tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959588932877735162024-01-30T03:49:03.961-05:00Lipsticks to Lollipops and Everything in Between...My own honest and somewhat witty recollection of my journey from a bright eyed girl who
wholeheartedly believed in the american dream to a soulful survivor and stay at home mom still finding my way after a disparaging dose of economic reality.Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.comBlogger107125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-42012027197565616392023-12-30T10:19:00.005-05:002023-12-30T10:19:49.166-05:00The Dash - 2024 Edition <p> As 2024 approaches, it’s time for me to put my intentions out there and to use this post to inspire me to keep them throughout the year. </p><p>I’m using The Dash by Linda Ellis as my foundation for my approach and adding this to it: I would like my life’s actions of 2024 that will be rehashed through my dash to be filled with reminders of gratitude and reflecting on where my many but often ignored intuitive hunches took me as I am concentrating on delving into them as they present themselves without question and actually seeing where they go for my biggest change this year. </p><p>Read the poem and tell me what stands out to you and how you plan on filling your dash this upcoming year. </p><div style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; caret-color: rgb(87, 87, 87); color: #575757; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><h4 class="x-el x-el-h4 c1-8n c1-8o c1-1k c1-1l c1-9z c1-20 c1-21 c1-1n c1-1o c1-b c1-2w c1-6e c1-1q c1-6f c1-6h c1-6i c1-6j" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #151515; font-size: 20px; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: unset; line-height: 1.25; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-transform: unset;">The Dash by Linda Ellis</h4></div><p style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; caret-color: rgb(87, 87, 87); color: #575757; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit;"><br style="box-sizing: inherit;" /></span></p><p style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; caret-color: rgb(87, 87, 87); color: #575757; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit;">I read of a man who stood to speak<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />at the funeral of a friend<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />He referred to the dates on the tombstone<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />from the beginning...to the end.</span></p><p style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; caret-color: rgb(87, 87, 87); color: #575757; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit;"><br style="box-sizing: inherit;" /></span></p><p style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; caret-color: rgb(87, 87, 87); color: #575757; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit;">He noted that first came the date of birth<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />and spoke the following date with tears,<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />but he said what mattered most of all<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />was the dash between those years.<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" /></span></p><p style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; caret-color: rgb(87, 87, 87); color: #575757; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit;">For that dash represents all the time<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />that they spent alive on earth.<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />And now only those who loved them<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />know what that little line is worth.<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" /></span></p><p style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; caret-color: rgb(87, 87, 87); color: #575757; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit;">For it matters not, how much we own --<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />the cars...the house...the cash.<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />What matters is how we live and love<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />and how we spend our dash.<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" /></span></p><p style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; caret-color: rgb(87, 87, 87); color: #575757; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit;">So, think about this long and hard.<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />Are there things you'd like to change?<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />For you never know how much time is left<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />that can still be rearranged.<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" /></span></p><p style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; caret-color: rgb(87, 87, 87); color: #575757; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit;">If we could just slow down enough<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />to consider what's true and real,<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />and always try to understand<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />the way other people feel.<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" /></span></p><p style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; caret-color: rgb(87, 87, 87); color: #575757; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit;">And be less quick to anger<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />and show appreciation more,<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />and love the people in our lives<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />like we've never loved before.</span></p><p style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; caret-color: rgb(87, 87, 87); color: #575757; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit;"><br style="box-sizing: inherit;" /></span></p><p style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; caret-color: rgb(87, 87, 87); color: #575757; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit;">If we treat each other with respect<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />and more often wear a smile,<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />remembering this special dash<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />might only last a little while.<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" /></span></p><p style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; caret-color: rgb(87, 87, 87); color: #575757; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit;">So, when your eulogy is being read<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />with your life's actions to rehash,<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />would you be proud of the things they say<br style="box-sizing: inherit;" />about how you spent YOUR dash?</span></p>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-88167746086134402262023-08-24T14:46:00.006-04:002023-08-24T15:10:39.883-04:00A "Hmm" Moment<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Pacifico; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Pacifico; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Pacifico; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Pacifico; font-size: x-large;">Think</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: red;">P</span><span style="color: #2b00fe;">O</span><span style="color: #274e13;">S</span><span style="color: #800180;">I</span><span style="color: #bf9000;">T</span><span style="color: #ff00fe;">I</span><span style="color: #38761d;">V</span><span style="color: #990000;">E</span></b></span></p><p><br /></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p><span> </span>Today, I was talking to a family member I find rather judgmental, and I decided to shift the conversation and propose a new topic about positive attributes. When asked, not what their most positive one was, but, our immediate family, it was interesting to see how trying and uncomfortable it was to say something nice and not rebound back to the negativity. Each time it shifted; I redirected the request back to just summing it up into one positive attribute about each person we were discussing. The words that finally surfaced were perseverant, resilient, curious, and patient. Then, I pondered using those words to focus on rather than shifting back to the less flattering ones I hear more often.</p><p><span> </span>Two take aways I had from this. For me, it doesn't feel good to concentrate more on the negatives than the positives in relationships. It changes the mood, functionality, and overall quality and benefit of even having it at all. However, when it comes to family, it's different and way more complicated. I have been stuck in bad relationships and felt overwhelmed to muster up the energy and discipline to either change or exit them all together. The severity of the disfunction and the wisdom I have picked up along the way on how to properly handle it, though, has, mostly likely, either distanced or removed me from most of them all together. So, when talking to someone at a different place in life about worthy relationships that need a little mending, a positive shift in the words we use and how we feel about them is a perfect way to start introducing some thoughts that will hopefully grow and prosper.</p><p><span> </span>Secondly, I found hearing how someone else sees you, especially in a family role, summed up into the most prominant word that first comes to mind is both surprising and enlightening. Not in a bad way at all. More like a "hmm" moment. I don't think we ask ourselves or people how they perceive us enough and there is definitely some food for thought in that conversation. Furthermore, having someone see an attribute in you that you didn't think of or realize should only add to your self-worth so never take away something negative from it. </p><p><span> </span>Those lil nuggets of knowledge shared with you should make you feel good when offered and don't disagree with them or question them. Then, maybe being focused and appreciative will be some future attributes shared with you!</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-65265073172980975362023-06-03T22:25:00.002-04:002023-06-03T22:46:48.090-04:00Happy Heavenly Birthday <p>Happy heavenly birthday to the man who taught me how to love, that the right way is not always the easiest way, to be kind and stay humble, that patience, respect, common sense, and believing in yourself is always a good start, and that laughter (and ice cream) is truly the best medicine. </p><p>Miss you every day, Dad, and I hope there is ice cream in heaven! Two scoops with chocolate syrup. Love you. </p>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-36946165949532029682023-05-18T15:31:00.007-04:002023-05-18T15:41:51.721-04:00Thanks for Being a “Why” This Year<p>I wanted to share a special moment my son had with one of his teachers yesterday. </p><p>He and a small group of other students were pulled out of class for a surprise recognition and treat for being standouts to one of their teachers this year. </p><p>His teacher wrote them all individual letters and read them out loud about how and why they all stood out to him this year. </p><p>My son’s letter was so heartfelt as his teacher detailed his best attributes and examples of him being the “epitome of a role model” but it was his teacher’s words at the end that really choked me up. </p><p>He said, “Thanks for being a ‘why’ for me this year. You were definitely a major reason ‘why’ I loved my job this year, ‘why’ I wanted to come to work, ‘why’ I wanted to do my best for all of you this year! I wish you all the best as you continue your educational journey next year and, in the years to come. I know you will be the reason many teachers are inspired to come to work to be the best they can!” </p><p>Wow! Just wow! Besides the incredible act of expressing his observations and gratitude for them in such a beautiful way, there was something so profound about being told your child is inspiring him in his career. </p><p>My son was beaming last night because he has so much of his own gratitude and praise for this teacher. So, to be recognized by him in such an amazing way is something that he will never forget and I know it will continue to inspire him to always be the best he can be. </p><p>While teaching has faced so many challenges in the last few years, you all still manage to create classrooms full of learning, creativity, enthusiasm, kindness, encouragement, and most of all, inspiration and my son has absorbed it all and thrived this year and every year academically and personally because of it. </p><p>Thank you teachers for choosing this admirable profession and while you are all so good at telling our children their importance, please know your importance to them and me as well. </p>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-47529278869208932912023-05-14T12:03:00.120-04:002023-05-15T23:43:06.033-04:00Happy Mother's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0XAFnumZOPyRafYP3Uvmj26zHLoSAsoOoULCh_qPgPn2DILi91sasAL_L0LUb__0fk0Yf9EHoIFd9VBGYRvcnSj0ShAgCjAjtvJgMcGYptv8BHjnga6ka4R7kBin00q0UndUdP9cHEY_nsqOA5VbjNUXEtAKd8JQotDS_IBjW8E9jxkF6-A2NL9nz/s640/IMG_8358.