tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17349013929829781392024-03-05T03:43:17.435-06:00In the KaleidoscopeLife and love, and everything inbetween.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.comBlogger177125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-46883090077637762322015-05-13T06:01:00.002-05:002015-05-13T06:04:37.933-05:00Yup I'm HereSo I've been here for a couple of weeks now. Korea. There's a lot to write about and I'm not sure I can express everything tonight. So I'll talk about what's weighing heavily on my heart right now. I guess I'll start with a disclaimer:<br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-size: large;">The people are nice here.</span><br />
<b><span style="color: #a64d79;">Everyone has been so welcoming and I've been invited to outings and sports and things like that. I haven't met a rude person yet.</span></b><br />
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Now onto the heavy part. I AM SO RESTLESS. I'm full of angst. I have so much free time that I can hardly stand it. So I got busy. I filled my schedule with so many things to do. But there's an empty feeling inside me and it's itching at me. It's probably homesickness and kid-missing. Yeah, that's probably it.<br />
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So what do I do about this? I don't handle boredom well. So I signed up for a couple of college classes and am awaiting the start date. I'm finally really getting my hands dirty in the book I'm writing. I'm actually feeling it and dissecting it and re-entering the world I've created. So that should keep me busy. Plus, I've been doing my daily bible reading and prayers.<br />
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But like a dang teething puppy, once I'm done with one thing I'm eagerly awaiting the next chew toy. So I guess my challenge is this: Patience. Sigh. Patience.<br />
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Keep me in your prayers, please. I need some help here.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-8525281029831368302015-04-03T00:47:00.001-05:002015-04-03T00:47:33.517-05:00Awwww<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I love my life.</div>
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I thank God for everything He's given me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe-S3S_uzYNWTw2IQEcsGyZfCGex-GyqS72pp9tMHBOOf3PzF9LN8uRBXbCx3ilclt6VTR0rpLBqmU4m3SPeZjbcmQ5tmhtgD2_jwXw8ogXneNwhFVIGE_Ld-TxKWgdqqGvfNOlyGRXzge/s1600/IMG_4808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe-S3S_uzYNWTw2IQEcsGyZfCGex-GyqS72pp9tMHBOOf3PzF9LN8uRBXbCx3ilclt6VTR0rpLBqmU4m3SPeZjbcmQ5tmhtgD2_jwXw8ogXneNwhFVIGE_Ld-TxKWgdqqGvfNOlyGRXzge/s1600/IMG_4808.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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I love my goofball kids.</div>
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... even if they make Walmart trips longer than they should be.</div>
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My dog is goofy too.</div>
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But I love him just the same.</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-51891426523222694912015-03-28T10:31:00.001-05:002015-03-28T10:31:13.093-05:00NCO Academy Grad!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I've spent the last 6 weeks in the Noncommisioned Officer Academy (NCOA). <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I admit that NCOA was not what I was expecting. I thought it was going to be a cheesy, unrealistic let's-play-leader course. Instead, </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I've been studying ethical leadership, joint warfighting, professional development, negotiating, and many many more lessons! I've given briefings on religious freedom and strategic initiatives. I've made friends. I feel as if I've grown in just a month and a half. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">The days were jam packed with lessons, we were drinking from a fire hose. The nights were ridiculously late with homework. We had briefings and papers due each week. We slept 3-5 hrs a night. Weekends were blessings!! I slept on the weekends. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Caden had a dental issue during the week of my first test (gum swelling from slamming into another kid during rough playing). Instead of reviewing the night before the test, I was up all night helping him cope with pain. I failed that first test. That weekend, he got some antibiotics and I had my nose in my giant book for hours each day. I rocked the final test. I scored 10 pts above the average student. Thank you, God. </font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Bruce was my audience during briefing practice. He'd stare at me in confusion as I gave him 3-5 minute briefings on religious freedom and strategic initiatives. If it wasn't for the wine, I'd have been laughing the whole time. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">My class graduated yesterday. It was a great day. My boss and two of my subordinates came to attend the ceremony. I was so proud! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Now on to the next Air Force milestone: Korea. </div><br></font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1yZ_jJwGSvvp5Gz745GivjP7bOnOTK6j2urbSTRNleJToolp1q1T1bhtthfcjnGT_LyGiRiOW3OFJ38jdhASHh-GFUNbSljlfryTGI3uVjOiCQ_g_dVsSXE3rFLFlVXyi8Oe_FYQiOtci/s640/blogger-image--1774478902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1yZ_jJwGSvvp5Gz745GivjP7bOnOTK6j2urbSTRNleJToolp1q1T1bhtthfcjnGT_LyGiRiOW3OFJ38jdhASHh-GFUNbSljlfryTGI3uVjOiCQ_g_dVsSXE3rFLFlVXyi8Oe_FYQiOtci/s640/blogger-image--1774478902.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-53071976554526978672015-02-02T22:31:00.000-06:002015-02-02T22:31:47.543-06:00WhewI've been really stressed lately. Preparing to start my leadership school AND the PCS is exhausting. Watching the troops move on without me is bittersweet. Trying to enjoy as much of my life as I can is incredibly challenging. The time is passing faster than I can keep up. And I'm just so tired.<br />
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I have been so relieved to hit the bed lately.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-2644524369754768632014-12-11T21:32:00.003-06:002014-12-11T21:32:50.735-06:00Korea Prep 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hYID2td5dRJocbp2ohNNOBt1EteSX7mcN8kw8XTf34QWKf2OMJZxRqQGW9s6BcAL0Ppf1QIQATIHRsQMd1wLDL1aXRgJOMXFvet6yemBc_UEWF6cL4gXq689IgbZ9mscRLsQ6bJatQHg/s1600/boys+walking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hYID2td5dRJocbp2ohNNOBt1EteSX7mcN8kw8XTf34QWKf2OMJZxRqQGW9s6BcAL0Ppf1QIQATIHRsQMd1wLDL1aXRgJOMXFvet6yemBc_UEWF6cL4gXq689IgbZ9mscRLsQ6bJatQHg/s1600/boys+walking.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
My neighbor was kind enough to hook me up with an old friend of his who is stationed in Korea. It was really nice being able to have another single mom connect with me about her experience. She told me about the room I'd probably be living in and gave me some tips on what to bring, what not to bring. She also let me know about the base and what the dining facilities were like there, so I'd probably need a crock pot. <br />
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My feeling about Korea today is ... okay. It feels good being able to talk with someone who can actually let me see, mentally, what I'm getting into. <br />
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I received a phone call from a good brother-friend of mine, J Guy. He was so upset that I'd be leaving my kids to serve this tour. I was pretty encouraged by him calling to comfort me and share his brotherly love for me. I felt loved.<br />
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I'm trying to get a hold of my friend, Daniel, who is currently struggling with a divorce. He and his family are a beautiful thing and I always admired them as a unit. To know that they are suffering so much hurts me and I'm so concerned for them all. He hasn't written me back in almost a month and the last e-mail he wrote expressed how frustrated, angry, and hurt he is. I sent him another e-mail today. Tomorrow, I will try to call him.<br />
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Patrick and I are about to Skype tonight. I sent him part one of two Christmas gifts and I want him to open it tonight. Partly because I was worried when he told me that the FedEx guy tossed it onto his porch. It's a wooden humidor! I'm worried it might be broken and I want to be able to have him return it in time for him to receive part two-- eleven very fine Dominican cigars. I couldn't get Cubans. Anyway, I'm excited to see how he'll react if the humidor is in good shape. He likes cigars.<br />
