the tree, magically showed up after it was all said and done and said, "fake?!" Nothing about the sparkling, glittering beauty of it..just..fake. After his assessment, he walked away shaking his head.

My daughter has always been anti Santa. At three years old she came to me, concerned. Her exact words were, "I do NOT want a strange man coming into our house while we are asleep! YOU can buy presents, but that man is not allowed." Any attempt at derailing her opinion was thwarted. She was adamant about it. There was none of the childhood magic and mystery. No staying up late to try to hear the jingle of the sleigh bells. At least at that age she still enjoyed watching the classics and spending time together as a family..doing Christmas things. Last night she said she would watch 'Charlie Brown's Christmas' with us, then proceeded to put on her headphones.

Waking up teens on Christmas day is no longer acceptable. In fact, it's nothings short of disastrous. My daughter still hasn't let me live down waking her up at 6 am last year... one would think that I had asked her to get up and shovel snow rather than get up and open gifts.

I know what you are thinking, it's sad that my kids lack holiday spirit. And, I would agree to some extent. But I think there comes a time when your kids grow up and the parents revert back to being giddy children. And I am OK with that.

Procrastination

I've been a procrastinator since the moment I was conceived. I feel I can say that since I was a long overdue baby.

As a child, I would put off doing chores until I would get spanked. I would put off bathing so I could play. If I had songs to sing at church, I would put off learning the words until the night before and then cram them in my juvenile noggin. Same with high school. Essays and reports were always done the day before or the day they were due.

You would think that as an adult, I would stop torturing myself and get things done in a timely manner so that I don't have to worry about it at some point every day until the dead line.

I also married a procrastinator. The two of us together are a force to be reckoned with. He's more gracious than I am. If I wait till the last moment, he sweetly goes about his business or picks up the slack without a word. If he procrastinates and it makes me have to rush, I'm quick to point out how much easier our life would be if HE would quit procrastinating.

I think today may have been a lesson for both of us. This year for Christmas, our family decided that we would all exchange homemade gifts. Clearly, this was a bonus for us because we both love art and creating things! Except....we put it off for a month and realized that we were going to have to bust our butts to finish everything.

Today was spent feeling like we were in the slave labor trade. We were up to our eyeballs in clay and tools. At one point, Kendrick accidentally moved a piece he was working on and it shifted. The look on his face was one of sheer insanity. He snapped a little bit. And by a little, I mean he started swearing and got up from the table looking like he was trying to find something to kick. I had to talk him back from the ledge by assuring him I could fix it, just as soon as I was done completing the million things in front of me. He put his head in his hands and just sat there. No one was hurt, but I'm pretty sure I could hear his heart beating from across the table.

We put on Christmas music to give us some cheerful background noise and distract us from the tasks we were working on. For some reason, Pandora Radio decided that they needed to play every Mariah Carey Christmas song that she's done.....repeatedly. Her range of vocals is impressive, but when she started sounding like a dolphin, it made me think about hurting someone. I realized I was at my breaking point after the fifth time it had come on. I looked at Kendrick and said, "If I have to listen to anymore of this, I'm going to flip the table and cancel Christmas." His snappy retort was, "well I can't sit here in silence!" At this point, we knew we were both getting a little punchy and the situation was becoming dire. We decided on a Christmas movie and got back to work.

Our nimble little hands were sore. Our backs hurt from sitting at the table. I feared I would get a blood clot in my leg from the sheer amount of time we were sitting and kept getting up to shake it off. My hair looked like an afro from the amount of times I had run my hands through it in frustration. Kendrick's eyes were bloodshot and shifty.

Twenty six hours later, (no lie, it was literally that long. Give or take a few minutes) we peeled our achy, cracking bones up from the table and high fived each other. I think I felt a rib break, Kendrick coughed like he had consumption... but we were done. We.were.done.

We would have celebrated it, but neither of us could get out much more than a few curse words and groans.

There is a lesson to be learned here, but I think I will wait till later to figure it out.

Rebirth

Imagine spending your whole life feeling disassociated from your body. Looking in the mirror is confusing because the way you imagine yourself does not align with what you really see in the mirror. Hearing your voice on a recording makes you cringe because your internal voice is much different.