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="508" data-original-width="640" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0XAFnumZOPyRafYP3Uvmj26zHLoSAsoOoULCh_qPgPn2DILi91sasAL_L0LUb__0fk0Yf9EHoIFd9VBGYRvcnSj0ShAgCjAjtvJgMcGYptv8BHjnga6ka4R7kBin00q0UndUdP9cHEY_nsqOA5VbjNUXEtAKd8JQotDS_IBjW8E9jxkF6-A2NL9nz/w433-h344/IMG_8358.jpg" width="433" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">One of my favorite memories of my greatest joys.</div><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;">To my sons about motherhood:</p><p style="text-align: left;"> It's the ultimate joy and the aching pain,</p><p style="text-align: left;">The warm sunshine and the cold rain,</p><p style="text-align: left;">The lifting up and the crashing down,</p><p style="text-align: left;">The sweetest smile and the inevitable frown,</p><p style="text-align: left;">The loving more than you thought you could,</p><p style="text-align: left;">The doubting yourself more than you should;</p><p style="text-align: left;">It's the liking and not liking what you see,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the being the person you did and did not think you would be, </p><p style="text-align: left;">the absolute yes and the very firm no,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the unexpected yet necessary ebb and flow;</p><p style="text-align: left;">It's the long days but short years,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the sometimes confident and the never-ending fears,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the becoming your own but changing so much,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the less time and more rush,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the constant reminders to give it all you got,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the I’m always here with you until I am suddenly not;</p><p style="text-align: left;">It's the saying less hellos and more goodbyes,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the occasional laughs and the late night cries,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the moving on to bigger and better things,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the watching the excitement when freedom rings;</p><p style="text-align: left;">It's the part of our lives that we hold dear,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the joy, the pain, the excitement, the fear,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the name we are given that we proudly display,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the words of endearment we embrace on Mother's Day;</p><p style="text-align: left;">It's the challenging journey we share until the end,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the I love you, I hate you, I am and I am not your friend. </p><p style="text-align: left;">the I need you more now than I will then,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the but you can count on me to be there no matter when,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the sincerely knowing you will always be my greatest joys,</p><p style="text-align: left;">the because you are forever my precious baby boys. </p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;">Happy Mother's Day! </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-54699729464400141702023-04-28T11:38:00.006-04:002023-04-28T17:21:45.969-04:00No Goodbyes<p><span face="Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 124%; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 17.360001px;">“Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.” ― Rumi.</span></p><p>Death</p><p>I was one month and three days shy of turning 24 when my father died. I had left the hospital to sleep when he passed. I was with him every step of the way through his cancer battle except that moment. That moment in the early hours of the morning when the cancer creeped in one last time and took him away from me without us being able to say, “goodbye.”</p><p>First Crush</p><p>I was totally new to this teenager thing and all that was supposed to come with it when I turned 13. I had a complicated childhood that I thought would make me skip over all the silly milestones of these years, with my first crush being one of them. I was sassy, artsy, and too much for any boy of equal age to handle but it happened. The boy that gave me butterflies in my stomach and saw right through me with those mesmerizing eyes I could barely make contact with. It was a parent’s worst nightmare- the long haired, wrong side of the tracks, destined to be a dropout kind of boy. Oh, that first crush feeling was like no other! It wasn’t love or lust but it was amazing how intoxicating and addictive it felt. Plus, my parents hated it! What teenager didn’t love to piss their parents off anyway?</p><p>Goodbyes</p><p>For the entire year and a half between my dad’s cancer diagnosis and death, we spent endless hours at doctors’ offices, radiation treatments, and hospitals. He talked about whatever he wanted to talk about and I listened with the conversations getting more serious along the way but how and when we were going to say our goodbyes never surfaced even though it was always present in my mind. I don’t know if it was sheer exhaustion or fear of what was going to happen that led me to leave the hospital before he died, but, not getting to say our goodbyes was a scenario I never imagined and it was something that haunted me for years to come. </p><p>Separation</p><p>That wild child that had my full attention and my parents for very different reasons never gave them an opportunity to say, “I told you so!” We spent maybe a summer and not quite a whole school year working to keep the infatuation going but the normal distractions of school and friends eventually separated us as a couple. However, we managed to keep in touch and our encounters of meeting up every now and then lasted for over a decade until he got married and moved away. Every time I saw him, whether it was when we saw each other in traffic, and, pulled over to catch up, or, we met up for dinner, the word, “goodbye” never came out of my mouth when it was over. I always just simply said, “see you later” before I disappeared. He finally asked me one time why I never said ”bye” back and I told him I didn’t like the sound of it. It sounded like I might not see him again but “see you later” always insinuates there will be a next time. He was my first crush and even though there was nothing romantic anymore between us, he would always be special to me and something that I never wanted to end. He understood. He had that soft spot for me too and also stopped saying “goodbye” and started saying,”see you later!”</p><p>Acceptance </p><p>I was never comfortable saying “goodbye” after my father died and my crush taught me that it was perfectly acceptable not to. So, when he left town for good, it made our permanent separation easier. No painful goodbye just a bittersweet see you later. With the ever so popular platforms of the internet and social media being invented since then, we have talked so the “see you later” has been replaced with “talk to you later.” I have accepted, that, although there is no network to connect us to our dearly departed where they can actually communicate back, prayer is a good alternative. Instead of my dad talking and me listening, it is now the other way around.</p><p>See You Later</p><p>Now that I am much older, I have pondered the thought that I was not meant to be there the night my Dad died because it spared my eyes of capturing a memory that would have drowned me in so much sorrow that my heart and soul could not have survived it. Instead, there is no such thing as separation between us because I didn’t have to say “goodbye.” I am not able to have the conversations I once did or make new memories with him, but, I am now content with talking to him and guessing what he would have said and smiling at those precious memories I hold dear. There is no more cancer or treatments or doctors. Just me and him. Still connecting and not feeling so separated until I do see him again when my time comes and, when it does, there will be no goodbyes but just a “see you later” to my loved ones. </p><p><br /></p>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-48287397605489387432023-01-23T15:27:00.004-05:002023-01-23T15:35:31.946-05:00His Bag of Tools<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3k_u5MWEijq_zFe9El9CmJIQoTzMR-9ykGxOOaV1H_PQ5-BTKw-gF5P5ym8gpPziZrRmcj2bOWyKjAaCgqnMGX1F6x4bF6FsVilpLy8lPmcayU2lGmfoDQs5n8yuINFQuEpBj-XZBwkxdWbS5OceDCS5y4u9XSaZEkzzPZe1a25ZbHYbHVxsWlAij/s630/733442.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="630" height="339" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3k_u5MWEijq_zFe9El9CmJIQoTzMR-9ykGxOOaV1H_PQ5-BTKw-gF5P5ym8gpPziZrRmcj2bOWyKjAaCgqnMGX1F6x4bF6FsVilpLy8lPmcayU2lGmfoDQs5n8yuINFQuEpBj-XZBwkxdWbS5OceDCS5y4u9XSaZEkzzPZe1a25ZbHYbHVxsWlAij/w346-h339/733442.jpg" width="346" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My son, after spending only one semester away at his first college, decided to transfer over winter break to another university in a different state. I immediately flooded myself with frustration. Did he not care or remember how we had spent the last year? The entire time consuming and expensive process it took to get him where he was, to now, being told only four months later, that he wanted to not only leave but to do it all over again! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh the difference, I thought, between parents and teenagers. I was like "what about you applying all over the country to select what you told me was the best school for you, or the airline tickets, shipping boxes, rentals cars, food, hotels, school and dorm supplies it took us to get you there?" He was like "I know myself and what I need to do and this is what I need to do."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Well, he had me there. The fact of the matter is he does know himself. He always has, to the point, where I admit, I am a little envious of how he has ALWAYS known who he is and what he wants to be. Since birth might be an exaggeration, but, if we are born with that ability, well, then, after meeting him, you would believe it too. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now, the other part, about how this is what "he needs to do", well, that took a little more convincing. However, that became blatantly obvious too. The school ranking.....literally #1 for his major. Internship possibilities.....yep, better in that department too. Closer to a support system made up of his girlfriend, our close friends, and his mentors, all at an arm's reach vs. being nowhere near anything or anyone familiar to us....yes, add a check mark next to that one too.