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Lastly, I hate keeping this Korea a secret from the kids. I won't break, though. I don't want to hang that over their heads during Christmas. I'll wait til after my oldest boy's birthday in January. Sigh. I hate thinking of leaving them. If you're a parent, you know the feeling.<br />
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I wish I could bring Bruce with me. He's my companion, my friend. He may be a dog but he's my favorite person aside from my human-family. He looks at me with giant eyes and I hate knowing I won't see them for a whole year.<br />
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Finally, I just want to say that I praise God. For everything. He never wastes a hurt. He never wastes tears. He is my Father. And I love Him so much.<br />
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Goodnight, all.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-77613199494146571602014-12-10T23:49:00.000-06:002014-12-10T23:49:55.668-06:00Korea PrepSo far, I have A LOT of things to do to prepare for this remote tour. I have four different checklists. I just prepared about fourteen powers of attorney. I have to get an anthrax and smallpox vaccine, which is gonna SUUUUCK. I guess it's about time though, right? When I deployed a few years ago, I had to get a rabies and Japanese Encephalitis vaccine. I might as well get the rest of the crazy ones. <br />
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I'm not telling the kids about Korea until after the holidays and birthdays. I've decided to use the time I have with them to create some awesome memories. So far here's what I've done:<br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-size: large;">I convinced them I'm a ninja.</span> </div>
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<em>Been trying to do this for a year, but my kids are too smart.</em> </div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">We went to our first college football game.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-size: large;">I took them to the top of a mountain</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">We made our first-ever snowman!</span></div>
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<em>We didn't have enough snow to make a big one.</em></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">We have Grandma here!</span></div>
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I'm going to keep trying to make opportunities for cool memories. But more importantly, I'm just trying to make sure that we're spending good, quality time together. They're worth it.</div>
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More to come on Korea prep.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-5776383286289012732014-12-05T09:04:00.001-06:002014-12-05T09:05:05.395-06:00The Dreaded E-mailSo once every few years of an enlisted person's life, they will receive an e-mail that makes them hold their breath. The "From" is usually "System Generated E-mail" and you know that's always some kind of official notification e-mail box. Well, I got my own e-mail last week shortly after returning home from work.<br />
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<i>"Congratulations! This is to notify you of your selection for a Permanent Change of Duty Station (PCS)..."</i><br />
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What?? I immediately remembered receiving a call for volunteers for Korea, Spain, Germany, Portugal, and England two weeks ago. So Big AF didn't get enough volunteers and now here I am with an assignment. The e-mail is a teaser. It congratulates you, but doesn't say where you're going or when. So I was left with anxiety and worry.<br />
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If I got Germany or England, it would be a long tour and I would get to take my kids and pets. But we'd have to stay for 3 years. And if I got deployed from there, I'd have to spend thousands of dollars to send my kids back to the CONUS to live with my family. <br />
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If I got a short tour like Korea, Spain, or Portugal, then I'd only have to serve 15 months. But I would have to leave my children, pets and belongings behind. <br />
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Needless to say, I would've been unhappy with either.<br />
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I got to work and logged onto my computer. <br />
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-large;">Korea. I got Korea. </span> </div>
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And guess what, I leave in just a matter of months. <br />
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So here we go again, Combat Boots Mama is leaving home without the kiddos. Ahhhh.... such is military life.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-62429251370909358992014-11-09T20:59:00.001-06:002014-11-09T20:59:29.220-06:00Journal- 9 NovWow, it has been a while since I wrote. Things have been really happening over the last few months.<br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-large;">In the Summer...</span></div>
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The boys took swim class this summer.</div>
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I was super proud of them!</div>
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My brother and I joined forces to do the </div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-size: x-large;">**Dirty Dash 2014**</span></div>
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We got really ... gross.</div>
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But it was so much fun!</div>
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And I got to spend time with my brother.</div>
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The boys got bucked off sheep at the rodeo.</div>
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Caden did a great job at rock climbing!</div>
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They spent lots of time outdoors!</div>
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Bruce and I spent lots of time outdoors, too.</div>
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Patrick and I got to spend time together... also outdoors.</div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: x-large;">Fall Is Now Here</span></div>
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Patrick, my handsome man, will be here in two days!!</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-85039658700866508752014-07-07T00:07:00.004-05:002014-07-07T00:07:53.895-05:00Journal-6 JulyLife has taken such a turn in the past week. My mom and stepdad flew in from Guam last Friday. Yay! They're just awesome. The kids adore them. Then Patrick, a friend I've made and whom I've been "talking to" for a couple of months now, flew in on Saturday last week. He's amazing. A good Christian who reflects what Christians should. I'm a little smitten, but I'm being really slow and cautious because I fall in love fast and stupidly. <br />
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Every day has been a blur. Patrick's visit was amazing, we went out just to hang and talk a couple of nights. In the day he hung with my family and me. He's super sweet but also a little rough around the edges. He has a soft spot for dogs, so if anything I know he has a good heart. Dogs rock, just sayin. He is super friendly, funny, and charming all at the same time. And respectful. And did I mention, Christian? Same values, yay! I was sad when he left, but so happy we got to visit and spend a few days getting to know each other in person. He's a plane ride away, so we're kind of just testing our wings out here.<br />
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I've been coaching tee ball for 4-5 year olds since the middle of May and it has been the BEST thing I've led. The kids are so much fun! They crack me up and melt my heart. The parents are great, they're good sports and I'm lucky to have them. Coaching has definitely taken a toll on the kids and me since the boys are both in tee ball, different nights! We're playing games Mondays through Thursdays and we get wiped FAST. <br />
