The Work of Parents

Today I had a mom of three come in and chat for a bit.

After chatting it became very obvious that she is starting to get burnt out with all the things she has to do for and with her children. Taking them to practice. Going to games. Helping to fundraise for every event and activity each of her children are in. And to throw into the mix, her husband is gone a lot on travel.

She says, "It's my fault for having so many kids in the first place."

My heart hurt at this.

That's not a fault. Not at all. It's a blessing. And yes, blessings due come in disguises, but that often offers little relief.

Parents can easily feel so helpless when trying to do the best for their children. And saying no to things to try to limit their hectic schedules often leads to guilt.

So the answer?

I don't really know if there is one.

But I do know that if you prioritize, put God in control first, everything else will fall into place.

Fingers crossed.

Tidy Freak

I have become very aware of the fact that I am not a tidy person.

I would consider myself clean though. You know, I take showers regularly, throw the trash out, and put dirty clothes in dirty clothes hampers.

But, not tidy.

I don't usually organize the mail when it comes into the house. I leave piles of paperwork around. I don't put things back where they are supposed to go. To me, that's not dirty. No bugs will be attracted to my piles of papers.

It seems like the majority of my day consists of trying my best to keep things clean AND tidy. And that's a lot of work!

I would just prefer to keep things clean.

My office. My classroom. My car. My house (broken into rooms that need to be clean and tidy).

Whew!

Just the other day I tidied up my office and someone came in to see me and said how great my office looked.

Guess things aren't really considered clean until they are tidied up as well.

Santa's Load

The first Christmas that my husband and I spent together was several years ago.

Now, he bought me a Wii, a Wii fit board, a Goofy stuffed animal, and some other small things. He also took me to Disneyland.

I bought him socks.

But, the reason I bought him socks was because he was soooo out of socks and even started stealing mine to wear. And, I think he has forgotten this, but I also paid for our trip to Vegas just a few weeks before Christmas.

He has held my sock giving over my head ever since.

This year for my birthday, he gave me a door mat.

That's it.

And, yes, I did want a new door mat. He didn't do it to symbolize that he thought I was a door mat, or anything like that, I did ask for it.

But still. Just a door mat? Not even a card?

SO for his birthday on Wednesday I pulled a first Christmas on him. I got him a new PS3, a PS3 game, and three new t-shirts...in response to his door mat.

I hope this makes it even now!

I am so sick of hearing him tell that sock story.

Say what?

Maybe it is because I just had a baby and I am super aware of my weight, but recently my boss has been saying that a new hire is "so petite, so tiny, so little" and for some reason, I am very sensitive to him saying that.

He even mentioned how they were going to have to change things around in the office to accommodate the new hire better because, "she is so tiny."

Now, she isn't a midget. She's regular sized. And, yes, I would say she is thin Smaller than for me sure.

But why keep saying it?

You don't always have to mention someone's weight.

"Well you know, she is so little."

So annoying.

Maybe it is bothering me because my boss keeps pointing out weight issues with me.

I am active in a feeding the hungry ministry and he mentioned how people go into ministries that they are most comfortable with, ie, me fat, equals me in a food ministry.

And he often comments about how he can hear me walking down the hall in my heels - my guess is because I clunk down on the heel point because I am oh-so-fat and disgusting.

He also mentioned once how when he purchased a used vehicle, how he liked that the seats weren't worn out because the previous owner was petite and the seat cushions were saved from the weight of a big ass (okay, that last part I added).

I am being over sensitive, I do so admit.

But it would be nice if it felt like he valued someone's character over their weight instead.

Here Comes The - Blow out

My brother's wedding was last weekend.

I spent months trying to find the perfect dress for me to wear that would match the color scheme, be fancy, and accommodate nursing my son.

I thought I found the dress for me, but when it came and I tried it on, I found that it was not the dress for me, and I had to return it.

The search continued and I found another one that wasn't as good as the first, but good enough, and unfortunately, it was a little over budget. But, I got it anyway because time was running out.

I was so looking forward to my brother's wedding. Was excited to meet his new family.

Come the day of the wedding, I spent time getting ready for it, probably more time than normal. Put my baby in the cutest tuxedo onesie that I bought months before just for this event. Again, spending more than I should have on the outfit.

