Everyday I begin my day by walking out of my bedroom into my living area and picking up whatever was left from the evening before. Typically this begins with placing a couple of oversized pillows back on the couch, because my husband has left them in the floor, as it is easier to sit on the couch without them (which I guess is a problem in itself). Practically everyday I grumble about doing so, even though it is a choice I make. After all, I could leave them in the floor and hope that Armando will see this problem and make it a priority immediately to pick them up. **I’m laughing out loud right now!**
Recently I have witnessed random acts of kindness, as well as have experienced things that have shined a light on this minor dilemma and really helped me to focus on what really matters, which in this case, happens to be the fact that Armando removes those pillows off the couch to lay on the couch with our little boy, putting him to sleep, every night.
It’s funny, because, as people, we tend to have these “pet peeves” or we tend to judge others based on our own comfort, discomfort, emotions, feelings, circumstances, etc. and we tend to overlook the other person and/or the good out of the situation. Hence, why I grumble at Armando each morning, although he is a terrific husband and father.
A couple weeks ago, however, I attended a funeral service of a great friend, Sam, who died unexpectedly on his way home in a car accident. He was 27 years old. He had served two tours in Iraq, for a total of 9 years in the Army. He made it out of war safely, and came home to die in a car accident. About six weeks prior to his death, I was in Round Mountain visiting my family when Sam wanted to come and visit, simply to catch up. It had been quite a while since I had actually seen Sam, and we had last spoken on shaky terms, so I felt uneasy and maybe even a little inconvenienced by his request. My sister didn’t care how I felt and invited him to come anyway. Sam and I had a fabulous talk that day. We discussed where we had been, where we are now, how things happen, why things happen, etc. We pretty much discussed life. Six weeks later I’m at Sam’s funeral, feeling so many emotions. How could he die this way? Why did it have to be him? I felt an overwhelming sadness and pain for his mom, as I can not even begin to imagine life without my own children. Part of me even felt angry at myself for feeling so down, as it almost felt selfish knowing the pain that his immediate family was going through.
At his service though I had this unbelievable realization of what matters and what is important. Sam loved people. He cared about everyone. He truly was mean to no one. He was happy to help and give anything he could. He was a man of God. People were so sad to see him go, but so happy for his impact on their lives. That is what matters. Relationships. When we leave, we get to take absolutely nothing with us; however, the people left behind get to keep the memories that you have had with them. People can be forever impacted by your generosity; your compassion; your spirit; and your life.
It’s sad that things like this have to happen for us to be forced back into reality and to understand what really matters in this crazy journey of life. However, it doesn’t have to be an incident of this magnitude. On Friday, I was at the gym and an elderly couple came in holding hands. The gentleman helped his wife sit down on one of the pieces of equipment, and then proceeded to workout. It was obvious by her stature and walking abilities that she was not in any condition to workout herself, but she came with him anyway and watched as he nourished his body with exercise. When he was done, he helped her up, and they left the gym together. So special. Last week, I was given a “teacher of the month” award. While this seems insignificant to some, it is voted on by students, and simply helped ground me on why I get up everyday. Even if one student is touched, I’ve made a difference.
On Saturday, my husband took both kids to the grocery store, while I went to the gym, and when he returned he had brought sunflowers, mums and pumpkins – just because. Just allowing me to go to the gym, realizing the importance of that to me, and battling two kids while taking on grocery shopping was enough, but for him, it didn’t stop there – he was truly thinking of me.
It is those little things that we have to be thankful for. It’s thinking of others and letting them know. Oftentimes I think of how talented someone is, or beautiful, or nice, etc. and I don’t stop to let them know that I have thought this way about them. And deeper than that, I can tend to get caught up in what’s going wrong and fail to see what is right. I have a beautiful family, a place to lay my head at night, a terrific job, I eat daily, and I have people that love me. What more could I possibly want and/or need?
Looking through a child’s eyes is really the way to live. I look at my daughter and son and see pure excitement when they find out they get to visit with their cousins and/or Grammie and Papa. A couple of cars and a dolly will suffice for hours when they need to play. A hug and/or kiss can make anything better. They always let you know when they are upset and usually tell you exactly why. They are happy to wake up each morning and are always ready to face the next challenge. They don’t even think of the possibility of you ever being gone (or death). They live for the moment and tend to tell it like it is. And, they would simply jump on the pillows, or make a fort, rather than seeing that they are “out of place.”
Many times I forget what is important, because I am seeing what is inconvenient and/or a bother to me. I simply hope to grow daily in realizing what is important and in focusing on my relationships with others, as that is all I really have and/or need.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Alina Ballerina and Mommy's Pride
Alina, right before leaving to balet on the first day.Proud. There is no other word to describe how I feel to be Alina’s Mom (and Aydon’s, but this is about Alina). From the moment I held her, I was in love. Adoring every piece of her being. As time goes by, these feelings have only grown stronger. Experiences are becoming her story and it’s going by so quickly. With every experience, I fall more in love and become more proud.