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Another thing that has kept us busy lately is the adoption of a kitten. Yes, another friggin animal. This one was dumped in a Petsmart parking lot and we couldn't just leave her there. Sean's "Mommy Please" kind of got to me, too. So far the addition isn't too much trouble. She's getting along just fine with Bruce and the ferrets, but man I'm kind of running a small zoo here. I guess I just have to keep myself in check and make sure I'm balancing everything well.<br />
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My mood right now is: Tired, happy, smitten, and filled with joy. Even though I'm so tired lately (mentally and physically), I am so happy. God is amazing, He's definitely keeping me in His arms. I pray that He keeps my family under His watch and that my friends are building a relationship with Him. I love my God. He is my rock.<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-31237050129804624262014-06-19T00:56:00.000-05:002014-06-19T01:34:34.299-05:00Mad <p class='bloggerplus_text_section' align='left' style='clear:both;'>I'm lonely. And I find myself feeling angry sometimes. Not at the people who I've given up in order to ensure my children have a good life. Not at my parents for failing to teach me what a good relationship looks like. Not at my friends who stay in bad relationships just because it's better than being alone. <br><br>I'm mad at myself. For failing to choose a good person to spend my life with. I wonder why do I sabotage myself? Why do I go into a relationship hoping that maybe he's "the one" when I know deep down inside that he's not? I never answer these questions. I just ask them after each break up. Or when I'm lonely. <br><br>People tell me that the right guy will come along and I smile and nod my head and tell them how I agree and that I'm perfectly okay with waiting. I'm only half lying. I think deep down inside I want to stay alone. Not because I don't want someone else. <br><br>I don't want to fail again. My kids' dad was a horrible mistake. I'm not going to sugar coat it tonight and say "without him I wouldn't have had my children." I know that's true. But it was a horrible experience and I don't ever want to make that mistake again. I don't have just me to worry about. When I didn't have kids the only bad thing to come of a failed relationship was a broken heart. Now I have two additional hearts to protect. And theirs is more important than mine. <br><br>My 5 year old, Sean, had a rough week because his daycare class was so busy with making Father's Day stuff and having Father's Day lunch and sharing stories of their dads. He threw a plastic shovel and it hit a kid in the face. He told his teacher "I don't have a dad. My father doesn't know how to be a good dad."<br><br>How the hell am I supposed to heal that? People tell me "you just have to remind him that he has YOU and he has other family members who love him." Yeah, try telling a 5 year old that what he wants doesn't matter because everyone else loves him. When what he truly knows is that he needs a father and the only one he has is an asshole who doesn't know how to be a good dad. <br><br>And here I am at past midnight closing up the third episode of Orange Is The New Black I've watched since the kids have fallen asleep. And all I want is someone to share it with. Someone to talk to about how freaking awesome this stupid series is. <br><br>I put them in swim class and I put them in tee ball. So they can be kids and have fun and learn boy stuff. Hell I'm coaching Sean's tee ball team. And they laugh and have a good time. We throw the ball around at the park and we go hiking and collect rocks and get dirty. It's all good stuff. They enjoy it. But at the end of the day we're still just three. We're a damn good three. But they still ask me why God hasn't given them a good dad.<br><br>And that pisses me off. Because I haven't given them a good dad. I made the wrong choices in men. I chose to be alone out of fear of failing yet again. <br><br>And I wonder if I will always have no one. And if they will always only have me. I don't know that answer. <br><br>Someone asked me if I've prayed about it. And I do. A lot. But even while I'm praying I am doubting. I go on Facebook and see the posts of all my married friends and I know that behind those smiling couples lies bad marriages. Not all of them. But enough to stunt my hope. <br><br>Not sure what my point is anymore. I guess it's just a rant. No real need for answers or pity. Just some single mom ranting. I guess it's up to me. It's up to me to take risks and find that right guy. It's up to me to deal with the heartbreak after each failed attempt. Or just hold out for that right guy, if I can recognize him. <br><br>So if you're a single mom feeling lonely or angry, don't feel too bad. Under all this fake smile, head- nodding perfectly-fine-with-waiting single mom lies someone who feels your pain. I know it's hard. And lonely. And sad. But you aren't alone in that. Not really. </p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-69766378225130301252014-05-03T02:43:00.001-05:002014-12-11T21:43:00.899-06:00I Was A Ninja, Really!<div>
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<i>The boys were having a deep conversation today while I was driving. </i></div>
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Sean: That car is going faster than us.</div>
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Caden: Yeah but we beat that white car. </div>
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Sean: But that truck with the black falcon on it is getting faster!</div>
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Me: Black falcon! But I defeated him!</div>
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Caden: What?</div>
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<i>Sean's face is showing disbelief. </i></div>
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Me: I defeated him when I was... a ninja. </div>
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Sean<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">: A ninja?</span></div>
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Caden: No you didn't mom. </div>
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Me: I did. I didn't have a sword though. I had nunchucks.<i> (Quick nunchuck super moves with sound effects)</i></div>
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<i></i><br />
<i>Sean laughs. Caden stares at me through the rear view mirror. </i></div>
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Caden: I can't believe that. </div>
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Me: I was a cool ninja.</div>
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Sean: Whoa.</div>
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Caden: Well that truck passed us mom. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-29478665583888696762014-05-01T00:46:00.001-05:002014-05-01T00:47:35.528-05:00The RegretI was running late for work. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">It was a couple of years ago. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">The kids weren't cooperating. Caden especially. He couldn't find the pants he wanted. </span><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I was chasing the hands of the clock. I was angry. My words were firm and impatient. I had to be at work on time. There was an important ceremony to host. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I scolded them for sleeping late the night before. I rushed Sean into his daycare room without a goodbye. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Caden had a scowl on his face and he was quiet. I was glad he wasn't whining. He walked slowly toward his classroom. Hurry up, I told him. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I didn't say goodbye. Instead I rushed to the car and started it up. I hit the gas hard about to race to work. But something caught my eye.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">A small open palm on the window of Caden's classroom. I slowed the car and squinted my eyes for a better look. Caden's face peered at me. He was crying. He had his hand on the window. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">During the ceremony, the music director asked me what was wrong. I choked back the sob in my throat as I told him. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Don't ever sacrifice your children for this bullshit, he said. All of this? The ceremonies, the meetings, the stress. After you retire these people will forget you. But your children will not. Don't let their memories be filled with tearful mornings as you left them for this. Tell them you love them each time you part. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">They are the ones who matter in the end. So make them matter in the now. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Since then I've not once let the morning be filled with impatience and frustration. Each time I think of that little palm on the window, I hug them a little tighter. As if I'm still apologizing for it. Never again will I make them less important than this job. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisuYv7SIoNTJNnifok6JMKyaOkOYeNMu03SZ-P5Fyqq8Oi-77sd5K8DCL4RpEttDc-Cdkkbk6t34e7hh_YFCGxHh6e3-qDJlUQ5pV0l1ZEvQi64GvJvDFWppcIEvhe7f-nWQ__u5ThiXXS/s640/blogger-image-327354090.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisuYv7SIoNTJNnifok6JMKyaOkOYeNMu03SZ-P5Fyqq8Oi-77sd5K8DCL4RpEttDc-Cdkkbk6t34e7hh_YFCGxHh6e3-qDJlUQ5pV0l1ZEvQi64GvJvDFWppcIEvhe7f-nWQ__u5ThiXXS/s640/blogger-image-327354090.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-51492325334759990042014-04-16T23:50:00.001-05:002014-04-24T00:09:09.325-05:00Pause the DatingI've decided I'm not going to do the whole dating thing for while. The last one was a disaster. I took a risk on someone who seemed legit and it turned out he was a snake in disguise. It's the nature of dating I suppose. Putting myself out there, taking risks, learning lessons.<br />
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I think I'm much better off pushing past the losers, seeing through lies, and being really intentional about choosing the man who is genuinely right. </div>
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One thing I will remember about the heartache comes from C.S. Lewis:</div>
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<blockquote class="quoteBody" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding-left: 25px; text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i>To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.</i></span></blockquote>
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1069006.C_S_Lewis" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><i>C.S. Lewis</i></span></a></h2>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-81136125305021869732014-02-18T00:21:00.003-06:002014-02-18T00:23:20.115-06:00Getting Out There<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUdaixF385XQUtLlH4fb9imPZDyKdZO_WtBcbMo1XoByU90ax_WE9jXhtQlFez5noQd5TxPXYT4cuGL_SYgd_ZlkTlHA-WGAreKffg4WaYyDFddUgjMIRMG-_ZtnMkhbdXRhzOspMEior-/s1600/me+valentines.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUdaixF385XQUtLlH4fb9imPZDyKdZO_WtBcbMo1XoByU90ax_WE9jXhtQlFez5noQd5TxPXYT4cuGL_SYgd_ZlkTlHA-WGAreKffg4WaYyDFddUgjMIRMG-_ZtnMkhbdXRhzOspMEior-/s1600/me+valentines.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: large;">I think it's time this single mama gets put back on the market. </span> I figure, I'm a pretty good date. I clean up nice, have a pretty fun personality, I've got good qualities. Why not put myself out there? It would be nice to have someone to talk to and laugh with. I just have to remember how to do this.<br />
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So I started talking to someone. He's a single dad too. Two kids who live with him full time. He owns his own business and loves to be outdoors. He seems very nice and I can't help but feel excited. I'm not very quick to get hooked on someone, which I think is a good thing. But it's still exciting to meet someone new. So even if it doesn't work out or we're not compatible... or he's crazy... I know I can walk away at least knowing I gave it a shot.</div>
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I know how to look for the red flags, which used to be my downfall. I think my biggest struggle is not running away before I get to actually know him. So this will be an interesting adventure for sure. </div>
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So for all you single moms out there who are getting your feet wet in that dating pool, I'd like to list some red flags that you have to be aware of and heed. Plus, it'll help me remember while I'm out there, too!</div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">How Do You Know When To Walk Away?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQf7Kb24rRzWQBKrCZRC-1yDhCqdliEmbLCoT1NPza6RcPUKObjkmKbHfn7zO2aBumZVQi-RWUHPaElBfREmk2zfEf3YfkVFvE3jrLCnNb_gexkMmH4ERFgeDALGVQeqXSVM3ffthywOS/s1600/rose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQf7Kb24rRzWQBKrCZRC-1yDhCqdliEmbLCoT1NPza6RcPUKObjkmKbHfn7zO2aBumZVQi-RWUHPaElBfREmk2zfEf3YfkVFvE3jrLCnNb_gexkMmH4ERFgeDALGVQeqXSVM3ffthywOS/s1600/rose.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></div>
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1. <b>He lets you know all about him by spilling his broken heart stories.</b> He's such a good guy, why can't he find the right girl? Everyone just keeps cheating on him no matter how good he treats them. Aww, woe is him. Nope. He has issues he needs to work on and unless you're dying to mend someone else's broken heart, I'd turn the other way.</div>
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2. <b>He is super clingy. </b> If he calls or texts you to wish you a good morning, that's nice. But if he is constantly texting you and gets annoyed that you aren't always texting right back even though you do have a full time job or are busy with kids, run fast. This is not a good sign and is actually a sure sign that he has control issues.</div>
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3. <b>He glorifies his mother.</b> Now don't get me wrong, we all love a man who loves his mother. But if he reveals either right away or somewhere down the road that he is totally committed to her ... kind of like one would be committed to a wife... just drop him. And fast. A mama's boy will never change. She will always be at the top of his list and you will never light a candle to her. You don't want a boy, you want a man, right?</div>
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4. <b>He can't wait for you to pause while you're talking so he can tell you what's on his mind. </b> Of course, during a conversation, it's a two-way thing. You want feedback and you want participation. But if he's biting his nails to get his two cents in all the time, it's a sign that he's not really interested in what you have to say and more interested in you listening to what he has to say.</div>
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5. <b>He quickly talks about sex.</b> He talks about how it's "all about you" and that he's a "pleaser." Step on the brakes now. In the dating stage, your focus should be getting to know someone BEFORE you hit the bedroom. A man should be interested in you, your personality, your strengths and weaknesses, what makes you YOU and what makes you special. He should actually like you as a person, not as an object. You're much more valuable than that. Don't give in. Walk away.</div>
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6. <b>He's a little too private with his phone. </b>If he's constantly placing his phone face-down so you won't see the caller ID, I'd be a little suspicious. But if he's really quick to pick up the phone and rushing to another room to answer it, red flag. </div>
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7. <b>Speaking of phones, if he's a phone-a-holic, </b>you will have to ask yourself if you think he's worth it. If he's constantly on Facebook, texting friends, or checking e-mails, chance are he's not that into you. </div>
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Now, I've listed red flags to look for in a man. You've got to make sure you aren't doing any of those things, too. If you're doing any of those things I just listed, you really have to work on them. Guys look for red flags too and they run FAST. In fact, they're much better at that than we are. </div>
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I'll be posting a blog about relationships and the things we do to destroy them, intentionally or unintentionally. Keep an eye out!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-45757851773833972132014-01-29T21:58:00.000-06:002014-01-29T21:58:13.738-06:00Das Boots! 29 Jan 14<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u>Today's Blurb</u></span><br />
Tomorrow is Caden's 7th birthday. I'm letting him ditch school (he's only had one other missed school day this academic year so I don't feel so bad) and the three of us are going to spend the day celebrating. We have a birthday tradition, which the boys started all on their own. The birthday boy gets to decide if the non-birthday boy can get a gift as well. It's their way of being able to share the day without jealousy. I had no part in this decision.<br />