Imagine that putting on clothing was painful, that it made you angry and sad.

Imagine feeling as though you want to end your life because the feeling of hatred towards your physical self is so strong that it's emotionally chipping away at your want to exist.

Imagine fearing seeing yourself naked. That every time you got dressed or undressed, it made you cry.

Imagine being born with a name that you are so disassociated from that when others call it, you don't hear it.

Imagine fearing you will lose everyone in your life that you love if you tell them that you are going through this.

Imagine seeing the sexual organs that you were born with and considering mutilating yourself to change them or because you hate them so much.

Imagine feeling like you are going insane. That you are trapped in a body and mind that plays tricks on you at every turn. You feel that your own thoughts will cause you to take your life or make you incapable of living a happy and fulfilling life.

Imagine feeling unworthy of love or respect, because you are different.

Think about those things for a few minutes, the depth of the words I wrote.

I have had the pleasure of getting to know several people who are transgender. Although their appearance is always unique to the individual, their stories all share the common bonds that I mentioned above.

 Before the realization that they have been born into the wrong body takes hold, these are their struggles. These thoughts start at a young age, before a child has learned how to cope and how to seek help for their thoughts and feelings. These feelings only intensify as a child grows, as puberty sets in and their bodies change. As they grow, the self hatred grows as well. Until it becomes all encompassing. Menial tasks, school, relationships, grooming, communicating...all become so difficult, that they literally start to shut down both emotionally and physically.

There are two words that begin to be a running theme in their minds. Hate and confusion. Those two words are turned inward. They are able to see the beauty in everyone else but themselves. They are intelligent people, yet the confusion that they feel is so rampant that it becomes a prison.

Now, imagine if you will, that you have an epiphany. That you FINALLY understand why, you finally have a name to the evil that has plagued you all of your life. Yet, that knowing sometimes gets you nowhere because you are afraid of losing the people that you love. You are afraid of being hurt or murdered because you are "different" from what society deems normal. You are afraid that no one could ever love and accept you or want to touch you because who you are makes people treat you like you have a disease. And when people aren't treating you like you will make them sick, they are studying you and deconstructing you as to figure you out.

This is the very real situation that many people who are transgender are facing. They are waiting for their "rebirth". They want to live the truth that has been spoken to them. Yet they feel trapped. They can see the key to unlocking the chains that bind them, yet it's just out of reach.

Sometimes, they just need someone's hand to hold to show them they are not alone, that they will be protected. Sometimes, they need someone's hand to take the key and unlock it. Sometimes, they need to hear, "you are safe, you are loved, you are allowed to be yourself, and you deserve to live."

Your hands, your heart, and your kindness are not meant to be used for only you...please remember that you have the ability to change a person's life...simply by offering yourself to them.


The sculpture shown above was created by Dylan Guest. All credit goes to him for the artwork.

I sleep with a furnace

After my uterus was ripped from my body, (I'm so technical) I was thrown into an early menopause. Not the kind of menopause that slowly sneaks up on you as you get older. The kind that hits you like a freight train full of angst, mood swings, crying jags, and hot flashes.

If you've ever had hot flashes, you know that they can be compared to standing in a fire so hot that the devil himself appears and stands there laughing while he pokes at you with his pitchfork. You feel like a sausage, roasting over an open flame. You heat up from the inside out and no amount of cool air can bring the temperature down. To call them flashes is just wrong. They don't go away in a flash. Rather, you feel like it will never end. That you will explode from the heat and shower whoever is around you with your internal organs. In fact, sometimes they are so bad..you hope for it.

One of the other great things that happens is that after you've had a hot flash, you are dripping with sweat..and your body goes into cool down mode so fast that you suddenly get hypothermic. You know you are in the presence of a perimenopausal or menopausal woman when you see her go from ripping her clothes off to putting on every article of clothing she owns. Also, we all have that same look in our eyes..the one that says, "I hate you...I love you...I'm unsure what I feel. Help! I'm losing my shit!" She's also the one with the air conditioning on in the winter.

On my side of the bed, I have an AC unit in the window and a fan standing directly in front of it. This may seem like overkill, but believe me..there are times that even that is not enough. My situation is only worsened by the fact that my husband seems to heat up while he sleeps, and not in a cozy and cuddly sort of way.