As she grows into a beautiful young girl, her personality traits are becoming more prevalent and admirable. One of her most obvious traits is her independence. Last week was Alina’s first day at ballet. We walked into a tiny room with many moms and little girls waiting for class to begin. While many of the girls were clinging to their moms, crying, Alina was asking me, “You’re going to leave, right, Mommy?” She was so excited to face the new challenge. She then went into the room with her new teacher, Miss Kathy, and followed instructions so well. I, of course, was in the lobby taking pictures and watching through the window. Driving home I was still taking pictures of my little girl in her ballet attire, reminiscing on how fast time has gone by and how my baby is becoming a little girl.
As she grows into a beautiful young girl, her personality traits are becoming more prevalent and admirable. One of her most obvious traits is her independence. Last week was Alina’s first day at ballet. We walked into a tiny room with many moms and little girls waiting for class to begin. While many of the girls were clinging to their moms, crying, Alina was asking me, “You’re going to leave, right, Mommy?” She was so excited to face the new challenge. She then went into the room with her new teacher, Miss Kathy, and followed instructions so well. I, of course, was in the lobby taking pictures and watching through the window. Driving home I was still taking pictures of my little girl in her ballet attire, reminiscing on how fast time has gone by and how my baby is becoming a little girl.
Alina during balet, listening to Miss Kathy.
Alina is now asking daily if she gets to be a ballerina today. She is loving this newfound freedom and the opportunity to do something. I hope the drive is always there and that I have the ability to hold on to all of the moments in her story. Her first performance is on September 25th at Harvest Festival and I am again, so excited, and so proud. Alina will probably be happy to perform, and I may just be the one crying.
On our way home, Alina kept saying, "I want to go back to balet, again, again and again."
Moments
As I hung up the phone I began to cry. Tears of sadness. Tears of pride. Tears of pure empathy. Tears.
We live life through moments, and we don’t always know what the next moment might bring or when it’s going to hit. I literally had just uttered the words, “Nick leaves for Iraq tomorrow,” to my husband, and the phone rang. I carried this weight with me all day but hadn’t shared it with anyone. Then, I spoke with Nick on the phone. He was his typical goofy self – cracking jokes and talking as if he just called to call. I made it through the phone call strong; I felt I had to as I can’t imagine what emotions are plaguing him - leaving his wife and five-month-old son to go and “clean up” a war. Whatever that means. Carrying the thought that some men and women go to this place and never return. He is proud to do this and proud of our country; more driven then I have seen him probably ever, but still taking on such a big task with huge risks involved.
As his big sister that unfortunately hasn’t always been the most supportive, but rather, judgmental, I still want to protect him. I still envision this little boy that shouldn’t see death first-hand, or have to wonder about his safety every day. I feel his wife’s pain just thinking about if the situation were my own. I think of what it’s like to be in his shoes, missing the first year of his son’s life. I hurt knowing that he carries the pain of losing his mother, and regarding her as his “guardian angel.” I don’t want to have him need a guardian angel.
Today’s moment was a million thoughts and emotions surfacing about my brother. Thinking about his first-grade play in Mrs. Greene’s class where he was such a star. Long, shaggy hair and personality to boot. Thinking about when we were the only two left at home and having to have our picture taken together. We both thought that was the worst thing ever. Remembering having him pose for pictures in all of his new school clothes before 2nd or 3rd grade. Being livid over his birth, because I was no longer the baby. Thinking about how strong he has been through the last five years, and how driven he is to make us proud.
We live life through moments, and we don’t always know what the next moment might bring or when it’s going to hit. I literally had just uttered the words, “Nick leaves for Iraq tomorrow,” to my husband, and the phone rang. I carried this weight with me all day but hadn’t shared it with anyone. Then, I spoke with Nick on the phone. He was his typical goofy self – cracking jokes and talking as if he just called to call. I made it through the phone call strong; I felt I had to as I can’t imagine what emotions are plaguing him - leaving his wife and five-month-old son to go and “clean up” a war. Whatever that means. Carrying the thought that some men and women go to this place and never return. He is proud to do this and proud of our country; more driven then I have seen him probably ever, but still taking on such a big task with huge risks involved.
As his big sister that unfortunately hasn’t always been the most supportive, but rather, judgmental, I still want to protect him. I still envision this little boy that shouldn’t see death first-hand, or have to wonder about his safety every day. I feel his wife’s pain just thinking about if the situation were my own. I think of what it’s like to be in his shoes, missing the first year of his son’s life. I hurt knowing that he carries the pain of losing his mother, and regarding her as his “guardian angel.” I don’t want to have him need a guardian angel.