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So, here we are. Back at again. Airline tickets, hotel, food, dorm and school supplies....you get the picture. After jumping through those same hoops but landing in his new chosen place, we made this transition happen for him. I was weighing in on how his first week went in his new environment and heard all about how his dorm floor mates have rushed in to welcome him and I couldn't help but notice the excitement in his voice about his classes that I never heard before. It made me happy and I peacefully reminded myself of how he is using his bag of tools. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I stumbled across this poem last year and it's strange how its words have been dancing around in my head throughout this whole process with him and how much it has helped me put my mind at ease since my initial freak out: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A Bag of Tools</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Isn't it strange</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">That princes and kings, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And clowns that caper </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In sawdust rings,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And common people </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Like you and me </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Are builders for eternity?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Each is given a bag of tools,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A shapeless mass,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A book of rules;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And each must make-</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ere life is flown-</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A stumbling block</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Or a stepping stone.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">By R.L. Stine (abt 1890)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We are builders for eternity and every phase is a stumbling block or a stepping stone. My son, thankfully, has never seen the blocks, only the stones. These past four months laid the ground work for this moment by giving him the grades and experience he needed to find the next stone. His shapeless mass has indeed taken shape and, although, he is still forming it, he continues to know which rules to follow and what tool to use in life to get him further in the right direction. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So, I am butting out, and, instead, encouraging him to keep building and keep using his bag of tools. I look forward to seeing where this university takes him. There are simply no stumbling blocks for him, and I need to use my bag of tools to break through the frustrations of parenting so I can continue to realize that he is the builder of his eternity, not me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">image credit: http://clipart-library.com/img/733442.jpg</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-49710774689459527212022-12-27T17:22:00.000-05:002022-12-27T17:22:27.963-05:00Un-Resolving for 2023<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTXeCfPHhI5KGbLUp7UlEL9o3B3Pi4igG9EQL__Wnc9xp9qB5uEeMaAUoXfZNu0Swn7AyCS5SUnjlQPsQ2zcSwQ5h5aJ60sotLpsL9AJlcSUbIq9InLAtvFpp1hluzhasb1rq3nMIxM5sLCafH1ontGEtRM685kBiUHRF8g0vPiowkcEy6DMWRy3W1/s574/New-year-clipart-free-clipart-images.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="574" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTXeCfPHhI5KGbLUp7UlEL9o3B3Pi4igG9EQL__Wnc9xp9qB5uEeMaAUoXfZNu0Swn7AyCS5SUnjlQPsQ2zcSwQ5h5aJ60sotLpsL9AJlcSUbIq9InLAtvFpp1hluzhasb1rq3nMIxM5sLCafH1ontGEtRM685kBiUHRF8g0vPiowkcEy6DMWRy3W1/w428-h336/New-year-clipart-free-clipart-images.gif" width="428" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Not gonna lie. 2022 was a mixed year of highs and lows. The highs were sky-high and the lows were very deeply low. So, instead of setting myself up for, quite honestly, any more pressure that I really don't need right now, I've decided there will be no resolutions for me for 2023. </p><p>However, in the lovely spirit of change that every fresh and new year brings, I have decided to graciously recognize it in a somewhat unconventional way. Instead of a Happy New Year, I am happily embracing what I learned in 2022 and carrying it forward with me (without resolution) into 2023:</p><p><br /></p><p>1) Of course, appreciate the ones that have been there for you, but, DEEPLY appreciate those who still check in with you. </p><p><br /></p><p>2) That kindness that you show to others...ALWAYS make sure you show it to yourself. </p><p><br /></p><p>3) It is possible and completely okay to have fond memories of someone you DON'T miss. </p><p><br /></p><p>4) You have done enough for the ungrateful. Dedicate that precious time you waste on them to focus on YOURSELF. </p><p><br /></p><p>So, in the new year spirit, I UNRESOLVE to continue to be deeply appreciative of those who have still remained with me, always show kindness to myself and keep realizing it's not only possible but okay to have fond memories without feeling bad for not missing someone, and most importantly, dedicate time to focus on myself in 2023. </p><p><br /></p><p>What do you graciously recognize for or unresolve to be in 2023?</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>image credit: <a href="https://clipartix.com/new-year-clip-art-image-16206/">New year clipart free clipart images - Clipartix</a></p>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-61136410557861598582022-11-02T12:20:00.011-04:002022-11-15T14:12:36.246-05:00Breathe<p><span face="Lato, sans-serif" style="font-size: 20px;"> The poem, Breathe, by Becky Hemsley</span></p><p><span face="Lato, sans-serif" style="font-size: 20px;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhYkNbAlFMXqAIrY9pSvTSANqxEInzeivMaFfdAAgJAoXOL6dQxDDpG2831i1rwj5gTui5EernxJeA_-LmC3MJ_R0pfky-XCwbz7PXCTX2RzcsP-Y1fbp_jjgmM0eo1_XSyea7mIXDWSiSBq3WsXnea-UqUdwIRdcbJFYt7M3J4JdRGNxuXP3DnrfL/s500/fir-forest-500x500.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhYkNbAlFMXqAIrY9pSvTSANqxEInzeivMaFfdAAgJAoXOL6dQxDDpG2831i1rwj5gTui5EernxJeA_-LmC3MJ_R0pfky-XCwbz7PXCTX2RzcsP-Y1fbp_jjgmM0eo1_XSyea7mIXDWSiSBq3WsXnea-UqUdwIRdcbJFYt7M3J4JdRGNxuXP3DnrfL/w454-h454/fir-forest-500x500.jpg" width="454" /></a></div><br /><span face="Lato, sans-serif" style="font-size: 20px;"><br /></span><p></p><main style="align-items: center; clear: both; display: flex; flex-direction: column; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 20px;"><p class="intro">She sat at the back and they said she was shy,</p><p class="intro">She led from the front and they hated her pride,<br />They asked her advice and then questioned her guidance,<br />They branded her loud, then were shocked by her silence,</p><p>When she shared no ambition they said it was sad,<br />So she told them her dreams and they said she was mad,<br />They told her they'd listen, then covered their ears,<br />And gave her a hug while they laughed at her fears,</p><p>And she listened to all of it thinking she should,<br />Be the girl they told her to be best as she could,<br />But one day she asked what was best for herself,<br />Instead of trying to please everyone else,</p><p>So she walked to the forest and stood with the trees,<br />She heard the wind whisper and dance with the leaves,<br />She spoke to the willow, the elm, and the pine,<br />And she told them what she'd been told time after time,</p><p>She told them she felt she was never enough,<br />She was either too little or far far too much,<br />Too loud or too quiet, too fierce or too weak,<br />Too wise or too foolish, too bold or too meek,</p><p>Then she found a small clearing surrounded by firs,<br />And she stopped...and she heard what the trees said to her,<br />And she sat there for hours not wanting to leave,<br />For the forest said nothing, it just let her breathe.</p><p><br /></p><p><span> </span>I have recently found that one of the most important elements in self-healing is making a conscious choice to let go of any unhealthy relationships that have formed and weighed heavily on you and not allowing yourself to regress back to them. Of course, this sounds way easier to do than it actually is but it is so worth it and the rewards of doing it are immense. </p><p><span> Personally, </span>I was never taught about or encouraged to have self-love, self-respect, and self-worth, and, more so, I never realized how critical it is to find and maintain inner peace. My upbringing was quite sheltered and with the enormous amounts of dysfunction that existed quite steadily my entire childhood, I was always told to hide the trauma or ignore it. In turn, I learned to suppress it and live around it instead of in it. </p><p><span> </span> As I got older, I realized that everyone had a role and it was my part to be the one that took care of others. Luckily, it came naturally to me, but, there was no room for my needs or even my feelings, for that matter, when I was done taking care of the rest of them. The more I spoke, the less they listened. However, all along the way, I listened to them. I heard and felt every word. I heard, loud and clear, the constant nit-picking and criticism and I felt, always deeply, that no matter what I did it was never enough. I took, what I thought, was the easy way out and I became and remained the girl they wanted me to be as best as I could. I would pick and choose my battles wisely and be the glue that kept it all together all the while sacrificing bits and pieces of myself along the way. </p><p><span> It took longer than it should have to where I am now.....</span>This place of not taking the easy way out anymore, and, instead, evaluating and redefining what is acceptable and what is not. So, why now? Well, quite frankly, it has happened because I let it go too far and allowed myself to get to a horrible point where it had to be done or there was literally going to be nothing left of me. So, here I am. Choosing the hard path to get to self-healing, facing it all head-on, committing to not looking back, only forward, and telling it all here to encourage others to do the same.</p><p><span> </span>Growing accustomed to toxic patterns in relationships is never a good thing. We know this, but, breaking out of an unhealthy cycle and the discipline it takes to not return to it is hard. The guilt, criticism, and hurtfulness slung at you when you start to advocate for yourself can be suffocating but I promise you can breathe through it and retain control of the progress you are making. Find your clearing, stay as long as you need to, turn off those people, embrace the silence, and just breathe. </p><p><span> </span>Empowering myself is foreign to me so beginning this whole journey I am now on of self-awareness and the realization of how my sanity and serenity need to take priority asap, has been difficult. However, clearly explaining the problem, stepping back and out of the relationships for as long as I have needed to, and only opening new conversation that is based on my terms, has been AMAZING! For the first time in my life, I have healthy control over not giving in to the constant pull of enabling that bound me and the purpose of how I can serve others is no longer the whole basis of my relationships with toxic people anymore. </p><p><span> </span>It doesn't matter what you have always been told. If age, experience, or common sense hasn't freed you by now, then, please learn to listen to yourself. Realize your worth, say your dreams out loud, and ask what is best for you? Find your forest, hear the wind whisper, listen to the trees, and dance with the leaves. It will tell you "You can do this! You are worth it! But first, just breathe!"