Some of you are going to think I am crazy for thinking that having separate beds might be a lovely thing. Don't get me wrong. I love that Kendrick is so sweet and affectionate. A lot of women would love that..and I do, when I'm not in the midst of dying from heat stroke. The problem is that they come on so fast, that I can go from feeling cozy to why the hell are we even sharing a room, in the blink of an eye.

Kendrick sleeps like he is dead. So, in short, he's an overheated corpse who likes to cuddle. He has slept through incidents where I have put both of my feet against him and pushed him away from me, only to roll back over and try to hold me. He's pinned me down at the neck with his arm while I wheeze at him to please let me live. And just as soon as the hot flash passes and I start to feel like I am sleeping in an igloo, he rolls over and takes the blankets with him.

People who sleep heavy do not believe that they behave the way they do. I've taken to recording his sleep conversations and waking him up to PROVE that he is indeed the culprit to the "blanket situation". If you share a bed with someone..you know of the blanket situation. It's been known to make relationships crumble because it's an issue that no one will admit to being the cause of.

Just recently, Kendrick and I stumbled across this:

We saw it and looked at each other with understanding. This could be the answer to our problem. Sure it seems extreme that I'm thinking about buying him one and sewing the arms to the side so that he can't propel himself on to me in his sleep.....but aren't relationships about compromise???

Inquisitive Minds and Transgender Topics

We all know that I am pretty much an open book. So much so that I can make people really uncomfortable without even trying. I've seen and experienced a lot in my lifetime and it's made me very open minded and aware of the good and bad in the world. It's not shocking to me that people come to me with lots of questions about my daughter who is....gasp....

TRANSGENDER (disclaimer: I asked her permission to write about this)

Some have been very open minded about it, some have done everything they can to learn what this means and how to respond appropriately. Then there are some who just can't be bothered to take the time to understand it better. These are the people that often do things that leave my mouth hanging open in shock or sucking air through my teeth in anger. I try to be patient, always.. but let's face it, some people can't contain themselves. They think what they have to say or ask is more important than considering feelings or etiquette. Here are some of the "fun" situations and questions my family has experienced.

Is she going to/has she had "the surgery"?? (I was asked this question among a group of complete strangers at a birthday party...loudly, and too many other times to count)

 Let's get this right out there..not everyone who is transgender wants or can have surgeries. That's right, plural. There is not a singular surgery that can reassign sexual organs or change the physical appearance to suit the person. The cost is monumental, the stress on the body is monumental, the psychological toll can be monumental. Sex organs do NOT equal gender. Yes, some people feel a very strong need to change their physical body..and that is ok. Other's do not. Gender is what your brain tells you. It is not a penis or a vagina.

Remember when Aria was (former birth name)? 

I can't and won't write that name. Her name is Aria. Do I remember Aria's childhood? Oh my, yes!!! Some of the best memories of my life!! She's not the Artist Formerly Known As Prince! She is Aria..let's keep it simple folks. If a person changes their name, there is a damn good reason for it. You should respect that without question. I changed my maiden name when I got married.. interestingly enough, no one ever says, "remember when you were Terralyn Austin?"

Wait, so that means that she's gay or lesbian? I'm so confused! What IS she?

She's Aria! Why does sexual orientation change who she is? Guess what folks, you can be transgender AND be straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, asexual, and all of the other TONS of orientations there are. You are not limited by your gender. Remember..two very different things. Sexual orientation is NOT gender. Your sexual orientation does not define you..If your name is Sue and you happen to be a lesbian. I'm just going to call you "Sue"... not, the lesbian. 

She's wearing sweat pants. Doesn't that mean she isn't really a girl? 

Last time I checked, lots of women wear sweat pants and other clothing that isn't super feminine. Let me get this straight, because she is transgender she must always wear a dress, heels, and makeup?? If she or anyone else wants to dress like that..it's perfectly fine. But if she or you don't..guess what..it's perfectly fine. Clothes do not define gender. That's a stupid thing that society has done. I'm no more a woman if I wear a tuxedo than a dress. Cause my brain still tells me what gender I am despite what I am wearing.