As soon as we sit down in the church before the ceremony, baby starts to cry and his dad takes him out the remainder of the ceremony. No one gets to see him in his cute little tuxedo.

When the ceremony is over, we go right into picture taking and our side of the family is up first. I take baby from my husband and hold him against my chest. And then it happened.

The largest diaper blow-out we have ever experienced.

Not only was it coming up out of his collar from his neck, it was also seeping through all of his clothes, right onto my dress, which was off-white on top.

I had no choice but to change not only baby, but also myself.

We didn't have back-up wedding clothes. So baby got put into a super casual white onesie with plaid shorts and I put on a black, casual, dress that I had worn the day before.

And we spent the rest of the wedding in that.

My entire day was ruined.

I spent months trying to pick out the cutest outfits for us. Spending way more than I should have on both outfits. And for what?

I was so upset.

So embarrassed.

So frustrated.

I couldn't even enjoy the rest of the night.

Everyone else was in their elegant dresses and here I was in day old clothes.

That is not how I wish to remember my brother's wedding. And I really try to find the laughter in most things, but not this. This totally ruined my day.

Actually, it ruined a couple of days - I am obviously still upset about it.

I really hope that one day I can laugh about this...or hold it over my baby's head, "Remember when you blew out your diaper and made mommy so mad at your uncle's wedding?" - saying that right in front of his date.

But  for right now, it is still pretty crappy!

Change of Pace

After having my baby, I have become aware that my lifestyle has changed! (Go figure, right?)

One noticeable thing that has changed is my community service efforts. 

I used to be very active in the once-a-week free meal service to the community at church. Almost once-a-month, I would plan, shop, prepare, cook, and clean-up a dinner for 100+ people (with help of course). And when I wasn't the PIC (person-in-charge), I would go and help serve. 

After having the baby, that has changed, and I actually have not been back since giving birth, and that has left a great void in me. 

I really enjoy giving back, and feel that I am called to do so as a Christian and a Christ follower. And I am finally into my new groove of life with baby on my hip and ready to get back into serving others. But, as it stands right now, I can't get back to the free dinners due to my scheduling. Obviously, I can't take the baby to church to cook without disruption and serve with hesitation. So that's out. 

So now I am left with - well - what can I do with baby - and what do I feel called to do?

After some quick prayer - yes, I confess it was quick, not the great mediation I should have gone for - I felt God leading me to pray for others and to bring meals to the sick and healing. 

I guess one of my spiritual gifts is food. Ha. Ha. 

No, but in all seriousness, after I had given birth, I was brought dinner on two different nights. And it was such a small gesture, but had such a huge impact! That was so helpful to me and my family, and I really enjoyed the visits. 

Last week, I felt the spirit move me to email two of my fellow church goers, not the ones in my regular circle, and I asked them if there was anything I could pray for them for. 

And there was!

There was some actually pretty serious situations that needed prayer. And I felt honored to be able to pray with them on their requests. 

I look forward to being led this week to pray for two or more people. 

Also, I brought three meals to three different families last week. This venture of taking meals to the sick and healing is one that I have never done before. And to be truthful, it is more cost involved than I have ever gotten into as well (the free dinners that I prepared were always reimbursed). But I felt the spirit lead me to this service as well, and I know enough through my faith to trust that this is possible on our budget. 

All through the cooking process for these families, I was able to pray over the food that it would nourish their bodies and heal their spirits. And that was special to me. 

When I went to deliver the food, I was able to give a friendly smile and hug and let them love on baby (all were recovering from knee or hip replacements, not something contagious!). And that was encouraging to me as well. 

Eventhough I miss serving with the free weekly dinners at church, I am learning to enjoy this new style of service. And I am grateful that the Holy spirit is there to lead me through new service opportunities that still lay ahead. 

Just have to remember to keep me heart and ears open for those opportunities. 

FINALLY!

My husband and I love fast food. 

Ok, maybe not love, but we like it. 

Ok, maybe not like, but we use it. 

Honestly, I can think of only like one thing I really at a fast food place. Out of all of the fast food places around! 

But, we do eat fast food a lot. In fact, last week, I counted how much we used it. We ate lunch three times at a fast food place. And we ate dinner twice. That's five times in one week!

Ouch.

And I wonder why I can't do a full work out at the gym.