</p><p><br /></p><p><span face=""Open Sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-size: 25px;">Fir forest Painting Credit:</span></p><ul class="list-unstyled" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: "Open Sans", sans-serif; font-size: 12px; list-style: none; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px;"><li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Artist: <a href="https://www.chinaoilpaintinggallery.com/famous-artists-shishkin-c-141_1441" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #337ab7;">Ivan Shishkin</a></li><li style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">Categories:</span> <a href="https://www.chinaoilpaintinggallery.com/art-subject/landscape-painting-ify-100" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #337ab7; outline-offset: -2px; outline: -webkit-focus-ring-color auto 5px;">Landscape painting</a>, <a href="https://www.chinaoilpaintinggallery.com/art-subject/tree-painting-ify-106" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #337ab7;">Tree painting</a>, <a href="https://www.chinaoilpaintinggallery.com/art-subject/landscape-painting-ify-100/forest-painting" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #337ab7;">Forest painting</a>,</li><li style="box-sizing: border-box;">Product Code: ivan shishkin 100</li></ul><p>Image link: <a href="https://www.chinaoilpaintinggallery.com/famous-artists-shishkin-c-141_1441/fir-forest-p-36167" style="display: inline;">Fir forest - Shishkin - oil painting reproduction - China Oil Painting Gallery</a></p><div><br /></div></main>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-45363688120569784942022-09-01T10:06:00.101-04:002022-09-09T10:40:36.705-04:00Happy Almost Fall Y'All<p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60G1LGL77SJfB3aXMaqx7npnnU5wwySJBsqwQrq6_NQpI1zJvGW1IQEGPrzs7ATqhizOvUa8zMNevTh_HHgUfNWNoJPfhqtDaaPeuOejcUVo2U5nH7o72UXHoNVFptRJj9-XV8b7v4l0pgAaIYXQvaUpSPpLNInGxXSnaTpWHHmJbEseBzkWkDaZW/s800/hello-september-hand-lettering-calligraphy-97518438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60G1LGL77SJfB3aXMaqx7npnnU5wwySJBsqwQrq6_NQpI1zJvGW1IQEGPrzs7ATqhizOvUa8zMNevTh_HHgUfNWNoJPfhqtDaaPeuOejcUVo2U5nH7o72UXHoNVFptRJj9-XV8b7v4l0pgAaIYXQvaUpSPpLNInGxXSnaTpWHHmJbEseBzkWkDaZW/s320/hello-september-hand-lettering-calligraphy-97518438.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>"And then the sun took a step back, the leaves lulled themselves to sleep, and Autumn was awaked." Raquel Franco</p><p><br /></p>Oh! It's September! Now we're talking! A big hello to my gorgeous and golden month where I feel like I am FINALLY getting somewhere! September 1st is my day people. The day when I let my mind start easing into the comforting thought that the relentless heat of Summer will be taking a much-needed break soon. I know, I know.....I live in Florida....too soon, but, it's a mind game with me. I see the temperatures elsewhere beginning to drop, and I hear the advertisements for all things pumpkin-related beginning, and this sweaty girl starts to perk up. If a Pumpkin Latte and turning the A/C down in September to pretend it's cooler already makes me happy, then don't you dare judge me. Instead, just play along and sweetly say "Happy Almost Fall y'all" and join me in a happy and healthy dose of some pumpkin-overloaded bliss and the wonderful notion that cooler weather is on its way. <p></p>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-87948640296607457342022-04-16T15:30:00.007-04:002022-04-16T23:02:51.582-04:00Is there anyone home? <p><br /></p><div><span face="Roboto, Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #4d5156;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span face="Roboto, Helvetica Neue, Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #4d5156;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;"> Hello? (Hello? Hello? Hello?) </span></div><p><span face="Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;"> Is there anybody in there? </span><br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-family: Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face="Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;"> Just nod if you can hear me </span><br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-family: Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face="Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;"> Is there anyone home?</span><span face="Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;">…</span></p><p><span face="Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></p><p> The blogosphere can be a crowded and, yet, lonely place at times. There are tons of blogs on every topic imaginable but you have to venture outside of your own blog and look around to find them. </p><p> When I first started blogging 13 years ago, I was automatically drawn to the creativity and freedom to share anything and everything I wanted to. It never really occurred to me that anyone would actually read any of it until someone would pop up on my blog and leave a comment. It fascinated me that not only was I laying down my thoughts but so many others were too and they wanted to talk to me about it. Soon, I started interacting on a regular basis with many other bloggers and it was nice having such constructive conversations with them. </p><p> However, as the years have gone by, that interaction I had with other bloggers doesn’t happen much anymore. We all shared a passion for writing and there was something always refreshing about connecting with each other’s thoughts, but, the blogs I followed started slowing down until they drifted off completely. </p><p> While I have continued to write, I do feel that inner longing for interaction and sometimes miss the excitement of seeing a comment posted on one of my entries. </p><p> I know the blogosphere is still a crowded place with new and fresh bloggers out there. So, it may be time to reach out and connect with a different group but I still hope to see some of the old ones resurface. </p><p> It leaves me wanting to sing the beginning of Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd as I click on blogs I used to follow and see they still haven’t posted anything in years. “<span face="Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;">Hello? (Hello? Hello? Hello?)</span><span face="Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span face="Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;">Is there anybody in there?</span><span face="Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span face="Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;">Just nod if you can hear me. </span><span face="Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;">Is there anyone home?</span><span face="Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;">…” </span></p><p><span face="Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;">Maybe one day I’ll get a nod. If not, I hope they are still finding creative outlets. Meanwhile, I am happy that the blogosphere is still mine, even if it feels a little more lonely than crowded at times. </span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;"> </span></p></div>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-63626779854108724662022-03-25T09:18:00.005-04:002022-04-16T14:47:04.600-04:00And Another One Bites the Dust<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCB9OzDe9ioWAmyAFKxZPTHW_UuHBqP-zYeg6fsyLmpZOViF4YcmICCfon89auDauoPxDedIzAvNjLc3HfUNwo0kgW_hxn_R12ZaOHihl88a4UZgYvh3XmPdla1hJTJWBSEsQV8yF6Ucz2PhMLZf82dthOoMWJlCwenL2z50kfF4LgQ-bXvE0VMoBq/s1600/excavator-breaking-house-old-building-demolishing-panoramic-image-excavator-breaking-house-old-building-demolishing-234816565.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="1600" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCB9OzDe9ioWAmyAFKxZPTHW_UuHBqP-zYeg6fsyLmpZOViF4YcmICCfon89auDauoPxDedIzAvNjLc3HfUNwo0kgW_hxn_R12ZaOHihl88a4UZgYvh3XmPdla1hJTJWBSEsQV8yF6Ucz2PhMLZf82dthOoMWJlCwenL2z50kfF4LgQ-bXvE0VMoBq/w547-h287/excavator-breaking-house-old-building-demolishing-panoramic-image-excavator-breaking-house-old-building-demolishing-234816565.jpg" width="547" /></a></div><br /><p><span> </span>Like it or not, Florida is drastically changing. Any given morning, when you are sitting on your porch trying to listen to the birds and enjoy your coffee, the overbearing sound of bulldozers crushing mid-century houses to heaps of rubble around you will surely drown the morning bliss you were trying to achieve. Instead, you will hear the booming, beeping, crashing, and thudding that replace the chirping, singing, pecking, and squawking you came outside for. </p><p><span> </span>Some will say throwback to 1956 when these Florida homes were built on the same land where orange groves used to stand. Did people get upset about our beloved oranges being destroyed so others could live out their dream of being in beautiful, hot, and sunny Florida all year round? </p><p><span> </span>Fast forward to now, where it is not so much about fulfilling a dream of living in a tropical paradise as it is more about an escape to live here for its lower taxes, retirement benefits, and no Covid restrictions. </p><p><span> </span>Every day, they come from other states in droves hoping to scoop up one of these little mid-century homes to knock down and build over so they can squeeze themselves into their great escape in their brand new mini-mansions.</p><p><span> </span>Meanwhile, we little folks who actually live in these undesirable homes placed on their valuable properties, still want to listen to birds and enjoy coffee without having to look at their out-of-town plates slowing driving by and staring at us like hungry vultures. </p><p><span> </span>As I sit here this morning painfully listening to another one bite the dust, it makes me sad knowing that another oversized and ugly square box will be squeezed onto yet another lot while that Florida dream that built the now erased mid century home is also being crushed along with it. </p>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-83047376620347879272021-10-28T10:11:00.005-04:002021-10-30T14:38:54.437-04:00No More; No Less.<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-As0D4he8feQ/YXqi9_cBZjI/AAAAAAAAA4I/IcYfFO-kNvQXerr9jjLQPjAxMPKg2rK_ACLcBGAsYHQ/s735/efb8c6d8f173d4f0e7d89fb34bd00f3e.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="556" data-original-width="735" height="303" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-As0D4he8feQ/YXqi9_cBZjI/AAAAAAAAA4I/IcYfFO-kNvQXerr9jjLQPjAxMPKg2rK_ACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h303/efb8c6d8f173d4f0e7d89fb34bd00f3e.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span> </span>It occurred to Pooh and Piglet that they hadn't heard from Eeyore for several days, so they put on their hats and coats and trotted across the Hundred Acre Wood to Eeyore's stick house. Inside the house was Eeyore. "Hello Eeyore," said Pooh. "Hello Pooh. Hello Piglet," said Eeyore, in a glum sounding voice. “We just thought we'd check in on you," said Piglet, "because we hadn't heard from you, and so we wanted to know if you were okay." </p><p><span> </span>Eeyore was silent for a moment. "Am I okay?" he asked, eventually. "Well, I don't know, to be honest. Are any of us really okay? That's what I ask myself. All I can tell you, Pooh and Piglet, is that right now I feel really rather sad, and alone, and not much fun to be around at all. Which is why I haven't bothered you. Because you wouldn't want to waste your time hanging out with someone who is sad, and alone, and not much fun to be around at all, would you now?"</p><p><span> </span>Pooh looked at Piglet, and Piglet looked at Pooh, and they both sat down, one on either side of Eeyore in his stick house. Eeyore looked at them in surprise. "What are you doing?" "We're sitting here with you," said Pooh, "because we are your friends. And true friends don't care if someone is feeling sad, or alone, or not much fun to be around at all. True friends are there for you anyway. And so here we are." "Oh," said Eeyore. "Oh." And the three of them sat there in silence, and while Pooh and Piglet said nothing at all; somehow, almost imperceptibly, Eeyore started to feel a very tiny little bit better. Because Pooh and Piglet were there. No more; no less.