Are you sure it isn't a phase?

Ohhhhhh, I see...a phase that has lasted her entire life. Yes, a 2 year old that tells me she wishes she was a girl or hides a dress under her clothes in school is surely going through a phase. A 17 year phase. People who are transgender don't take this lightly. Would you choose to live a life of being picked on, set apart, and have virtually no rights that the rest of the world has??? Think about this one for a moment. Lots of people question things in their lifetime. It's normal. But KNOWING you were labeled the wrong gender is not a phase. It's an intuitive, innate feeling that can't be questioned. One may try to ignore it, but it's always there.

It's only fair that she outs herself to people. Everyone has the right to know.

No they don't. Unless she chooses to share that information or has given permission for someone to share that information..no one needs to know. Also, no one has the right to do that to anyone. She is a woman, her brain and heart tell her she is a woman..so she is. Furthermore, she was born a female. Just because the sex organs didn't align does not negate that. 

How do I treat her?

How do you want to be treated???? With respect, love, honesty, caring, and all those other wonderful ways that humans should treat humans..without question. Being a person who is transgender does not make you special. It is not a disability that requires special attention or care. She is perfectly healthy. 

It's ok if I forget to use the correct pronouns..we all make mistakes.

Accidents happen when a person first comes to the understanding that they are transgender. It can be difficult for everyone in their life to remember to use the correct pronoun. That does not mean it is OK to do so repeatedly, or to ignore it. If it happens, you apologize and you do your best to practice the right pronoun so that it becomes habit. OR, you stop using he, she, her, him. Some people have no preferred pronoun. The best way to go about this is to ask in private what their preferred pronoun is, or make it a habit to try not to use them at all. I know this sounds crazy. We are so ingrained to use pronouns that are gender based. Give it a thought...it's not too hard to change your vernacular. Also, once a person has established a pronoun preference, you use it when talking about the past, present, and future. 

Here is what's ok. It's ok to ask questions in private only if you ask yourself, "would I ask anyone else these questions?" Would you ask someone about there sex organs? Would you ask someone if they plan on having breast augmentation or plastic surgery? Are those questions essential to my relationship with this person?

 My daughter is my daughter. She is Aria. She is all the wonderful parts that make up Aria. This holds true for every human being on Earth. They are who they are..gender is a tiny part of them. So let's all stop making it a huge issue. The sooner we do that, the sooner it will be easier for the world to accept it without prejudice. 

I Was a Bully

The last two years of my life have been some of the hardest for me. There are few things worse as a parent than seeing your child getting ridiculed, made fun of, threatened..in short, bullied. The feelings of anger and helplessness are so overwhelming that it shakes you to your core. 

In my case, I also turned my awareness..inward. 

I'm a firm believer that there is always something to be gained from negative experiences. Some things are so hard, and our initial reaction is to kick like a mule to get the negative thing away from us. In the anger and frustration of those moments, we lose our ability to grow. We shut down our hearts and our brains and run away. Would it be great if we could learn from the positive only? Yes!! But, that's not how life works. My biggest moments of personal growth have been because of the hard stuff. 

Sometimes the hard stuff is learning that you have wronged someone. Sometimes you realize that the enemy you have been fighting, also lives in you. 

Coming to the understanding that you are a bully is nothing short of heart wrenching. How did I get this way? Why am I behaving this way? Why did I hurt someone that I love so much? HOW can I make this better?!

Several years ago, I was making jokes at another person's expense. I would drive down the road and immediately say mean things about people. I saw with my eyes instead of my heart. I figured as long as I wasn't saying mean things directly to a person, that it was OK. Until I got caught. 

The person who called my on my behavior is someone who I love. Not only did I hurt her, but I put our relationship at risk..a relationship I had been part of for twenty something years. This was one of the biggest wake up calls of my life. At what point in my life did I become such a mean person? Sure, in public I seemed caring, giving, thoughtful...but behind closed doors, I was mean. 

Getting a laugh out of people was more important than protecting someone's feelings.

I was judgmental.

My first thought was to judge someone's appearance.

It was easier for me to say something negative than it was to say something positive.

My negative thoughts came automatically..this was a scary one. 