But I got to thinking...

If you don't even like fast food all that much, why do you use it so often? 

Simple.

It's easy. 

When my husband and I are in a rush somewhere, we pick up fast food. When my husband and I are starving, we pick up fast food. When we have had a long day at work and don't want to mess up the kitchen, we get fast food instead. 

It's easy. 

It's fast. 

And we don't really have to plan ahead. 

We just drive there, pick something out and have it in our mouths in less than five minutes. 

Fast food, has made us very lazy eaters.

And I notice that I eat much healthier choices, when I am not starving. 

So. This week. I am going to test my theory of lazy eating. I have already gone shopping for food. I have meals planned out. And I am going to try my best to have meals ready before we get hungry, to avoid the rush to find something to eat fast when we are starving!

Wish me luck.

Take a Message for Me!

I have always been taught to treat people as I wish to be treated. 

And I think I am being tested on this. 

For the last two years, I have been in contact with a woman and her family in need. The church has provided her family with holiday food baskets. And on occasion, she has called asking for additional food assistance. 

The last three or four months however, it has gotten really bad. 

She has called asking for food, toilet paper, and dog food, almost on a monthly basis. And the assistance always has to come right this second, never in a day or two.

Now, our church supports a local food pantry. And this woman can certainly go use that pantry. However, she cannot, because she has already used up her "free" passes with the pantry, that offers food assistance three times in a calendar year to families. 

It's not even March yet people!

The house that she lives at is not the best. It is dirty. It is cluttered. It is smelly. And I think they run a shanky puppy mill out of their house too.

Obviously this family needs more financial income since they are seeking out for food assistance. 

But I am almost certain that they already receive government assistance, and just are not using it efficiently. And, yes, I know I should not be that person who wants to dictate how their money is spent. 

But still!

The lady has called at least three times in the last week, and each time she does, I ask the secretary to take a message. 

I was hoping that the lady would get the hint. But clearly she has not yet. 

If this family didn't include any children, I think I would be better at telling them I can no longer provide assistance. But, there are children involved. And I just hate the knowing that there are hungry children out there. 

Treat others as you treat yourself. 

Well, that means calling back and dealing with it.  

Ah, Women

I am sure all of the men have perked up their ears from the title of this rant.

But, first, let me say, I am a woman. Proud owner of every womanly body part there is. 

Now let me say, I don't understand women.

(And the men say, "AMEN SISTER!")

Sure, it is not fair for me to generalize EVERY woman into this proclamation. But, for ranting sake, it will remain. 

From reading my other blog posts, you already know that I consider myself a "potato" heart. I am not overly emotional. I lead with my brain in most cases, not my heart. My husband was the one to cry at the birth of our child for Heaven's Sake, as I laid there not looking at the precious face of my newborn, but instead looking at the doctor asking when I could get up and leave. 

I don't understand emotional women. 

It is said that when you lead with your emotions, you are leading with false hope. And I almost totally agree with that. You should lead with truth and reason. 

I don't understand women who cause drama.

It is said that when you cause drama you cause it to either bring more positive attention to yourself, or to bring more negative attention to the person you are gossiping about.

I don't understand women who are selfish.

To me, yes, I am generalizing again, women are nurturers, women are partners, women are caring. And I don't get the women who are self-seeking, self-serving. God didn't create Eve to open an apple business. Think that about. 

I don't understand women who control the men in their lives. 

I know so many women who literally and figuratively wear the pants in their relationships. And truthfully, we are taught to share the pant wearing. But why do so many men have little to no say in their relationships? Why even have a partner if all we are going to do is control them?

I don't understand women who are "busy."

Ugh. I really don't like that word. It is so unapproachable. It leaves no room for feedback, no room for a relationship to grow. "How are you?" Answer: "Busy." Well, then, guess you are too busy for me! (And, for God if you think about it.)

I could go on and on. But as a member of the womanhood movement, I am embarrassed by my follow members. We all should do more to improve our movement of sisterhood.

To Be or Not To Be...Is That A Question?

The phrase, "struggling with my faith" seems like an oxymoron to me. 

To me, there is no struggle. Faith either is or is not. There is no fight about it. It is true or not true. You either believe, or don't believe. Period.

But. I have witnessed so many times, people "struggling" with faith.