</p><p>(Story and Photo Credit: A.A. Milne, E.H. Shepard)</p><p><span> </span>Some days, I am a fearless warrior. Other days, I am a big hot mess. Most days, I am both. Regardless of the days, though, I am always tackling it, either way or both ways, by myself. I have had Poohs and Piglets before, but, due to many hardships over the years, I have buried myself so deep in my own One Hundred Acre Wood that they would not be able to find me. However, I know they are not looking for me anymore and I know the reason for that. I used to let them sit with me and I used to sit with them when they needed it. But, somehow, I got to the point where my burdens felt like they were too much to share and I retreated. I thought I was doing the right thing. I only wanted to weigh myself down and not them but, by not letting them be there for me, now I know that my actions also inadvertently caused me to not be there for them. </p><p><span> </span>Mental health is a strange mixed bag. It’s filled with courage and fear. Confidence and self doubt. Hope and despair. Togetherness and isolation. We all have one, and, yet, we still choose to either show it, share it, hide it, or act like it’s not even there. My mixed bag is hidden in my One Hundred Acre Wood where it will never be found by anyone else but me. It is right next to my stick house where every stick that shelters me represents one heartache or another I have not dealt with properly. It’s a pretty big stick house. </p><p><span> I am currently </span>facing another hardship, and, since it involves a loved one, I clearly know I cannot hide in my stick house this time. So, I am doing my very best to put the heartache it is causing me aside, and be the Pooh or Piglet this person needs right now. Although, everyday, I am fighting the urge to retreat back to the wood, make sure my bag is hidden, and add another stick to my house. </p><p><span> </span>I realize, through supporting her right now, the importance of helping others to maintain their mental health, and, when you can’t do it alone, you need to let your Poohs and Piglets in to support you. If you can’t totally show or share with them your mixed bag, that’s okay. Just don’t hide it or act like it’s not even there. For now, simply allow them to find you, sit with you, and be there for you. No more, no less, until YOU are ready to knock down your stick house, leave your One Hundred Acre Wood, and take your mixed bag with you. </p><p> #mentalhealth #mixedbag #stickhouse #I'llsitwithyouandbeyourpoohorpiglet #friendship #fighttheurge #nomorenoless</p>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-61413460889669305062021-08-22T13:43:00.016-04:002021-08-22T19:28:18.642-04:00I Love ___ (My Tom T. Hall Tribute)<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--6enkRoA3I4/YSLWq0VDqII/AAAAAAAAA3k/5HQG-GH9jIElcTWMGOsxfyAJR9JLXPv6QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1200/tom_t_hall.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="1200" height="203" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--6enkRoA3I4/YSLWq0VDqII/AAAAAAAAA3k/5HQG-GH9jIElcTWMGOsxfyAJR9JLXPv6QCLcBGAsYHQ/w387-h203/tom_t_hall.jpg" width="387" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I just found out the "The Storyteller" died this past Friday. Since the beloved Tom T. Hall poetically shared with us what he loved in his song, "I Love," I decided I would share things too that I love as a tribute to him. I am no Tom T. Hall but I adore this song enough to put myself out there for him as he always did for us. So, here it goes:</p><p><br /></p><p>I love fireflies flickering in the dark, slowly strolling through the park</p><p>Ice cream on a hot afternoon, and the moon</p><p>I love owls hooting into the night, children giggling with delight</p><p>The smell of coffee in the morning, and exploring</p><p>And I love you too</p><p><br /></p><p>I love walking barefoot in the grass, remembering loved ones that have passed</p><p>Art that speaks to me, and the sea</p><p>I love classic muscle cars, bands that play in bars</p><p>Clouds that look like shapes, and grapes</p><p>And I love you too</p><p><br /></p><p>I love when a good song comes on the radio, lazy days when there is nowhere </p><p>you have to go,</p><p>A candlelit church on Christmas Eve, and trees</p><p>I love a cool breeze on an Autumn day, when things just seem to go your way</p><p>Dragonflies gliding through the sky, and pie</p><p>And I love you too Mr. Hall</p><p><br /></p><p>Photo credit: <a href="https://www.rickyskaggs.com/sites/rickyskaggs.bombplates.com/files/tom_t_hall.jpg">tom_t_hall.jpg (1200×630) (rickyskaggs.com)</a></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-85717697552140731132021-08-19T14:26:00.003-04:002021-08-20T12:04:57.836-04:00To Mask Or Not To Mask? That Is The Question.<p> </p><p><span> </span>17 months. It has been 17 months since this pandemic started. Remember flatten the curve? Then, wear a mask, socially distance, hand sanitize. Remember all that? Oh, and, of course, don't forget to step right up and get your vaccine. Pfizer, Moderna, J&J....whichever one you want, just get it. So, yeah, where are we at now after 17 months of all of this? I'll tell you where we are at.....worse than where we were 17 months ago even after all these guidelines and vaccines were applied. How can that be? Well, that's a good question. Let me see if I can help you figure that out. Of course, I can only give you what I see from my neck of the woods but I'm in Florida so...Yes, I said Florida, and I can hear your reaction loud and clear. <span> </span></p><p><span> </span>We here in Florida, think (good time to say I don't think this, by the way) we don't have to wear masks anymore. So much so, that we just sent our kids back to school during a HUGE (yes, that big that it needs to be capitalized) surge of the Delta Variant (which might I add is more contagious and widespread to all ages than the Alpha version of Covid 19) because, well, simply put, we are Florida. </p><p><span> </span>Now, two weeks after sending said kids to school without making masks mandatory, we (being the school boards) are having emergency meetings to discuss if we were maybe a little too naive in our decisions since staff and students are testing positive and/or being quarantined left and right AND the schools are understaffed AND the students at home have been cut off from a virtual option since we didn't need that either anymore. In their defense, our fearless leader, Governor Desantis, has threatened to cut off funds to school districts if they go against his optional mask approach to our school year. However, some districts like Hillsborough County who have over 10,000 students and staff quarantined in just one week have decided to face the consequences and go against him given the numbers they are facing. </p><p><span> </span>So, as I sit here on the eve of our own school district deciding to mask or not to mask, I feel pissed. We did our part the whole way through. We masked, socially distanced, used hand sanitizer, and those of us eligible, all got vaccinated. We even went beyond that by homeschooling last year and forgoing sports and extracurricular activities. So, with our virtual option removed, I voluntarily masked up my kids as they returned to school and urged them to be as careful as possible, while I have sat back and watched the shit show unfold from home. I am so disgusted with Florida. In our bold attempt to be the land of freedom where no restrictions exist, we have created a hot spot where not only the students and staff are caught in the crossfire, but, the hospitals and medical teams are spread so thin that they can't keep up with the positive cases either. </p><p><span>Yes, plenty will argue, and trust me, they seem to love to, that we don't need masks if we are vaccinated. Well, we do. We all do because the unvaccinated are the highest percentage in the hospitals and we are around them. So, if we can't convince everyone to get vaccinated, then, we are all back to wearing masks since the rate of infections is so high again. The vaccine is not your bulletproof vest so you can still catch it and spread it and that is not a risk I am willing to take being around children that are not eligible to have the vaccine and are now more susceptible to the Delta Variant. I care too damn much about my young child and yours for that matter to not do my part right now as should you. So, once again, to mask or not to mask? That is the question. My answer (in my most frustrated and loud voice ever because this should not even be a question given the rate of infection right now): Yes, wear your f*cking mask (and if you really want to help...get your vaccination too) so this doesn't go on for another 17 months!</span><br /></p>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-15868188646803133562021-08-01T14:02:00.000-04:002021-08-19T13:31:00.709-04:00When Your Social Battery Runs Out...Poof!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hNJhvT-bdqw/YLpgEO3R7aI/AAAAAAAAA0o/gAmL5qqWLYEWJCb5uKjY_B4UUM2Mr1DjQCLcBGAsYHQ/s814/A693D51F-FF3B-4268-B1C2-1604A9D4B0F6.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="755" data-original-width="814" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hNJhvT-bdqw/YLpgEO3R7aI/AAAAAAAAA0o/gAmL5qqWLYEWJCb5uKjY_B4UUM2Mr1DjQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/A693D51F-FF3B-4268-B1C2-1604A9D4B0F6.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> I wish it was just as easy to disappear in real life as it is on social media....poof, I’m gone. Shut down and activate recharge. If only, it was that simple! After a very difficult period, I’ve needed to take care of the introvert in me because, as the comic strip perfectly explains it, my social battery has been drained so much that even writing has not been a sufficient enough outlet for me. With that said, I have not totally lost my mind either and I know I can’t let myself poof and disappear forever. I have an inner voice too and it keeps whispering, “You need to write.” So, here, I am, again, doing what I do when I need to do it. <p></p><p>Self preservation is so necessary for me. I need silence so I can hear my thoughts and what they are trying to tell me. Then, I need stillness, so my mind can rest. Finally, and most importantly, I need distance so my body and soul can renew themselves and find their way again. This cycle, luckily and quite beautifully, comes naturally to me. However, finding the space and time it takes, has not. </p><p>The pandemic and its ripple effect has created such a haze around me that I have not been able to disconnect long enough to heal so I can return to the fight. Instead, I have allowed it to cut much deeper than I usually would and now there is no bandage large enough to hide it. So, it’s either amputate it and let it all go or save it and figure out how to fix it. My indecisiveness has caused me to poof and disappear but my inner voice, that nagging little bitch that she is, has taken my magical poof button away, and is making me choose. Should I cut my losses or should I put on my thinking cap and pull myself out? </p><p>If you are waiting for an answer, just stop reading and leave now. I’m not quite there yet. But I will tell you where I am currently....I am here and this is exactly where I need to be....for now. </p><p><br /></p>Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-47342266776688949212020-07-01T12:03:00.000-04:002020-07-10T12:26:37.116-04:00Jumanji: The Next Level<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C_JmxFtGXTc/Xwhq1wzIq-I/AAAAAAAAAvg/IcAVL-L9K20dRe9Zwq0Ck35JooGOcHLOgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/3017247b-c22c-4a5f-97f1-52773aba1de9-screen-shot-2019-07-01-at-95905-am.jpe" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="415" data-original-width="800" height="206" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C_JmxFtGXTc/Xwhq1wzIq-I/AAAAAAAAAvg/IcAVL-L9K20dRe9Zwq0Ck35JooGOcHLOgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/3017247b-c22c-4a5f-97f1-52773aba1de9-screen-shot-2019-07-01-at-95905-am.jpe" width="400" /></a></div>