I disliked myself in ways that I wasn't aware of.

My childhood was resurfacing and I was perpetuating the cycle of negativity that I grew up with.

I am human. Being human means I am prone to mistakes. Being human also means that I can choose to learn from those mistakes. 

After mending (as best as I possibly could) the relationship that I had hurt..I set out to change myself. It started with a challenge that I thought would be easy and turned out to be hard. It also made me realize just what a jerk I had become. The challenge was this: Every time a negative comment came out of my mouth, I immediately retracted it and said something positive. Then I took it to the next level: Every time a negative THOUGHT happened, I verbally said something positive. 

After getting that under control, I started looking at why I was even prone to such negativity in the first place. I could blame my childhood, because truly, it was full of negativity. But I knew that doing so was a cop out. The reality was that I was unhappy with myself. I was passive aggressive. I was taking control in unhealthy ways because it was still control. Kind of like a child seeking attention in negative ways, because it's still attention. I was being a child.

I decided to write this blog because I believe in full disclosure. I am an advocate in many regards. I fight bullying at home and in society...openly..proudly..and with a passion so deep that it motivates me every day. I was once a bully. I am not anymore. We can change our most ingrained patterns and habits to become a better person. 

Here's my question to you. Are you a bully? You may be surprised at the answer. 

Survival Guide to Raising Teens

The title to this post was a trick to lure you in, doesn't every parent want to know the way to survive your child's teen years? Here's the thing..I don't have the answer. You just do it.....barely, and with lots of humor. Because if you can't laugh at your dilemma, you are going to crash and burn.

My daughter and I have a very candid, honest, and open relationship. There have been days that have been so insanely crazy that I thought I would lose my mind. I've literally said, "you are going to kill me before you reach adulthood." You may think that sounds harsh. If you do, I'm guessing you've never had teens, or your children aren't yet teens, or you are on some mind numbing medication that makes you not care about anything, OR, you gave birth to a saint. If the latter is the case, just quit reading. (cause you are delusional about your child. )

So, while I can't tell you how to survive this stage in life...I can give you some insight as to what to expect and how I've dealt with it.

1. There will be periods of wonderful happiness quickly followed by a brief period of anger and sadness. I don't care if you've won the mother/father/caretaker of the year award. This WILL happen. It's a wonderful thing called hormones. I've literally heard, "you are the best mom ever" only to hear a slamming door an hour later. This is similar to eating five foot long hot dogs and then going on a roller coaster that doesn't stop for several years.
How I handle it: Remind myself that if women can become temporarily insane from pms or having a child, that I am no match for hormones. I just wait it out until the moment passes and then either address the situation or let it go completely. We all need breathing room, your child is no exception. If feelings are hurt, then say so and move on. (and prepare to have this conversation at least a hundred more times) Also, bask in the joy of the good moments. Seriously. Don't resent your teen for things that are past.

2. The kid that used to bring home straight A's and was labelled a genius will suddenly stop giving a shit about their grades.
How I handle it: I don't expect straight A's. If my daughter gets an awesome grade, I praise her. If she get's an average grade, I praise her. If she gets a failing grade...well then..I send her to the gypsies. No really, there are consequences, but I've learned to choose my battles. I remember how hard it was to deal with all of the shit that being in high school brings. Heartache, socializing, peer pressure, bullying, and again..those wonderful emotions that are so hard to handle. Cut your kid some slack or they are going to snap.

3. When your child is a freshman, they will be overly concerned about their appearance. They will want stylish clothes, showers last an hour, they do their hair and makeup. When your child is a senior, they will want to wear the same outfit at least five out of seven days. They will roll out of bed ten minutes before you have to leave and come downstairs looking like they were on a week long drinking binge.
How I handle it: Insist on clean clothes and body. The rest is optional. Do YOU do your hair and makeup every single day? I rest my case.