And I just don't get it. 

God is either God of everything, or God of nothing. Jesus is either the Son of God, or the Son of Nothing. 

There is no grey area here. It truly is as black and white, as, well, the colors black and white. 

However, what I have come to realize is that people aren't struggling with faith itself. They are struggling with themselves in the life of faith.

And that is were the confusion begins. 

Just as if God is God of everything, or God of nothing. You are either a Christian or not a Christian. There is no half-way house for Christianity. And if you are a true believer, you shouldn't want such a place anyway.

The grey area here in this mess of struggle comes from self. 

Fitting your life, your everyday, into that of a person of faith.

That's where the true struggle is. 

"I'm struggling with my faith" = "I'm having trouble living my life in line with that of God's."

And that is not God's problem. 

(It's yours.) 

Motherhood's Diaper

I have been a mom now for two months and ten days. And somehow, it feels like I have been a mommy my entire life. 

Yes, I was that little girl that carted around her Cabbage Patch Kid everywhere she went in that tiny, Made from China, plastic stroller. 

Yes, I was that little girl who dressed up her Guinea Pigs in doll dresses and made them sit for afternoon tea with Teddy Grams for dessert. 

Yes, I was that little girl who started babysitting way too early in life, because I loved kids and wanted to be a mom someday.

Eventhough I have been a "real" mom for shorter time than most anything else I have done in my life, it doesn't feel that way.

And for that, I am grateful.

Last night, the baby had a blow-out in his diaper while daddy was holding him. And instead of daddy taking care of the problem himself, what did he do? Yup. He passed the baby to me. And, yes, the blow-out was so bad, a bath was needed instead of a quick swipe of a wipe. 

As I was bathing my poor dirty baby, a totally unscheduled bathing to add, my husband comes into the bathroom and says, "Honey, you are so good at that."

And I got to thinking. 

You know, he's right, I am so good at cleaning up crap. 

It's comes so natural to me. 

Too Old for That!

While cleaning out the garage this past week, my mother-in-law found some old clothes that she used to wear. So she dug them out and started to wash them to be able to wear them again.

Last Friday, she asked if I would take her to visit her friends and they were going to go to Denny's. 

Well, as it was time to leave, she comes out of our guest room in a see-through shirt and skin tight leggings. I mean, she is not the thinnest person. I bet she wears of size 14 or 16. And in fact, I know for sure that the shirt she was wearing was an XL. And she is not the youngest person either, as she is in his mid-fifties. 

It was bad. You could see her gut peeking through the shirt, her fat rolls, her belly button, her black bra, her boobs that poured out over the bra. And her leggings that sucked into her thighs and hugged her booty. Ew. 

In short - That outfit was not meant for her. 

But I was not about to tell her that!

So when my husband got home from work, I told him to look at his mom's outfit when she got home. 

And about thirty minutes later, he did just that. 

And to my enjoyment, my husband went off on her. Saying everything I wanted to say but didn't have the guts to.

And to my surprise, she wasn't embarrassed, or didn't say something like, "Oh I didn't know you could see through it like that." 

No! Nothing! 

All she said was that she looked good.

But then my husband pulled out the big guns. And said. 

"Mom, would you really wear that outfit to pick up your five year old granddaughter from school?" 

That did it. 

She stopped defending her outfit. Which I am guessing she knew was ridiculous to begin with, but always enjoys a good argument. 

I can't do it?

If there is one phrase I do not like hearing from other people, it is that I cannot do something. 

Sure, I am not talking about police saying I can't do drugs. Or my boss saying I can't throw teenagers off of buildings. But, I am talking about when people say that I cannot do something, or accomplish something in my personal life. It just bugs me. And I want to come right out and say to them, "Watch me."

My mom usually reverse physiology on me. So this is one of her tactics. And I have come to the age of understanding that is why she does it. To inspire me. To push me. But when someone other than my mom says these things to me, without trying to use that reversal trick on me, I get angry.

Very angry.

And probably I am more angry about this one than most, because it came from my mother-in-law. 

After I got off of work the other day, I came home and was greeted to a semi/dirty house, not terrible, along with my hungry husband, her, and my five hungry pets. 

I quickly turned into superwoman and started rattling the pots and pans and getting everyone fed. 