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July 1st: Level 7: Congratulations! You have made it to the next level of Jumanji.<br />
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That's how it's starting to feel when we make it through another month of this dreadful year we are all having. Above are the expressions we all make when we lift our phones and sign onto social media to see what new challenges the day is bringing as if all the other ones up until this point weren't enough. So far, we've had a global pandemic called COVID-19 which has brought us daily reports of newly infected cases and death tolls. It has altered everything! The way we socialize, shop, educate our children and live. The mask has become the new bra...They are uncomfortable but you have to wear them in public or everyone notices you are not. However, people still refuse to even though it has been recommended and in some locations mandatory. We don't argue about the benefits of bike helmets, life jackets, or sunscreen, but we argue about masks?? Doesn't make sense people! Just wear a damn mask!<br />
Then, we have had murder hornets. Yes, hornets that commit murder...well, kind of. They are large Asian hornets which generally don't attack people but bees, and, yet, we have managed to give them a scary name and exaggerated their size. Why? Because we can and it is just another way to perpetuate fear in a time when everyone is already fragile. Also, did you know flushing drugs down the toilet can create hyper-aggressive alligators? Oh yes! Meth gators. It's a thing too. Oh 2020, what are we going to do with you? It's too much for one year. You should have spaced it out, but, let's keep going...<br />
There were videos released by the U.S. Department of Defense showing unidentified flying objects maneuvering around Navy pilots. UFOs! E.T., Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Independence Day! Hollywood loves this shit and so do we, but, believe it or not, no one really seemed to even care. Are we so drained by the pandemic that something as potentially amazing as the possibility of real extraterrestrials, not the movie kind we are used to, visiting us and the government actually acknowledging it, doesn't even faze us? Well, that seems to be the case as it's 15 minutes of fame was short-lived and already tucked away. Come on, people, they were airborne heat-emitting objects without wings performing aerodynamics that no known aircraft can achieve and we are not intrigued or even impressed? Well, I'm personally disappointed in you all. It could have been an amazing discovery or at least a really good and much-needed distraction at this time.<br />
Okay, point made and I'll move on. Another passerby that made the news...The giant Godzilla dust known as the Saharan Dust Cloud made its way to us this summer. Like the murder hornets, hugely exaggerated by the media, but it did happen. I didn't see anything different personally, but another good headline to add to the list.<br />
In other news, Kim Jong-un was reported dead then not dead, Prince Harry walked away from the British monarchy and became a commoner like the rest of us, Bernie felt the bern and dropped out of the presidential race leaving us with "Sleepy Joe" Biden as the contender against "The Donald."<br />
And last but certainly not least. A video showing a police officer using excessive force against a black man named George Floyd and how his death has unleashed a wave of Black Lives Matter protesting and riots across our already divided country.<br />
Let's be honest, we live in a world where more people are interested in Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston speaking to each other at an awards ceremony than the out of control fires in Australia back in January (which I don't even know what happened to since we rolled into this haze of coronavirus monopolizing our news) People would seriously rather talk about the Tiger King and if Carol totally killed her husband than a dead whale being found in the middle of the Amazon rain forest so I don't have much faith in our society to mend and heal from the real issues we should be dealing with.<br />
As much as I would love to throw a turkey in the oven, string a few lights, and open a few presents and call it a year, it's not that easy and I'm not sure it should be either. Maybe we need to see 2020 as an opportunity for our society to rethink, change, and grow. We have all had to process and adapt to the same issues but how we do it, whether on our own or together, could write the next chapter to this ongoing story we are living in and leaving behind to the future. For example, we can remove flags and statues all day but unfortunately, that will not remove the ignorance or hate inside of someone. We need to change minds not history right now. Do we want to be remembered as the most heated groups of blacks vs whites, democrats vs republicans, mask wearers vs non-mask wearers, do you catch my drift? I would like to see it end with a period that reflected perseverance, compassion, and development other than an exclamation full of negligence, indifference, and instability. I guess what I'm trying to say is less talk, more listening. Either way, we are on the next level together but will we make it to the next one if we don't stop fighting and pulling ourselves together (while wearing your mask and staying 6 feet apart of course!) and forming some real communication and progress other than adding to the daily bombardment of challenges? You may think the choice is yours, but, the answer you come up with becomes everyone's answer so choose wisely, and keep in mind, we still have 5 more levels to go.Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-47939923179114116002020-04-06T20:05:00.000-04:002020-04-06T20:05:12.691-04:00Coronavirus 2020: The Global BurdenI finished my last post unplugging from social media to find a simpler, kinder, and less distracted life that I had been craving. Boy, what a difference a few months can make! News of the coronavirus had been circling around on the news feeds even then, but, it had been confined to China. Then, Italy....Spain.....etc....then, suddenly Washington. Wait, what, Washington!?! That's when it hit me.... This is not like something my generation has seen before! In a short time, this became not just a country's burden but a global burden.<br />
So, my planned hiatus has been put on the back burner as I have found it virtually impossible to keep up with the latest news by not partaking in social media. As we all social distance, quarantine, wear masks, limit essential shopping, endlessly wash and bathe our hands in soap and sanitizer, virtual school our kids, watch mass on youtube, facetime our family and friends, and maneuver through the endless amounts of fact vs. myth, statistics, memes, press conferences, and local-national-global news, what are we doing so we don't lose our minds over this overwhelming amount of daily pandemic chaos?<br />
For me, I created my "save my sanity" spot where I can escape outside, drink out of my favorite coffee mug, listen to the birds, enjoy my tropical garden, and remind myself, oh yeah, it is Springtime! It is my place to "Bee Happy" as my pillow suggests, delve into sights, colors, tastes, and sounds that make me happy, and most importantly, have a couple of minutes each day to peacefully remember what I am still grateful for through this highly unusual time. Creating this space that inspires and reflects me has truly been my saving grace. It comforts me and re-energizes me when I return back into the coronavirus lifestyle we have become necessarily accustomed to. What are you doing for your own mental health or well being through this time?<br />
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My "save my sanity" spot:<br />
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KeSUWwDMqrI/Xou4uHap-OI/AAAAAAAAAuA/uGjN_-YFhoA5NCtYS6oqduoCRjkAVRo-wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_8143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></a><br />
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My Springtime tropical view:<br />
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My favorite coffee mug:<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qcdNIKm7DXI/Xou4xzK28WI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/UKUd7D2Y4h8XJLUb5TDAmx6hj52QkwGpQCEwYBhgLKs0DAMBZVoDtepuKdu7_zBbShaPPcFsRQHdkEHR0WjtGoLJgyvTCjvBz3nNDL7Oco6jkv0Qo6p02UaNzqObpcCjVulSU65o6fUO0GPzhL_tajBasj4qsGrUAAkKwKaWUqNdqikvGVeTjmv3gYqQbVJ5HXM7zO3f7Dw5BQ20euzkBvs7WVXTGpg8TSJVxKr-roEv6zMGv3AsjT5nibsyKTOaFBEkqAd_n9njwwVNFbkGwSC5Lwy1-YjZljo_2yLmPnBWMeSl9lln2kht2Vugjl6FbuPEtEVZ_9EBRC2D6Qc5XtRF4Hnb56dShj35mJqXe2FuXG3InEq1xUZ3w4zcQpkEZqasfyoqiA797co55yeYS2fqah8txR1WYgxfmWH7Z_dqYearEF232XlmW7GgRvbXUjLPa60Ovk3PLizbtfdaQ8UYGRR4azYQg860gFvuoE5d24XfkYnQ6iSecPaK9pbecQ52mlw32MQyR-R-fuK-XgSMgt_uaz3cUT52zHgzh16nJmqPnEe3jSsofQ-ndN17wziHkrAZqDjgwZ1iIN-4FHLBrS2vij6jafME60Y-c-0o52biGPiwb0c7sWO4MRzeF6pSD_uC-Xf3LqzIMbKow84Wv9AU/s1600/IMG_8387.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qcdNIKm7DXI/Xou4xzK28WI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/UKUd7D2Y4h8XJLUb5TDAmx6hj52QkwGpQCEwYBhgLKs0DAMBZVoDtepuKdu7_zBbShaPPcFsRQHdkEHR0WjtGoLJgyvTCjvBz3nNDL7Oco6jkv0Qo6p02UaNzqObpcCjVulSU65o6fUO0GPzhL_tajBasj4qsGrUAAkKwKaWUqNdqikvGVeTjmv3gYqQbVJ5HXM7zO3f7Dw5BQ20euzkBvs7WVXTGpg8TSJVxKr-roEv6zMGv3AsjT5nibsyKTOaFBEkqAd_n9njwwVNFbkGwSC5Lwy1-YjZljo_2yLmPnBWMeSl9lln2kht2Vugjl6FbuPEtEVZ_9EBRC2D6Qc5XtRF4Hnb56dShj35mJqXe2FuXG3InEq1xUZ3w4zcQpkEZqasfyoqiA797co55yeYS2fqah8txR1WYgxfmWH7Z_dqYearEF232XlmW7GgRvbXUjLPa60Ovk3PLizbtfdaQ8UYGRR4azYQg860gFvuoE5d24XfkYnQ6iSecPaK9pbecQ52mlw32MQyR-R-fuK-XgSMgt_uaz3cUT52zHgzh16nJmqPnEe3jSsofQ-ndN17wziHkrAZqDjgwZ1iIN-4FHLBrS2vij6jafME60Y-c-0o52biGPiwb0c7sWO4MRzeF6pSD_uC-Xf3LqzIMbKow84Wv9AU/s1600/IMG_8387.jpg" /></a></div>
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Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-46314030470058493072020-01-11T16:10:00.000-05:002020-01-11T16:14:30.880-05:00The Reset Button<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DolysHAWXlc/XhoL4jxNwYI/AAAAAAAAAtY/Zz-zdRYMvpcIH0CgE-DUc3_68FoY5snIwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/time-to-hit-the-reset-button.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="267" data-original-width="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DolysHAWXlc/XhoL4jxNwYI/AAAAAAAAAtY/Zz-zdRYMvpcIH0CgE-DUc3_68FoY5snIwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/time-to-hit-the-reset-button.jpg" /></a></div>
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I was recently watching Forrest Gump and one scene in particular kept coming back to me. It was when Lieutenant Dan finally let go of the self loathing which had caused him so much suffering. Then, he simply said thank you to Forrest for saving his life, leaped off the shrimp boat, and gently swam off into the distance while Forrest reflected on how Lt. Dan had made his peace that day.<br />
It would be so much easier if we could hit a reset button rather than having to go through years of self punishment and pain to reach a point of acceptance and healing but life is not that simple.<br />
However, a new year does seem to be the closest thing we have. A new year, a new chance to start over. Even though, realistically, every day is a new day as well but people seem to prefer January 1st as their new beginning.<br />
I openly admit self punishment and pain I am not immune to. Some I have control over. Some I don't. So, the ongoing resolutions that I, and, everyone else for that matter, throw around like: Lose weight, eat healthy, sleep more, drink less alcohol, cut down on stress, blah blah blah.... we just can't accomplish if there is more to it. For some there isn't, but, for a lot, those are only the "surface" problems and you have to work out the underlying stuff first. Then, usually, the rest will follow. So, aim big or small with your resolutions. The choice is yours but choose wisely and make it stick.<br />