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Well, tonight, Caden asked me if Sean could get two toys instead of one. The birthday boy gets four and the non-birthday boy gets one. I told him, "Caden, the rule is that Sean can only get one." <br />
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He looked a little sad and said, "Well, what if I get just three and Sean can get two?"<br />
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I thought about this, a bit puzzled at what he was saying. "Caden, you understand that you can get four, right? But you're giving up your fourth gift so that Sean can get two. Are you sure about this?"<br />
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He smiled and nodded. "Yes, that way he won't be sad that he only gets one. Besides, three is plenty."<br />
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I felt my eyebrows draw together in that confused manner. How the heck did he become so selfless? This is a kid who bullies his younger brother, gets annoyed with him when he feels as if he doesn't have his space, and can't stand when he is out-run by him. Yet, here he is giving up a TOY so that Sean can have another. <br />
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I don't remember being that selfless when I was a kid.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>S'mores for the first time ever.</b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u>Cool Moment</u></span><br />
Someone paid me a really great compliment today. I was told that I should be a model because of my facial features. How the heck did I get so lucky to have been told such a thing? Needless to say, I have been really needing a pick-me-up lately. Been feeling a little unpretty. So this compliment has definitely lifted me.<br />
<br />
A more important somebody (ahem... Caden) gave me a great compliment as well:<br />
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<b>Caden: Mommy, I'm about to pay you a compliment.</b></div>
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<b>Me: Oh really? Okay, what's your compliment?</b></div>
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<b>Caden: I love you more than water.</b></div>
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Let's hope he really really loves water. :-)<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u>Relationships</u></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hb_MdwODn5U/Uum_Z_jQD_I/AAAAAAAADPQ/XPUh895eA50/s1600/14+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hb_MdwODn5U/Uum_Z_jQD_I/AAAAAAAADPQ/XPUh895eA50/s1600/14+-+1" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trying to rock those grays.</td></tr>
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You know, nothing's really going on in the romance department. I've made a single dad friend who I hang out with. We let the kids play while we talk grown up stuff. I also keep in touch with an ex-boyfriend whom I've managed to have kept a friendship with. He's 52 and wonderful. There could be something potential still there, but he's got some stuff he needs to work out which caused us to end the relationship a year and some change ago. Nothing bad, but he's got a major life decision he needs to make and without that decision, we can't really move forward. So for now we're enjoying our friendship and keeping things sweet. Looks like my Valentine's Day will be another lonely one. Maybe I should send myself flowers.<br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: large;">If you want the rainbow, you've got to put up with the rain.</span></div>
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<i><span style="color: #45818e;">-- Dolly Parton</span></i></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e;">I love this lady.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u>Random Photos</u></span></div>
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When I got out of my car at the Youth Center to pick up Caden, </div>
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a gorgeous buck was walking around.</div>
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I had to stalk him just a little.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u>Creative Nonfiction</u></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Amber Still</span></div>
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by Jasmine Shine </div>
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AKA</div>
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Lucy Diamond/Sibyl Vane/whatever else I use online</div>
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We stood there for what seemed like a lifetime, staring at each other with our minds racing. Our breaths were one, a steady rhythm purposely designed to disguise our inner panic. Even the wind seemed to come to a halt. It felt as if the entire world paused, waiting to see what would happen next. Not a single sound was made.</div>
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I had just arrived at work after a morning yoga session. For the first time in weeks, my mind was clear. I'd spent nights tossing in bed, disturbed by a bout of mild depression. As a single mother in my early thirties, I was hit with a painful realization that I may just be undesirable to men. This rut brought waves of self esteem attacks and I'd found myself weeping when I was alone and a love song happened to sound within earshot. Yoga seemed to have brought me back to center this morning.</div>
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When I pulled into the office's parking lot, I realized all the spaces were taken. I had four other options, each would cause me to walk about five minutes in the winter wind. I decided to take the one that offered a scenic walk.</div>
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I smiled when I exited my vehicle, pulled my beanie snugly over my ears, and headed toward the trail head. I stuck my right hand in my jacket pocket, making sure my phone was in there in case I wanted to take a picture. The trail offered a beautiful scene of trees and mountains. I was actually grateful there wasn't any parking at the office parking lot.</div>
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The sounds of nature rushed at me and they made me remember the breathing exercises in the yoga class. Fast, sharp breaths as I inhaled while holding the deep squat position and slow exhales as I closed my eyes. In the midst of a gray depression, the exercises pulled me into a place where I was faced with just myself and all my strengths and weaknesses. I remembered who I was and how valuable I really am.</div>
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Halfway through the trail, the winter chill nipped at my ears and I tugged at my beanie once again. And that was when it happened. A coyote stepped onto the trail five feet before me. It trotted across, climbed the hill beside me and stopped. We both froze as we realized what had just happened.</div>
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My mind raced, searching through that mental checklist we are all supposed to keep that told us what to do when we encounter wild animals. I remembered that for bears, I'm supposed to pretend to be dead. But what was I supposed to do for coyotes? Do I just keep walking? Do I scream at it and wave my arms to make myself appear larger?</div>
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As I asked myself these questions, the coyote seemed to also contemplate his next actions. I paused in my thoughts and actually looked at him. He was as big as an average sized dog. He blended in with the woods. Mange had taken over the majority of the back half of his body. His tail resembled that of a rat. And he looked a little thin. What really captured me, though, was his eyes.</div>
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They were a brilliant amber that shone in the sun and it almost looked as if I was looking into a pair of amber stones. Wild eyes. They burned holes in me as he stared and I realized he was in a state of desperation. We had a hard summer and the small animals were now scarce. He was hungry. And here I was all alone on a trail he happened to be crossing. An image of him attacking me made me shiver in the cold. And yet, we both just stood there. Silently. Waiting.</div>
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If ever there was a moment when I'd regret feeling depressed over matters of loneliness and fear of being undesirable, it was now. At this moment, I valued my self worth. I am a smart woman with plenty to offer a man. I'm a fantastic mom. And I am a damn hard worker. I was not coyote food.</div>