After dinner, like just after dinner, with the dirty dishes still on the table, my mother-in-law says to me, "There is no way you are going to be able to do this with a baby, you need my help."

At first I was thinking, well, I did it just fine with you here, and I am guessing a baby is a lot easier than you! Not out loud of course.

But, then I did say aloud, like I usually do, "Watch me." 

And that really took her by surprise I think.

Because she said, "REALLY? You think so??? I don't think so!!!" And got up and started walking toward our guest room.

Ugh.

What exactly was the purpose of her saying that to me? Was it to scare me into thinking that I can't actually do it, and I really do need her help? Was it to put me down because I have a lot of things and people to care for and now I am adding another person into the mix? 

She has three children. She was a single mother. Our situations are far different from each. I have someone to co-parent. And so far. We only have one child. Sure, add the five pets in, and you probably got another child in there somewhere. But, really, only one! Not three. 

Never tell someone that you know that they can't do something. You don't have the right. Especially if they do not ask for your opinion in the first place. 

God knows what you can handle. And I strongly believe that the more you put your faith in Him, the less you have to worry about taking care of. He promises to do most of that for you.

People with little faith are sad creatures. I can do it.

Five Year Renewal

Sometimes I am flipping the channels on the tv and run across TMZ Live. It is a spin off of the regular TMZ, celebrity spotting/news show with Harvey Levin. 

Anyway, at the end of TMZ Live they always take viewer questions. 

Well, the other day, not on any particular topic, a viewer posted that she believes that marriages should no longer be life long commitments, but instead five year contracts. And no divorce may be warranted during that five year stretch. If you get married, you agree to five years, period. And once the five years is up, you meet with an attorney or mediator to renegotiate your marital terms or are granted a divorce. 

First, I have to say that my best guess is this lady is not currently married. I mean, really. A five year contract? Could you image the outcry this would cause among the religious community? And not to mention the outcry this would cause among the justice system? You mean to tell me that if your husband is beating you, you have to wait for the five years to be up to divorce him? 

Second, I have not been married five years yet. Almost. But not yet. And what I have learned over the not-yet-five years that I have been married, is that my marriage has changed, a lot, since we first got married. We are not the same people we were back then. And I would not know what to renegotiate from year one to year five in hopes of making it to year ten. It doesn't work like that. When you marry someone, you agree to be flexible and to be bonded to that person regardless of change. 

This five year contract vs. life long commitment brings up an interesting point about the separation of church and state. Society is trying so hard these days to keep the two so separate, but in reality, marriages force church and state to work together. 

I think I will stick with the life long plan. Anyone can commit five years to you I think. But only one other person can commit his whole life to you. 

Another One Bites The Dust

Last week we had my mother-in-law come for a visit. 

Her main purpose was to go through all the crap, oh excuse me, all the boxes, she has stored in our garage for almost four years. We figured that she would have at least half of the boxes ready for the donation or trash bins, seeing that it has been four years since any of that crap, oh excuse me, stuff, has even seen the light of day.

Well.

After six days of going through each box very preciously, the total number of boxes ready for donation or trash. Equaled. Two. 

Yup, that's right. Two effing boxes. Out of maybe twenty total.

And where are the other eighteen boxes suppose to go now you may wonder? Yes, that's right, right back where they came from. In our garage. Not her apartment. Oh no. Her apartment isn't big enough to hold all that stuff. 

Well, news flash lady. 

Neither is our garage. 

Thankfully I have a very understanding husband. 

And he claims that once the dust settles and a few weeks go by, that he will go back through those boxes and somehow, mysteriously, most will disappear. Ah. That will be wonderful.

What won't be so wonderful?

In four more years when we try this again with her, and she can't find all her treasured items. 

What's the Deal?

There is a person I know. An acquiescence, I guess you can say. Not a friend. Not an enemy. But, I do know her. I speak to her weekly. I read her Facebook posts. I reply to her emails. 

And she totally gets under my skin.

I mean, I wouldn't go as far as saying I despise her. But sometimes I think I am close to saying that!

She doesn't work, is a stay-at-home mom. Has lots of opinions. Many that I do not share.  Is unforgiving. Rude to a point. Acts like her poop don't stink. And the list goes on.