This year, I'm going big. My first bold move is I'm going off Facebook. Gasp! I know, daring right!?!<br />
The likes, followers, comments, selfies, what you had for dinner, your political views, if you were a spirit animal which one would you be......if I'm being quite honest. I don't care. I have found it more exhausting than helpful for quite a while now and the time has come to fill those wasted moments with more useful things to do. I want to get back to the more simpler life I enjoyed pre-social media and without the distractions it has created. So, the phone is going down and my camera, art pencils, keyboard, and crossword puzzles are getting dusted off. You can see it as me "unfriending you" but I'm not. Now, we don't have to walk by each other on the sidewalk because we already know everything going on with each other from our "feeds." We might actually talk face to face again. Imagine that!<br />
Secondly, and, most importantly, I'm learning to be kinder to myself. I internalize A LOT which is another reason why I need to dust off my old tools for stress. Sometimes,that inner voice I battle needs an outlet too. So, me and that little voice of mine are getting some much needed TLC.<br />
And that's it but enough for now. So, finger out. Reset Button hit. Here's to a happier, simpler, and less distracted 2020.<br />
<br />Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-30282042860613776912019-03-05T14:21:00.001-05:002019-08-16T09:43:47.031-04:00And the award goes to....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As I scrolled through social media today, I saw several accounts posting photos of their middle school children who made the honor roll. In no way, shape, or form is this post that I am about to write meant to cast any shadow over these children or their accomplishments. I truly looked at all of them with admiration and joy for their proud parents sharing their academic achievements as a representation of how hard each and every one of them have worked to earn this kind of recognition. It takes intelligence, yes, but, it also, takes an even bigger amount of discipline, focus, and commitment, especially, when it is much easier to get side tracked by the distractions and pressures that comes with this age. So, just the simple fact that they found the right path, and, stayed on it should be celebrated even more than these grades.<br />
With that said, my post is to show praise and to cast a light on my child in a way that many, but, not all, out there in my boat don't really seem to share enough. And to the children that deserve so much recognition, but, don't seem to get it because of the way we measure accomplishments in our school system, this post is dedicated to you all as well.<br />
Okay, here I go...Our reality is that our middle school child will probably never share that stage with your honor roll children and we are okay with that. What we are not okay with is instilling him with any kind of nonsense that he does not measure up to society's standards of what deserves recognition though.<br />
There have been many times over the years where he has been the only child in his class that had to go sit in the office while his classmates had been carted off to receive academic awards without him.<br />
There have been many times over the years where children have bragged to him about these awards and pointed out to him that he never receives them.<br />
He has been asked why he goes to the resource room everyday?<br />
He has been asked why he is not really good at talking or listening, or, even school for that matter?<br />
He has had years of his dedication and interest and EVEN his diagnosed and documented language disorder questioned.<br />
Let me make it perfectly clear. In our house, we don't make excuses and he is not allowed to either. He has a mixed receptive and expressive language disorder. What does that mean? It is a communication disorder that neurologically impairs his ability to understand spoken language and to use spoken language to communicate with others. How does that carry over to the classroom? He requires more exposure and repetition to learn new concepts and he struggles to vocalize answers in a way that demonstrates enough proficiency in these concepts. Hence, the resource room, where he is able to receive and review what he is learning at a more individual and manageable pace. It does not effect his intelligence in anyway, just his speech and approach to learning which is something he has greatly improved in as a result of early intervention, therapies, resources, and an incredible support system that has nurtured him with lots of love and encouragement.<br />
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So, when I look at my son and his journey up to this point, I see this:<br />
I see a baby that was more emotional and fearful than others.<br />
I see an insecure toddler that would not attempt to vocalize, and, instead, he would use everything but words to let us know what he wanted and the frustration it caused him when we didn't understand.<br />
I see a pre schooler that was told he was not ready for kindergarten because he had not been able to demonstrate that he could identify his shapes, colors, and letters.<br />
I see a kindergartner that could only speak around 20 words and fell behind quickly as the academic screenings began.<br />
I see a second grader that was retained another year and was told by teachers that he needed to pay attention more.<br />
I see a 3rd grader that had to take the FSA tests like everyone else no matter how overwhelming it was going to be.<br />
I see a 5th grader who had to sit through one final round of honor roll awards at his graduation without his name being called.<br />
I see a child that has had to watch his own brothers excel academically at their own awards ceremonies.<br />
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But you know what I really see:<br />
I see eyes that began to twinkle and the most incredible smile that followed every time he grasped a new concept.<br />
I see a child that never, not even once, has complained about all of the years he has had to go through speech and language therapy, resource rooms, and doctors' offices to assist him with his disorder.<br />
I see a child that has openly told and explained to others about his disorder to educate them without hesitation.<br />
I see every resource teacher and doctor that tell me what a joy he has been to work with.<br />
I see him proudly holding his elementary school diploma in his hands knowing, without being told, how hard he worked to receive it.<br />
I see a child that dreams about being a fire fighter and has never doubted his abilities to learn the trade and do it well.<br />
I see a child that does his best and does not blame or use his language disorder as an excuse for his poor grades.<br />
I see a child that refuses to give in or give up.<br />
I see a child that will be just fine and will do well at whatever he sets out to accomplish.<br />
and, finally, I see a child that has always been told that the best view comes after the hardest climb and he keeps proving it every step of the way.<br />
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You see, in our house, we strive for C's or above for him. Does he always hit the mark? No. Does he hit it sometimes? A lot.<br />
Will there be any kind of awards or recognition for children from the resource room at school? Probably not. Should there be though? Yes. Absolutely.<br />
Until then, my son and I will gracefully, always be happy for others, as they receive their school awards while we celebrate his accomplishments on our own. In turn, my hope is that society learns to broaden our ways that we measure success so it starts getting reflected more in schools and, that we realize on our own, without reading posts like this, that everyone deserves recognition in one way or another.<br />
So, to my resource child and yours out there. Here is your spotlight. This is your praise and recognition that I am sharing: I see you, I see you all, and I have genuinely felt what it is like to be in your world and I get it. I have been in those rooms with you where you have been questioned, examined, tested, and judged. But I have also been in those rooms where you have been taught, challenged, encouraged, and supported. I have seen you walk in deflated and walk out elated. I know you spend everyday starting where you are at, using what you have, and doing what you can to learn and prove it to people but you only have to prove it to yourself. You have to do the climbing. It is your hill and your view. No one else. Congratulations to all of you on your hard work.<br />
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<br />Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-42074871440734971302018-12-10T11:56:00.001-05:002018-12-10T13:02:20.129-05:00Scrooges Beware<br />
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It is starting to become more evident that the holidays are upon us. That wonderful smell of pine is in the air as the Christmas tree lots have popped up, the twinkling Christmas lights are being strung across every neighborhood in town, the UPS trucks are furiously whirling up and down the streets, and the bell ringers hoping to fill their pots have returned to many stores.<br />
Yet, what I call the "dark side of the season" has returned as well. The shops are crowded, the traffic is backed up, the horns are honking, the profanity is swinging, and that heavy and hostile restlessness that only the holidays can bring is back in full swing too. Apparently Bah Humbug has been replaced with Go F*** Yourselves as I have heard it way more than my oh so delicate ears can seem to handle lately. I mean really!?! Come on, people. We can do better than this. Must we push and shove and honk and yell through the season? This is clearly not the way it should be and here is my own personal solution to all of this negative and unnecessary madness.<br />
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Every week, I try to go to church. It is my one whole and sometimes only hour a week where I can reflect, ponder, replenish, and pray. (Yes, mostly in that order) It is like I get to repair and realign myself before crazy Monday rolls around. As I closed my eyes and bowed my head yesterday, I found myself going in a different direction than usual. I thought more about the tension I have been feeling than the joy I am supposed to be filled with this time of year. I mean I am in church surrounded by the real reason for the season, so, I too can do better than this. This is the conclusion I came to for my thoughts and prayers:<br />
I reminded myself to shop small and give more......that a kind gesture or some meaningful quality time is more priceless than anything I can possibly find in a store.<br />
I promised to stay calm and live in the moment instead of getting overwhelmed and distracted by the noise and the crowd. Whether it's a jam packed holiday parade or Santa making his debut at the mall, we are all there for the same reason. However, impatience skews not only our eyes but the perception of what we are trying to experience.<br />
And lastly, I prayed to live in the moment....see the twinkling lights, hear the angelic music, and most importantly, feel the love more than the loss of our loved ones as we cherish Christmas pasts and make our own memories this Christmas and for those to come. What I do now is what will be remembered to others. Leave them with the same quality of memories that I have been left with to cherish.<br />
The true magic is stored in our hearts and we can either add to it or deplete it. It's our choice. This year, I choose to add it. So, scrooges beware.<br />
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Photo Sources:<br />
http://www.picturequotes.com/bah-humbug-quote-18025<br />