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He was beautiful just standing there with his wild reflection of nature. Hungry and contemplative. But I was hungry too. For my life. I stared back at him and stood tall. Taking in a deep breath, I took a quiet step toward him.</div>
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Like a dream that ended in a flash when you awoke in a panic, he was gone. His movements made no sound as he disappeared. I stood there, still in awe of my first encounter with a wild predator. I smiled to myself as I turned and continued on the trail.</div>
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What an amazing day.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-39809898097391099112014-01-26T22:30:00.000-06:002014-01-26T22:30:02.440-06:00I'm Doing Fine<div style="text-align: center;">
I am a single mom of two boys. </div>
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There's no father in the picture.</div>
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It's just me. </div>
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I'm all they have. </div>
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And the questions people ask me.</div>
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"Who will teach them to be good men?"</div>
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It's me. </div>
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"Who's their male role model?"</div>
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Me. </div>
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"They need a father figure."</div>
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Well that's me too. </div>
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I'm okay with being just me. </div>
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I've had to do it by myself for years. </div>
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I've been blessed when it could've been worse. </div>
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Why is it not okay for the people who ask the question?</div>
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My boys are happy. </div>
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They are smart. </div>
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They are brave. </div>
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They hold the door open for women. </div>
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They scrape knees and climb trees. </div>
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They beat up bad guys when they play. </div>
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They roar. </div>
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They sing. </div>
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They dance. </div>
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They fight. </div>
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I am a single mom of two boys. </div>
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And I'm doing just fine. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-73182697103004176472014-01-23T17:32:00.001-06:002014-01-23T17:32:30.290-06:00Amazing WednesdayYesterday was incredible. The unit started the day off with yoga for our PT session. I couldn't believe that yoga could actually make me sore! What made it really cool was the fact that PT is usually the same thing all the time. Sometimes we'd do a sport instead of a good work out, but for the most part things were pretty consistent. Throwing yoga in there really surprised everyone. I think every once in a while, change is needed. We need to stop and do something different just to get an appreciation for a different perspective.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZfXes04sJIk/UuGcrZVTwfI/AAAAAAAADHc/A_ZOPXPNurg/s1600/14+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZfXes04sJIk/UuGcrZVTwfI/AAAAAAAADHc/A_ZOPXPNurg/s1600/14+-+1" height="262" width="320" /></a>Later, I parked my car beside a trail and hiked a good five minutes to my office building. About halfway through the trail, a coyote crossed right in front of me. I stopped dead in my tracks. I'm not familiar with coyotes and their behavior around humans. Would he attack me? Is there something I need to do so he doesn't attack me? When he crossed, he trotted up a hill and stopped to look at me. At this point, I thought it was safe to go on. So I did for a few strides and then I stopped and looked back. He stood there, frozen in his tracks, and stared at me. He probably wondered the same thing about me. Was I going to attack him? Did he need to run? We stood there for about thirty seconds just looking at each other. Right now, thirty seconds seems like a flash. But at that point, it felt as if I was in another world... forever. I noticed things about him I wouldn't have appreciated in a picture or a TV show. He blended in perfectly with the woods. Patches of hair was missing on the back half of his body. But his face. His face was beautiful. Wild and contemplating. It was an amazing moment. It was long enough for me to take a quick pic. <br />
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At the end of the day, I got to Caden's youth center and stared in awe at the sky. Standing out from the usual beauty of sunset colors was a cross. Yes, a cross. I thought it was incredible.<br />
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When I reflected on the day, I was fully aware of how many gifts we are given each moment of our lives. Stopping to appreciate them makes me realize how blessed I am. No matter what sadness or frustration the day has held, there are small gifts all around us just waiting for us to appreciate them. Meeting a coyote and seeing a cross in the sky are bigger and easier for me to identify as gifts, so I was reminded that these moments are rare and I have to treasure them for days when I need them the most.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-79928819576771020122014-01-22T00:23:00.001-06:002014-01-26T11:04:57.622-06:00Inspired<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
I did some art today. I'm not worried about the imperfections in the details. We're all imperfect so I like them. </div>
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Some kind of hero. Not sure who he is but I like him anyway. </div>
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I was mainly interested in her eyes. </div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-19215174682497772072014-01-22T00:18:00.001-06:002014-01-26T11:05:18.970-06:00Self Portrait<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I did a self portrait today. This is me. Imperfect. Weird. Me. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-21716150085899598242014-01-18T23:18:00.002-06:002014-01-18T23:18:49.366-06:00Awesome Song<b><span style="font-size: large;">Here's what I'm listening to tonight. It's fitting for my current mood.</span></b><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Another Girl</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">by Wild Belle</span></div>
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I lose sleep, I lose sleep.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Too much I've seen.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />And I weep, yes, I weep,<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Cut your lips upon her body.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Didn't I, didn't I, didn't I, didn't I treat you right?<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />If I was so gone, why didn't you say?<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />You keep me waiting by.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />On the floor, you know I'd crawl,<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Just to change your mind.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />If I lock the door just to stall you for a moment,<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I won't get you, even if I tried.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Didn't I, didn't I, didn't I, didn't I treat you right?<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, another one.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, another one.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, just another one,<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, looking for love.