I usually like to think that I am an understanding person. I understand that I may not like you 100%, and in return you may not like me 100%. I understand that we may share differing views. I understand that you go about things differently than I would. Fine. We are all God's children, equally loved by Him, so let's move on. 

But why can't I shake this person and chalk her up like all the others and place her in my understanding person viewpoint and move on? 

I mean sometimes, I catch myself doing the dishes and a thought pops into my head about how I really do not like her. 

Isn't that terrible? 

At first, I thought this might be because I was jealous of her. I mean, sure, she doesn't have to work. She gets to play with crafts and kids all day. She gets to cook and bake all day. She seems to do fun things and buy fun things. I want that!

And so, I prayed about being jealous about her and for God to change my heart. 

To my surprise, that wasn't my issue with her. And thankfully prayer is there to help me figure that out!

But now I am back to the drawing board. I still can't figure out what the real issue is. And I really want to, so I can move on and stop this bad thinking of her. I mean, really, I do not like thinking about people this way. Everyone has good in them. I know it. But, why can't I find a good in her? She just seems so, so, very, fake.

I saw a quote the other day that read, "People that have the most opinions of you, are the one's that barely know you." 

Maybe that's my problem. Maybe I just know the top layer of her and not really her?

Maybe I am such a loud mouth, that I haven't given her a piece of my mind, and am upset that I can't tell her "like it is"? I mean, that is not right either...

But, I will continue to work on this. And regain my doing the dishes in peace. 

MIL Visit

Ah, yes, my mother-in-law is visiting this week. (Notice the lack of cheers and applause.)

My husband and I are preparing for baby by cleaning out, donating, and organizing our house. This includes all closets, cupboards, drawers, and yes, even the garage. 

Last year my sister-in-law and mother-in-law moved out of their apartment due to financial reasons. My SIL moved in with us. And my MIL moved in with a friend. And some how, like my SIL wasn't enough, all their "stuff" moved into our house as well, well, the rest of it, that didn't make the move the first time they moved into a smaller place four years ago.

This "stuff" took over our beautifully organized and space-ish garage, and turned it into a storage container. For over a year now, or if you count the stuff from before, almost four years now.

I was surprised when the closets and cupboards and drawers only took a week to do. And so I decided to head into the garage for a peak last week. 

Bad idea. 

Thankfully, I was able to pull my pregnancy powers over my husband, and he agreed to have his mom come up for a week to go through her items in the garage to donate, throw away, or take down with her to her new apartment in another city.

I have mentioned before, but my MIL is a germ freak. Bad. Like, she keeps her purse in the trunk of her car because it is too dirty to keep in the main part of the car, where your feet are...

And, on top of that, she is a pack rat. I know, doesn't really fit the stereotype, but boy is she ever! 

I knew her cleaning out the garage was going to be a issue. But, I really want my garage back. And living in the desert, it is either really super hot, really super windy, or really super cold. It would be a dream to be able to have my car live in the garage where I can easily get baby in and out without regard for the outside conditions. 

Before we went to pick her up for the week, we made two piles in the garage. One was our stuff that we accumulated over the last year and didn't have a proper place to put them in due to all the apartment stuff. This pile was small. Fit nicely into a corner. The other pile was my MIL's stuff. And that literally took up 3/4 of the floor of our garage. It was disgusting. 

What is more disgusting? My MIL has yet to throw a single thing away, and this is day four of her working in there. 

I mean really, I opened a box and saw old, dried up paints. Nothing but dead craft paint. And yesterday, I saw the same box, nicely tapped, labeled "craft paints" and in her "to still store here" pile. 

No way Jose!

Those babies are toast once she is gone.

And I am sure a lot of other things will be too. My husband and I disagree on what of hers will stay in our garage and what will go away. I want it all gone. He wants most gone. 

But my thinking is that if it won't fit into their new apartment now, it will never fit again. What good is a big box of dried paint containers in my garage, when she lives 150 miles away? Can't do crafts with it being in the garage. 

Oh man. 

If only I listened to my mother and really understood that you don't just marry your husband, you marry his family as well. 

Then I would have had to the notion to move far away right after the wedding. Far enough away where the ability to house crap in my garage would not be an option. 

News Anchor Puts Down Oreos To Address Complaints

This morning I turned on Facebook to see lots of my friends sharing a link of a news anchor who did a piece regarding an email she received from a viewer regarding her weight.