http://www.swagbucks.com/?t=i&q=christmas+garlandsMaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-20488333329599295492018-08-14T14:04:00.000-04:002018-08-27T14:07:36.122-04:00Damn you cancer!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I think there can be this common misconception that always putting positive thoughts and actions out into the universe will keep us clear of bad things. Yet, I can't help but notice that some really good people have had to go through a lot of really bad shit making you realize part of life is not fair, no matter what we do.<br />
However, it never ceases to amaze me the strength and perseverance we have as humans to overcome....For every bad thing, we still manage to look for silver linings and, somehow, somewhere, we find them. I've often tried to believe that life is 10% of what happens to us and 90% of how we react to it. When I have had it bad, well, there is always someone that has had it worse, I try and tell myself.<br />
Then, this past May, I noticed a teeny tiny little pinpoint of a spot on my nose that easily bled and wasn't going away. That little spot turned out to be basal cell carcinoma which has robbed me of enjoying my summer with my kids and turned into one dermatologist, one plastic surgeon, two surgeries to remove it all, one surgery to cover the hole that I was left with, and one future surgery to now reconstruct it back into, hopefully, looking like my nose again.<br />
I have had skin cancer before. This is actually my fourth time, so cancer and I are no strangers to each other, but, thankfully, the three others were nothing like this one. If you are wondering how long I had it before I went to the doctor? Not very long at all. I had it biopsied 3 weeks after I first noticed it and removed a month later. I even had a full skin assessment the month before I noticed it but it wasn't visible yet. So, I have always been and was proactive, but, by the time this one surfaced enough for me to see it on the outside, it had already formed a pretty deep and nasty tumor on the inside.<br />
So, back to the 90% of how I can react positively to this depressing and difficult experience. Yes, it was treatable. Yes, it is now gone. Yes, it could have been worse. Yes, I survived you again cancer! However, that other 10%, that allows me to feel sorry for myself, the "why did this happen to me when I try to do everything right?", makes me sit down and look at my nose and think, damn, I've been through a lot of shit and this has definitely been one of them.<br />
They say for every scar, that it proves you are stronger than whatever tried to hurt you; Well, this scar, I'm not quite there yet. It is still very real and raw and not quite done with me, but it will get there too, like the rest of them, and remind me that I did persevere, I did overcome, I did find the silver lining.<br />
<br />Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-16463452261580566192018-07-04T11:33:00.000-04:002018-08-23T11:38:22.641-04:00The True Patriot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Theodore Roosevelt once said, "Patriotism means to stand by the country. It does not mean to stand by the president or any other public official." Yet, when you live in a time when people are so consumed with political strife, does the true patriot manage to see beyond it and still exist?<br />
Every day, our news and social media is flooded with negative reports and remarks about our current government. Our freedom of speech is used to condone the slew of insults being thrown at our president and each other. Then, it turns to everything else. Racism, illegal immigration, breaches of security, environmental concerns....Are our schools safe? Do gun laws need to change? How do you even begin to navigate through these daily (and heavy) doses of scrutiny and maintain your true dedication and belief that this still is the best country to be in?<br />
However, here it is. Our day is upon us. 4th of July, our Independence Day. Our greatest day to be patriots and show our pride. It rolls around every year and we raise up our American flags, we wear our red, white, and blue, we eat our hot dogs and drink our beer, and we gleefully finish our day with fireworks because, for this given day, we are all patriots. We unite to love our country. We show our American pride. We are happy to be here and nowhere else. I put on these flip flops every year and join right in too. Then, it's July 5th, the flags are taken down, the good vibes wear off, and all of the nasty news and mud slinging is back . One day, it is pride in our country together, the next day it is conviction in our beliefs against each other. If we don't believe in freedom of speech for those we intensely dislike or disagree with, is it possible, then we really don't believe in it at all?<br />
Now, don't get me wrong. I am proud to be an American and I have my own set of beliefs that I appreciate being able to voice, but, it is the lack of respect towards our elected officials and each other's beliefs that I truly have a problem with.<br />
Part of my patriotism always flourished with sharing our country in the belief that we lived in a extraordinary place where you didn't have to agree with everyone here, but, you did have to respect what all others thought. To me, our country is a melting pot full of different cultures, traditions, and, yes, beliefs, that make us all different but the same in the desire and success to live here and freely practice around each other and not against each other.<br />
We elect officials. Sometimes we get our way, sometimes we don't, but, contrary to disagreement, they are still your president if you live here and I don't share the belief that if they do not represent our chosen party, it gives us free reign to criticize everything they do. Whether I have voted for them or not, I have supported each and every one of them. I don't have to like them but I do want them to succeed. They succeed, we succeed as a whole.<br />
So, even though, Mr. Roosevelt, gives free reign to separate the two, I do want to be patriotic AND support my government. I want our country to succeed and flourish but I don't believe it can with the way we inundate ourselves every day with such negativity about our country and the issues we face.<br />
We abolished slavery, we put a man on the moon, we are a great country! We have a voice, a powerful voice that is commanding and heard near and far, but, I guess, the question I am asking is how do you use your voice? Do you respectfully speak or do you overwhelmingly shout with it?<br />
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<br />Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-56876607655083345462018-02-12T14:28:00.001-05:002018-02-12T14:28:13.925-05:00Live Laugh LoveLive <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Laugh</span> Love.<br />
I have always considered myself lucky for having what I see as the perfect balance of children.<br />
My oldest child is our intellectual one. He analyzes, debates, and ponders his way through life. He is always thinking, always challenging. He lives large and dreams even bigger.<br />
My youngest child is our joyous one. He lightens our moods, provokes laughter, and provides us with never ending amusement. He has such a happy, imaginative, effortless, and light-hearted approach to life. He brightens even the dullest moments which we are grateful for.<br />
My middle child is the heart of our family. He loves openly and unconditionally, he is patient, he is kind. Simply put, he is a good person and inspires everyone else to be. He is such a treasure and I am so proud of how he demonstrates his true character no matter what the world throws at him.<br />
To the one who reminds me to live, to the one who reminds me to laugh, to the one who reminds me to love....I see it, I get it, I feel it, and I thank you for it.<br />
Sometimes it is not always obvious and we need others to remind us of the things we shouldn't take for granted. I am lucky to have these best three reminders daily.<br />
Live <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Laugh</span> Love.Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195958893287773516.post-34478752219320656482018-01-13T17:26:00.000-05:002018-01-13T19:02:07.636-05:00PlayPlay: verb - engage in activity for enjoyment and recreation rather than a serious or practical purpose.<br />
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Our friends have an annual open house on New Year's Day. It is something we always look forward to as we know we are always guaranteed a relaxed afternoon catching up with old friends, meeting new ones, and enjoying good food and company all in a welcoming atmosphere while we gently ring in the first day of the New Year. The children play, the adults catch up, the potluck is always delicious and plentiful, and we cherish the tradition of pulling out a word out of a container our host provides to help set us on the right direction for the new year.<br />
My word this year was play. Huh, play, I thought. My friend swears with such sincerity that the container is never wrong, like the words find your fingers...instead of us choosing them, they might actually be choosing us. So, play, I'll play along, what are you trying to tell me?<br />
The word itself might initially conjure up children and not adults. A sort of silly and mindless recreation not really thought of for someone my age. So, do you want me to play more with my children? No, I'm immediately thinking that is not it. This word is entirely for me.<i> I need to play</i>. I need to add some play time into my life. Is that it and what does that mean?<br />
Well, it got me thinking, what can that word mean and how it could apply to something I am lacking to the point where this small piece of paper was drawn to my finger tips? So, I started my quest to applying this word to my life this year by looking it up (yes, I actually did and the definition is at the top of the page) and the word in the definition that caught my eye was enjoyment. Play is another word centered around enjoyment and not just recreation. Okay, now I might be onto something!<br />
Something that I have been presently aware of lately is that I center so much of time in making life enjoyable for others that I lack seeking happiness for myself, but, what if I cut others out of the equation, and just focus on myself for a little while today? Could I find some of my own happiness if I stopped entertaining others and played by myself today?<br />
Okay, paper, I committed myself to seeking out play today, not knowing exactly how or when it would surface, but, I will clear sometime for myself to find something enjoyable to do.<br />
Then, surprisingly, the house cleared out. One son went off with his grandmother, the other two went down the street to play with a neighborhood kid, and the hubby left to run errands. Very rare for a Saturday, so I quickly jumped on it and said, "Okay, so play Mary, play."<br />
Hmm, how do I start? Well, I fed my belly with some really good ramen today so why not feed my soul I thought as I gathered my props.<br />
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On went the Sumatra Coffee in the Keurig, up went my Sam Cooke playlist on my phone, and out came the paint and paint brushes from Christmas. </div>
The paint easily flowed on the canvas while I sipped my coffee and, half way through the soothing tune of "Bring It On Home To Me", I had an epiphany and realized how undeniably and blissfully happy I was in that moment. I was thoroughly enjoying this very unusual and long over due break from the norm. I was playing!<br />
Through some dark roast, acrylics, and Sam serenading me, I found my own sweet version of this word called play. This is my word and it did find me and as Sam Cooke would say, "It's been a long,<br />
long time coming but I know change is gonna come." Oh yes, Yes it will, Sam!<br />
So, what if it was your turn to play and feed your soul...What would you do if you had some down time?Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17468794138785214774noreply@blogger.com0