4. In the span of your child's high school career (it really is a job), they will have as many hairstyles and fashion changes as there are flavors of ice cream. Remember those cute school photos that you showed off? They are a thing of the past. Not only because they ALWAYS happen on a day when your teen wakes up pissed off at the world, but because no one is allowed to take their picture unless they have signed a contract and sealed it in blood.
How I handle it: Dye, cut, and style your hair however the heck you want. Dress however you want as long as it's not offensive and are meeting the dress code. Body modification, wait till you are a consenting adult.
As far as school pictures go..well..have you seen the prices of them?! I consider it a financial favor that my daughter won't have them done. I save all the selfies she takes and consider it good. I also allow her to use my camera as much as she wants, because it means I will have those pictures to hang on to. She's much more creative than the cookie cutter school photo shoots.

5. Your teen will become dramatic enough to win an award that actors and actresses covet. There are no boring stories in a teen's life. (except school) They will exaggerate. They will sometimes think things are harder, funnier, scarier, and sadder than they really are. If you ask how their day was, you will get the answer, "ehh..ok." BUT, if THEY come to you and offer information about their day, you better believe it was the best, worst, craziest day in the history of time.
How I handle it: Is my teen approaching me to talk??? Holy shit, yes, I am listening. Be thankful for the fact that your child wants to share something with you! Laugh, cry, be angry with them.

6. You will see your child seething with anger. They will slam things, give terse responses, ignore you, walk away, roll their eyes. You will ask, "what's wrong??" The answer will be, "Nothing WAS wrong until you kept asking me what was wrong!"
How I handle it: Stop asking what the hell is wrong with them. Let them know you are there and available. If you are inclined to ask once, then tread lightly and be ready for the pissed off reaction. Don't ever ask more than once. Doing so is like pulling the pin out of a grenade and will result in impending doom.

7. Remember that chaste child who thought that kissing was gross? They are gonna have sex. They are going to make out with someone like it's an Olympic sport...and it will go further than that.
How I handle it: I pass out condoms like they are tic tacs. I talk about std's and disease and pregnancy and all the "not so beautiful" things that can also happen when you are sexually active. If you think your teen isn't convinced of the need for protection, google some images of what your genitals look like with certain infections and diseases, you'll only need to do this once. Offer to babysit some infants and make sure you insist on your teen helping you out. It's usually enough to take the cuteness factor right out of parenthood.

I've rambled on and on. In conclusion...calm down! Don't be too serious! Laugh when you can, cry when you need to. Get mad and get over it. Things may be hard, but they are hard for your teen too. It always helps to remember that.

Also, I'm probably going to continue with a part two at some point. I didn't realize how much I had to say about this topic. Bear with me.

The Great Hair Debate

If you've ever had short hair, you know what a downright pain in the ass it is to keep it looking good. Especially if it's curly. Going to a salon is just a whole lot of stress for me. Not because I'm scared of scissors or a bad haircut. (I've had plenty of them.) But because it means small talk. I'm great at long conversations, intimate conversations, angry/sad/emotional conversations. I'm NOT good at small talk. I don't want to talk about the weather, or the holidays, or whatever other topic may be hot that day. Quite frankly, I'd do much better if the person cutting my hair, fell apart and started telling me a horrible life story and cried on my shoulder. I'm equipped to deal with that. The weather, not so much.

So, I avoid it. I put it off every single time until I start looking like a pubescent Justin Bieber. Ya know, before he ruined his reputation. Except the curls start to come in and instead of being cute, I look like a frightened clown who just got electrocuted. Curly hair does this thing before getting longer..it gets bigger.

It's about this stage of growth that I start considering letting it grow out again. I've had hair nearly down to my butt (well lack of butt) at least 4 times now. Then for some insane reason, I cut it all off. I don't even go in stages. I just decide one day to have it hacked off. If you've never seen a hairdresser have a heart attack, grow your hair out two feet and then ask them to cut it off. After gasping and shaking, they always ask about fifty times if I am sure. I always have to console and reassure them afterwards. One would think that they were asked to kill a family member...it's a really emotional event..for them, not me. I'm just hoping they will be quick so I can get the heck out of there.

So here I am, frizzy headed, curly, looking unkempt...and I'm debating growing it out yet again.

This involves a level of dedication akin to losing weight. In your mind, you can see the end result. Of course, you look hot and beautiful. Long flowing curls of hair just screaming sexiness. But the getting there is a process that can test even the strongest of people. It involves things like head bands and barrettes. It most definitely means I am going to look like a fool for several months until it stops getting bigger. And it means hats. Because, let's face it.. I am NOT the type to spend time styling it. It also means avoiding the public eye for a while (I'm famous ya know!) because even though I am not overly concerned about appearances, I look like a freaking tool.