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another one of your experimentation,<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />You can turn me out, but I'm just another girl.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, another one.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, another one.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, just another one,<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, looking for love.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I lose sleep, I lose sleep.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Too much I've seen.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />And I weep, yes, I weep,<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Cut your lips upon her body, oh<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Didn't I, didn't I, didn't I, didn't I treat you right?<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, another one.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, another one.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, another one,<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, looking for love.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, looking for love.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, looking for love.<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I'm just another girl, just another one.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-18223110239891248482014-01-18T21:10:00.000-06:002014-01-18T22:07:19.123-06:00Das Boots! 17 Jan 14<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u>Today's Blurb</u></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>It's my Air Force birthday!</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Vmv2Sivwr-eSlQhY6DBA8ZKxxLHRE002mRSxaBP4ckznCoFOotmkxsg9sW0rUhdAF7m9UbLOAPFhYkASq9K3U_cyCjOafpgHw0QCyMhnCjqk5sni80BhHGnF9KnNxKlArrj0Mfv2CR9Q/s1600/IMG_9461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Vmv2Sivwr-eSlQhY6DBA8ZKxxLHRE002mRSxaBP4ckznCoFOotmkxsg9sW0rUhdAF7m9UbLOAPFhYkASq9K3U_cyCjOafpgHw0QCyMhnCjqk5sni80BhHGnF9KnNxKlArrj0Mfv2CR9Q/s1600/IMG_9461.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Thirteen years ago today, I stepped off a bus and into the life of the Air Force. I grew not only as an Airman, but as a woman and as an individual. I am a mother, a supervisor, a Wingman who can think for herself as a Non-Commissioned Officer. I can count the number of times on one hand when I swore I wouldn't reenlist. And each time I did that, I imagined hanging up the uniform and I knew deep inside I just couldn't do it. I love serving my country and I love the Air Force.<br />
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It's a special day and I'm so grateful for it.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u>Kids Corner</u></span></div>
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I took the kids to a gaming center where they played bumper cars, rode roller coasters and climbed a big wall. Caden is quite the climber and isn't afraid to demonstrate it. Their faces were red and their hair was all matted with sweat. When we got home, they went straight to bed without a fight. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Inspiring Quote</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47;">“You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She's not perfect - you aren't either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break - her heart. So don't hurt her, don't change her, don't analyze and don't expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she's not there.”<br />― <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/25241.Bob_Marley" style="text-decoration: none;">Bob Marley</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u>Movie Highlight</u></span><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/gWycuaWJFCM?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe>I recently watched Grizzly Man, a documentary about Timothy Treadwell, a free spirit who chose to live in the wilderness... alongside grizzly bears. Before I watched the movie, I heard about his story and the negative comments that were made about him. People said he got what he deserved. Even I slightly judged his decision. But watching the documentary made me appreciate what he was trying, or thought he was trying, to do. He had a passion for wildlife. He was a troubled person with depression issues and sought a way to fulfill a purpose he believed he had. In the documentary, you can clearly see his outrage for the human race and his compassion for the animals. At the end of the movie, I was inspired by him. Not to go out and do what he did, but to seek my own purpose and to find a way to serve it. I thought it was a beautiful story and I believe he not only found himself but perhaps God as well.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u>Current Song Obsession</u></span><br />
The movie Grizzly Man inspired me to purchase Coyotes by Don Edwards. It is a beautiful song that speaks of appreciating the past and finding yourself alone with just the coyotes, a creature that doesn't even accompany man. It is a passionate song and I enjoy it very much.<br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: x-large;"><u>Random Photo</u></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5IlSRPeui2OrE02W-RP50lPSbnX42bYhdyBi-CSmrDPJa69k1Lt6KV-NPElDROjQmtxRCX06bB8kgTaIExIOVrWcOnj_XTr_9EMq8EpYt8xe2qDVtX20BfaV1QDEbOYsrZSvaX8l_KO4K/s1600/IMG_0101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5IlSRPeui2OrE02W-RP50lPSbnX42bYhdyBi-CSmrDPJa69k1Lt6KV-NPElDROjQmtxRCX06bB8kgTaIExIOVrWcOnj_XTr_9EMq8EpYt8xe2qDVtX20BfaV1QDEbOYsrZSvaX8l_KO4K/s1600/IMG_0101.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I just love this photo of my kids. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It's not clear</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It's not perfect</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">But it captures the beauty of my life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Extremely Short Story</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Empty Promises</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">by ... Me :-)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I passed you on my way to the daycare again. My light turned green and I took the left, under the overpass. The sky was gray and the traffic was as heavy as it normally was at five-thirty in the evening. Impatience filled the streets.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I always expect you to be there, under the overpass. My eyes always seem to seek you as soon as I get under. And there you were. Salt and pepper beard, so thick it reminds me of a dirty Santa Claus beard. Like a beat up, crusty Santa Claus. Covered in a dusty old olive-green jacket and some torn jeans, I see you shiver in the cold. You stare at the cars as they pass you by. Well, I don't know for sure if you're staring at the cars or just staring. Deep in thought, inside yourself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Like yesterday, the day before, and the days before then, I asked you in my head, "Why do you live there? How did you let yourself become a victim to the world in such a way? Why can't you get a job? Have you tried? Will no one hire you?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I asked you these things as I drove past you, wondering when I'm going to give you some spare change. I never carry cash. But if I had some, I'd... what would I do? Would I pull over under the overpass? Would I really hand you money?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">As I passed you, I focused on the traffic and fought my way to the right lane. Trying to beat everyone else so they don't cut me off first. I forgot about you then. I drove down the street and found myself at my son's daycare. He filled me with warmth when I hugged him after missing him all day. Little arms wrapped me around my neck as a tiny voice squealed "Mommy!" He was the best part of my day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">On the way home, I passed you again. This time, my toddler pointed at you from his car seat. "Bye bye!" he called as he waved at you. You didn't see. Or maybe you did, but you were too cold to smile. Too hungry to wave.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>Next time</i>, I thought in my head. <i>Next time I'll stop</i>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">But I wouldn't.