The viewer email stated that the lady news anchor should consider slimming down for the public because obesity is a serious threat and her flaunting her obesity on the television each day gave the wrong image to her viewers, especially young girls. 

The news anchor fought back and did a 2 minute piece reacting to the email and its contents and how she was being bullied and that even though she can take the nasty remarks, possibly obese viewers could not, and she was not going to stand for that.

Hm.

I have two thoughts. 

One, it seems that we have become a society so used to seeing our public figures slim, in shape, and basically, sexually appealing, that any public figure that does not fit that perfect box, is an immediate outcast and is prone to hear about it. I mean, have you seen the local weather people these days? Straight from a magazine with the right clothes labels to prove it. I mean really, I don't need a fashion model to read me the temps for the week.

Two, as my husband puts it, I pay to watch TV, and since I have to look at ugly people all day in my regular life, I want to look at pretty people on TV, especially since I have to pay for it. I don't want to pay to look at ugly people when I can do that for free. 

In the end, I really see no wrong here from either side. The viewer pays to watch the news program and offered an opinion, a pretty strong opinion, but an opinion nonetheless. The news anchor responded to the viewer as being a bully. Both were right in what they did. 

But I guess I am leaning more towards the thought that if you are in the public eye, you need to roll with the punches. And if that means roll with the punches because you are overweight, than so be it. You have the ability to change that, and if you decide not to, then keep moving forward. 

I don't want to hear your backlash at a viewer when I choose to watch the news. That isn't news. That is fighting back. Do it on your own time. Put it up on YouTube or something. But don't do it during the scheduled broadcast. I think that sends the wrong message. And, really, it isn't news. Do a piece on bullying instead and use that viewer email as an example. Not the main topic. 

And, yes, society does seem to expect our public figures, such as news anchors, to be beautiful. But, there might be hope on the horizon, because the cast of Honey Boo Boo looks to be trying to change all of that.

 

Extinct Like the Dinosaurs

Well it is that time of year again, when my small community hosts its annual Relay for Life 24-hour relay for the American Cancer Society.

This will be my 12th year that I have been involved with this fundraiser. And actually, thinking about it, I have spent all of those 12 events on the track and field the entire night! There is nothing more inspiring and uplifting than to get to the event in the evening, watch the sun set, wait all night through the long dark hours, and then finally see the sun rise once again. 

That part of the event, eventhough the coordinators had nothing to do with that piece, God takes care of that one for us, but that part of the event, truly shows the cycle of one's life with cancer. The great sunny day is all of the years before being diagnosed with cancer. The sun set marks the first sign of cancer as there is still hope that cancer is not the diagnoses. Then there comes the deep dark night when some hope gets lost and your body is not longer your own. And finally through the darkness, there comes the sun again, sweeping away the cancer and allowing you to go into remission and to begin to regain your own body back and regain all hope.

12 years ago I attended my first relay event on the track and field at my high school. I was a freshmen. This is was the second or third relay that our community had put on, so it still kind of new people. My high school marching band was asked to play at the opening ceremony, and reluctantly I agree to attend with them.

We began the opening ceremony with the Star Spangled Banner and then did some football songs and ended with the school's fight song. As I clung to my trombone during those songs, I am pretty sure I did not get one single note out of that instrument that day.

A month before the relay, my best friend, who I had met in kindergarten and remained friends, had his life taken by that ugly thing called cancer. And in fact, the relay event that year, was in his honor.

I had no idea that my friend was so sick at the time. I knew he had struggled with cancer ever since the second grade, but at the 8th grade promotion ceremony, just a few months earlier from the relay, he was able to attend. 

Somehow he had enough strength and courage to make it to the promotion ceremony eventhough he had just lost his right leg due to the spreading of cancer in his bones. 

I proudly watched him as he stepped onto that promotion stage to receive his certificate, up the three stairs and back down, on crutches, with his right pant leg hemmed up to his knee.  

That was just four months before he died. 

When I found out he had passed away, I felt something I had never felt before. Deep sadness. 

Sure, I had had lots of other people die in my life before him. My grandfather included. And all of those passings where difficult for me too, but all of those who had passed before my friend, were over the age of 70. At that "old" age, there is no where to go but up (literally!), right?