The debate has begun. We shall see how far it gets before I cave and get it cut, or resign myself to a year of bad hair days. If you see me out and about, let's just maintain eye contact and not talk about my hair. It's best for the both of us.

Also, please don't ask me about the weather.

My Psychiatrist Doesn't Listen To Me

After my hysterectomy, I started having some serious issues with anxiety. Originally it was due to my hormones being so screwed up...but if you've ever had a panic attack, you know that after one or two..it just spirals out of control. After a trip to the hospital, convinced I was dying of a heart attack..I decided I needed help. So I sought out a psychiatrist.
My first visit with him made me feel hopeful. I don't know why. He certainly didn't say much, just acknowledged my feelings and at the time, it was enough to calm me down.

I should have paid attention to the subtleties of our interactions. I should have taken into consideration that every visit I had with him, he started to doze off while I was talking. I mean, he literally has fallen asleep and fallen forward towards his desk and I've sat there patiently waiting for him to wake up. But I chalked it up to the fact that he was in his 70's and probably overworked. I should have realized that I was repeating myself over and over again every time I saw him. But I assumed he was just trying to see if I was being truthful and maintaining the same story. I should have known that he wasn't really invested in me when he would answer his cell phone several times during our meetings. But, family is important...right??

This man has a presence all his own. He is roughly 4' 6". He hails from Pakistan and has a very thick accent which is only exacerbated by the fact that he speaks softly. Like everything he is saying is a secret. I didn't realize how small he was until one day he got out of his chair behind his formidable desk and walked across the room. There in his chair were four cushions stacked up high. When he got down..his desk came up to his chest. Nothing against people of short stature, but if you hide it..and I suddenly find out..I'm probably going to gasp a little bit.

At any rate, I couldn't be bothered to find a new doctor. He WAS nice after all. Just....a bit....unattached. Over time, I have been asked the same questions hundreds of times. My last visit had the same dialogue, but I thought I would mix it up a little.

Doc: So, how are you doing?
Me: I'm ok, the lack of sunlight is starting to really bother me..it happens every year. I thought I might try.....
Doc: (interrupting me) So what are you doing to keep yourself busy?
Me: Well, I've got band, I run a supp-
Doc: (interrupting me again) How is your family?
Me: They are good. My daughter got accepted into col-
Doc: (interrupting again) do you think the medication is working for you?
Furious scribbling on his pad of paper
Me: Ummm, yeah. I mean, I'm not hav-
Doc: (interrupting again) So how was your Thanksgiving?

And this is where I took it to a new level. I decided to see just how much he was actually paying attention.

Me: It was good, we had the family over. We ate a lot. We played games.............reindeer games. Like in Rudolph. It was fun!
Doc: (completely did NOT hear me talk like a crazy person about Rudolph and playing reindeer games) Ok, well I will see you next month.
Me: OK, doc.

That's not a cankle, it's just my socks.

I used to be barefoot, always. Unless I had to leave the house in snow..then I would grudgingly put socks and shoes on. I never thought there would come a day when I would become a sock connoisseur.

Most of you that know me, know that I developed a condition called reflexive sympathetic dystrophy in my right foot and ankle after having major surgery. I refuse to give that name upper case letters, because quite frankly, it doesn't deserve it! At any rate, one of the ongoing issues I have had is a dead cold foot. I'm not kidding when I say "dead". Sometimes it looks like I have the foot of a corpse. It's blue or purple, bloated, and ice cold. (Try to refrain from getting turned on) So needless to say, unless it is summer, (and even sometimes then) barefoot isn't an option. In fact, most times, one pair of socks is not an option. I've been known to stack 4 socks on this thing I call a foot.