</span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-27533054433726663052014-01-16T14:35:00.001-06:002014-01-16T23:04:10.902-06:00Wednesday Night OutingWhat a night. Talk about emotional roller coaster. <div><br></div><div><b>Whole Foods</b></div><div>So we had never been to Whole Foods before and I needed to stop and get some meat. I absolutely fell in love. This place had so much healthy food! Grass-fed, non-hormone injected meat, organic chicken, everything. They even had a fantastic deli with excellent service.</div><div><br></div><div>While looking for some premade meals at the deli counter, one of the staff asked if I needed help. I explained that one of the kids was dairy-free and that I was just looking at the ingredients of all the meals. He immediately called one of his co-workers over and that guy came to my rescue. He identified each item that had no dairy product in it. He was even patient enough to entertain the boys who went crazy telling me which food item they wanted. I picked out a twice baked potato, a small bowl of sesame-cucumber noodles, and a double breasted chili-lime chicken. When he handed me the items, he told me that the chicken was on him. How sweet! I wanted to hug him!</div><div><br></div><div>I grabbed a couple of those recycled, cloth shopping bags and was amazed that they were only 99 cents. At the base commissary, I spent $4 on each of those! </div><div><br></div><div><b>Ihop</b></div><div>After the grocery trip, I took the kids to eat at Ihop. I know, I know-- why do that when I just boughtt groceries. Welll, it was already 7 p.m. and I didn't want to spend more time cooking dinner when I could just go to Ihop for a quick breakfast-dinner. </div><div><br></div><div>At Ihop, our young male waiter was super cool. He joked with the kids and was verry patient when Sean showed him what his toy robots did that was so spectacular.</div><div><br></div><div>While ordering our food, Sean decided to interrupt me and tell the waiter, "My mom doesn't have hair on her legs anymore because guess what! She got LAZERED!"</div><div><br></div><div>The waiter laughed. My face turned beet red. And Sean...sweet, innocent Sean. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ6CCjctdSDmElH04_2adrlivp7YXugSNNqnisG8aLZZeD4SJeweZnMjGSM6u3_tvfnf6mYuabz8uTT1czoS-lRujEMiu-_e6r9_UU4xuGCnf-Nq-S0WYJUBwX5s00yw_ebEcQ1OdNMyKn/s640/blogger-image--138761.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ6CCjctdSDmElH04_2adrlivp7YXugSNNqnisG8aLZZeD4SJeweZnMjGSM6u3_tvfnf6mYuabz8uTT1czoS-lRujEMiu-_e6r9_UU4xuGCnf-Nq-S0WYJUBwX5s00yw_ebEcQ1OdNMyKn/s640/blogger-image--138761.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-40921194094895159312014-01-14T23:22:00.001-06:002014-01-14T23:22:58.848-06:00Hypnosis?I wake up a lot during the night. Not for a large amount of time. I just wake up enough to check the time, sigh, pray I don't wake up late, then fall back to sleep. Well I have a hard time waking up every morning because I'm so darn tired. So I did some reading and came across the techniques of hypnosis and meditation. I decided to give it a shot. <div><br></div><div>I laid flat on my back in bed. Arms at my side. </div><div><br></div><div>Made sure my neck and head were comfy. </div><div><br></div><div>Closed my eyes and spoke to myself in my head. </div><div><br></div><div>Relax. Breathe in. Breathe out. </div><div><br></div><div>The kids are asleep. They're safe. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm safe. </div><div><br></div><div>Breathe in. Breathe out. Nice and easy. </div><div><br></div><div>Imagine calming sounds. The beach. A heartbeat. Soft wind. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm going to sleep well tonight. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm going to wake up refreshed and rested. </div><div><br></div><div>When my alarm goes off, I'm going to feel ready to get the day started. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm going to start the day quietly and calmly. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm going to relax. I'm going to sleep. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4XeQyBoFqliYeQfoK-OWlm2E4kCui490WGXmSOz9F4RHvxgsNgnsM_UoqLcvCNjzz6hJ6C183pPFKeWXY8iHkLcatQpas5IkUhnZ5STd8DSIQUOPfxWVg101PVfS93MiYDcqyRVik7I1I/s640/blogger-image--1766641880.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4XeQyBoFqliYeQfoK-OWlm2E4kCui490WGXmSOz9F4RHvxgsNgnsM_UoqLcvCNjzz6hJ6C183pPFKeWXY8iHkLcatQpas5IkUhnZ5STd8DSIQUOPfxWVg101PVfS93MiYDcqyRVik7I1I/s640/blogger-image--1766641880.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I fell asleep. And when I woke up at 2am, I told myself I was going to go back to sleep and that I was going to rest until my alarm went off. When my alarm went off, I slowly sat up, stretched and got into the shower. I felt nicely rested and at peace. It didn't dawn on me that my technique worked until I was under that nice, hot water. </div><div><br></div><div>Totally friggin awesome. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-24482549717197446682014-01-14T00:17:00.001-06:002014-01-14T23:11:15.702-06:00Dry NeedlingIt sounds weird, I know. So I have arthritis in my back and neck. My physical therapist did manipulation, electrical stimulation, traction, stretching and strengthening exercises. I'm on pain and migraine meds. It has all, except for traction, helped. But the pain doesn't really stop. It's ongoing, always there. Some days it is dulled out and some days it triggers days-long migraines. It sucks but I've gotten used to it and I've learned to be grateful for the good days. <div><br></div><div>I stopped going to physical therapy last summer. I got busy and pushed it aside. I took my meds and did my stretches and all that. But I let life get in the way. Yesterday, I went back. </div><div><br></div><div>I have a new physical therapist and today we tried dry needling. It's like acupuncture. He stuck needles in my neck and back, wiggled my muscles a bit and left them in my body lol. It wasn't too bad but it wasn't comfy either. My muscles contracted involuntarily. I felt tingly all in my belly, lower back and forearms. And I broke out in a sweat. That's when I realized maybe I was going to pass out. </div><div><br></div><div>But I didn't. Thank friggin goodness. I wasn't stressed about the procedure. I was relaxed. I couldn't understand why I was feeling all clammy. The doc said it was my body's flight or fight response. Go figure. I didn't think I'd be able to withstand three large tattoos and not a few minutes of a few needles in me. </div><div><br></div><div>Anyway, he said that I should feel relief after 24 hours. And boy did I. There still a small spot of the normal pain in my neck but everything else feels so good. I am amazed! My range of motion is great and I feel like I have an almost new upper back. </div><div><br></div><div>I go back in a week for another session. Let's hope I don't get all tingly again. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1734901392982978139.post-30026688546525386642014-01-09T20:17:00.001-06:002014-01-09T20:17:04.911-06:00Remember This PainYou have never loved unless you've sacrificed.<div><br></div><div>Anyone can feel the emotion of love. But love is so much more than an emotion. It is an act. And when you love, truly love, you will sacrifice. And when you love and the love is not returned in action, you will hurt. It can hurt badly.</div><div><br></div><div>I spoke to a very trusted and wise friend of mine about a recent breakup. I explained the reason for the breakup and why I felt so hurt about it. He hugged me and listened as I spoke. And then he shared wise advice. "Remember this pain, darling. Raise your sons in a way that will best teach them not to cause such pain." It is one of the wisest pieces of advice I could've ever received.</div><div><br></div><div>We parents have a tendency to raise our children in a way that benefits ourselves. Many women raise their sons to please their mothers so much that those boys cannot, as men, even detach themselves from her apron strings. Many parents raise their children with the intent on having their children pay them back as they're older when really, they should've given them "a good life" simply because they are their parents. </div><div><br></div><div>With each failed relationship, I take the pain and use it as a lesson to learn how to choose better partners. But sometimes after a breakup, I forget that I am raising sons. I am raising boys who will be men one day and will one day love someone. When my friend told me to remember my pain, he didn't say to remember my pain for me. He said it for the women my boys will date or marry one day. How insightful. How right.</div><div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946856459790808656noreply@blogger.com0