But I had never experienced a death of a friend my own age. 

How could God allow this to happen? Doesn't he know that only "old" people should die?

My parents graciously allowed to take me out of school for my friend's funeral. I remember his funeral as if it were yesterday.

There were lots of people I knew. But they were all older. I was probably the only person my friend's age there, besides his cousins. Was that because he spent most of his life at home fighting this disease so he didn't really have any friends? Or was it because it was a school day? I like to think that it is just because it was a school day...

I sat in the second row of the chairs on the grass of the cemetery, right in front of my friend's coffin. On his coffin there was a picture of him from the second grade. And a remote control car next to the picture frame (when he got sick, RC cars became his favorite hobby, as it didn't require much physical effort). 

I asked my mom why his picture was not more recent - since the second grade was year's ago. She didn't know the real answer, but guessed that, the second grade was the last time he had a professional photo taken, and right before he got sick and didn't start to look like himself. 

As I sat in that second row chair I prayed to God for peace for my friend. That he no longer had to suffer. And that God provide peace for his parents, and allow them to not suffer any longer as well.

And as I allowed my thoughts to drift in prayer, I remember saying to God, what do I do now? 

And for the first time, I heard God whisper to me. He said, "Now you have to live your life to the absolute fullest, because Brian no longer can."

I knew it was God. The voice that came into my head, and offered that soft whisper was not my own. And I didn't feel myself processing that thought as it occurred in my head.

God spoke to me for the first time that day. Well, at least, I heard God speak to me for the first time that day.

And what he had to say was pretty inspiring.

To live my life to the fullest.

Participating in the relay each year reminds me of just that. To live your life to the fullest. No matter what. No matter if you have cancer. No matter if your a caretaker of someone with cancer. Live your life to the fullest. 

Because you never know when it will be taken away from you.


(And, ps, the title of this post, "extinct like the dinosaurs" is the 2012 relay theme. To make cancer extinct like the dinosaurs! Amen to that!)

Application Fever

As I mentioned in an earlier post, my husband has been looking for work in a new field. 

And in an attempt to save some money, we do not have internet access at home. I only have access while at work. 

And of course, as it stands, almost all job applications are posted where? Yes, online. And guess how you apply for these jobs? Yes, again, online.

In the beginning of his job hunting, I would scout out good openings for him and on his lunch he would come and pick and choose from my list and then apply for all that he felt were worth a shot.

But then over the weeks and months that past, this got really old. And he started to slack off. Or I wanted to go to a lunch buffet instead of being at work. And all these other excuses.

So what begin happening, was that I was now not only finding myself scouting for possible jobs, but now I was applying to them as well. 

And you know how boring that is? Especially when it is not even for you?

I don't know what is it nowadays, but you can't just upload a pre-made resume into an application engine and send it off. 

No. You have to create an account. This includes a username, but the first username you typed in was already taken, so you had to come up with another one. Then you must create a password that has 10 letters, 3 have to be uppercase, 2 have to be the same, and you also need to add 4 numbers, but do not place them together. 

Now that you are into the system, you have to create a profile. Include your name, age, address, and boiler plate questionnaire and security questions regarding if you are a sex offender or not. 

And then you have to type in your resume into their own unique system, so you have to retype your entire work history, all your references, all your educational backgrounds, and be sure to include the street and city addresses for all as well.

It is just ridiculous. 

By the time you have all of that complete, two hours have gone by, easy.

And now you have that done, you have two more applications to complete by the end of the day (deadlines), and both are on different job sites, so the process has to begin all over again for both.

And you know, I have been applying for so many jobs for him, that it has come to the point now where I have created usernames and passwords with different organizations, and then find another opening at the same organization that I have already created a profile for months ago, and yup you guessed it, I forgot that I did. So now I have to either call their IT department and ask for a new username and password, or wait for an email explaining the ten steps it takes to reclaim the account.

Oh, if only I was more organized. I could have all this information in one place.

Or better yet, if I had known that I still would be applying for jobs seven months after I started, maybe I would have thought about saving that information in the first place.

But at the very least, my typing skills have improved. And, I know my husband's personal information like the back of my hand. And probably even better than I know my own.

So, here's to the one day where I can stop job hunting for him and instead just focus on washing his new work uniforms.