This has made me a bit of a sock hoarder. Every year for Christmas, I sweetly ask Santa (Kendrick) for socks...lots and lots of socks. "Santa" always replies with, "can't you come up with a better idea? I ALWAYS give you socks!" The problem here, is that Santa is not always choosy enough with his socks and they are unwearable. For example, socks that are as thin as those nasty wafers we used to eat for communion... It takes roughly 5 of them to equal one good sock. Socks that have threading on the inside make my foot feel like there are snakes slithering around on them. Socks that are tight around the band hurt to pull over my foot and make me whine. Socks that are too big slide around and make me insane. And let's not forget about the "one size fits most" knee socks. Those suckers make my calves look like large sausages stuffed in casings that will inevitably roll down within a few minutes. I sometimes feel like I am bridezilla on the hunt for the perfect wedding dress..except in my case it's socks. I've been known to drool over a pair of socks that cost more than it takes to feed a family for a week. The internal battle is strong, and it takes an act of sheer courage to walk away from socks like that.

Apart from the amount of socks I've amassed, I look like an eccentric weirdo. Matching socks are a thing of the past. Right now, this very instant, I am wearing a thick pair of black and white slipper socks on both feet, and then a purple striped sock PLUS a red, white, and black argyle sock on the right foot. I look like a character that got turned down for a Tim Burton role. I always try to plan ahead for situations where I will have to take my shoes off. Have you any idea how hard it is to color coordinate 4 pairs of socks to an outfit???

Long ago I heard a term called "cankles". It's used to describe a leg that has no differentiation between the calf and the ankle. See: Exhibit B.

That, my dear friends..is a cankle. I used to admire my legs. I had slender ankles and fairly nice legs. I now......have a cankle. If not from days where my ankle swells up like someone has injected it with enough filler to put Goldie Hawn's lips to shame, then from the sock layers. It's not attractive. Sometimes I like to humor myself and talk lovingly to my good foot for being so pretty and shapely. I'm hoping the praise will keep it motivated to stay slender. 

I ask this of you. If you invite me over and I take my shoes off. Please understand that I am not crazy (well maybe a bit) and I did not jump into a laundry pile and choose random socks. That it is an orchestrated, thought out thing.

Also, if you see me snooping through your sock drawers..no worries. I'm not looking for sex toys, I'm looking at your sock collection. 

Hello Nighttime, My Old Friend

There's this thing called the moon. Usually it signifies nighttime. The time when most people sleep.

For some reason, my faulty brain just refuses to accept this natural occurrence. I don't exactly remember when this problem started..only that it's been years since I last slept like a normal person. I've tried everything imaginable, including sleep deprivation (which just made me act like a grumpy toddler who needed a nap) to get back to a regular pattern. I even tried Ambien once, and only once. I popped that little pill with hopes that it was going to work miracles. Really, it just ended up being a scary trip of hallucination somewhere between reality and dreams. I couldn't move my body enough to shake my husband awake to tell him that I was having dinner with the Mad Hatter in Wonderland and that he just asked me if I brought my pet crocodile along to join us. Just after smelling colors, I snapped out of it.

Some people wonder what I do all night. So I thought I would make a list of some things I've done to pass the time.
1. Lay in bed for hours trying meditation and breathing to trick myself into sleepiness.
2. Read...a lot.
3. Browse Facebook until I want to peel my eyelids off from boredom.
4. Get sucked into the black hole that is youtube. Somehow one video leads to another and another and another, and before you realize it, you are watching a man blend everyday objects in a blender like it's the most interesting thing you've ever laid eyes on.
5. I have conversations with my husband who not only talks in his sleep, but carries on wonderful conversations that he doesn't remember.
6. I record said conversations and freak him out by playing them back the next day.
7. I toss and turn roughly one million times before finally getting up and giving up.
8. I work on learning foreign languages. The current one is Japanese. (which leads me back to youtube)
9. I sit downstairs and freak out that every sound is a murderer who is coming to kill me.
10. I think about writing a book, start writing, then give up writing. I've done this several times now.
11. I whine about not being able to sleep, a lot. Kendrick's response to this is usually to grab me all sweetly and then fall asleep. Essentially pinning me down so that I have to pull off some ninja moves to get out of the choke hold he has unknowingly put me in.

There you have it, not only did I (hopefully) entertain you for a few minutes. I've also given you some good tips on what to do when you can't sleep. Guess that means I should add "teaching" to my list.

I think I hear a murderer....got to go!