Today’s moment was a million thoughts and emotions surfacing about my brother. Thinking about his first-grade play in Mrs. Greene’s class where he was such a star. Long, shaggy hair and personality to boot. Thinking about when we were the only two left at home and having to have our picture taken together. We both thought that was the worst thing ever. Remembering having him pose for pictures in all of his new school clothes before 2nd or 3rd grade. Being livid over his birth, because I was no longer the baby. Thinking about how strong he has been through the last five years, and how driven he is to make us proud.
Sitting under the tree, pondering his future, Nick proudly holds Lane, his son.
It was a moment of realization that people are fighting a war for my safety. For my lifestyle. For my kids. My family. Not just “people.” Brothers, sons, daughters, husbands, wives, etc. People that have families that love them and cherish them and will spend every moment praying for their safe return to our “normal” lives.
I am so proud of my brother, and the chance to relish in the moments of life. We don’t get these moments back, so we need to enjoy them all.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Life Lessons from Mom
"All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel Mother."-- Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865)
Today I taught Rudyard Kipling's "If" to my seniors. If you haven't read it, it's a poem, and it is amazing.
It is basically the secret to life. And, in teaching it, I realized that life and being successful go back to what our mom's taught us when we were young.
For starters, it's easy to say even if someone is lying to us, we should not lie in return; however, so often that is what people do. Or, if someone hates us, we tend to respond with hate. Or, people grow to be successful and forget where they come from. This goes back to Mom's rules, the first being the Golden Rule. "Treat others as you wish to be treated." Not easy, but if we all lived by this, can you imagine our society? "Don't lie." Again, sometimes it's just easier. I don't know why. But lying never makes anyone feel good. It's horrible. My Mom always said never use the word "hate." "Hate is a strong word." No one, I don't care who we are talking about, likes to be hated. It's a natural instinct to want to be liked. If someone does dislike you, isn't it better to "kill them with kindness?" Again, thanks Mom. Then, Mom always said to "dream." Pretty simple. And, so necessary. But at the same time, one should not be so caught up on his/her dream that it is the ONLY way.
My Mom also taught me to "hold on." Even if today seems like the worst day ever, tomorrow is going to come and it's new and fresh. The possibilities are endless. And, my Mom always talked to me about keeping my cool, watching what comes out my mouth (as I tend to say things before I think), and not being hot headed or arrogant. Who knew? All the lessons to make the world go round do not come from college degrees, high school, or any other "knowledge" source, other than one's mom. Even something as simple as tying your shoe. If you don't you'll fall, but if you fall, "get back up." She knew everything.
Not a day goes by that I don't miss my Mom and all of the wisdom she had. Teaching Kipling's life lessons today was tough as it just kept reminding me that my Mom could have written that poem. She knew everything. At least it seemed. I didn't even touch on the whole "loving unconditionally" concept. Wow. I just pray that I am able to impart such wisdom to my children. If we all lived by the "rules" that our Mom's taught us, our world would be so much better. Lovelier.
My first lesson to everyone is love your mother. Cherish EVERY moment. You don't know how long you will have her. And, believe me, life without her is tough. Not being able to share your children, your first day of class, how you feel today (or yesterday), the purchase of your first house, your college graduation, etc. Call her. Express your love. Your appreciation. Recognize that she has taught you EVERYTHING about life. And, then, listen to your mother.
Today I taught Rudyard Kipling's "If" to my seniors. If you haven't read it, it's a poem, and it is amazing.
It is basically the secret to life. And, in teaching it, I realized that life and being successful go back to what our mom's taught us when we were young.
For starters, it's easy to say even if someone is lying to us, we should not lie in return; however, so often that is what people do. Or, if someone hates us, we tend to respond with hate. Or, people grow to be successful and forget where they come from. This goes back to Mom's rules, the first being the Golden Rule. "Treat others as you wish to be treated." Not easy, but if we all lived by this, can you imagine our society? "Don't lie." Again, sometimes it's just easier. I don't know why. But lying never makes anyone feel good. It's horrible. My Mom always said never use the word "hate." "Hate is a strong word." No one, I don't care who we are talking about, likes to be hated. It's a natural instinct to want to be liked. If someone does dislike you, isn't it better to "kill them with kindness?" Again, thanks Mom. Then, Mom always said to "dream." Pretty simple. And, so necessary. But at the same time, one should not be so caught up on his/her dream that it is the ONLY way.
My Mom also taught me to "hold on." Even if today seems like the worst day ever, tomorrow is going to come and it's new and fresh. The possibilities are endless. And, my Mom always talked to me about keeping my cool, watching what comes out my mouth (as I tend to say things before I think), and not being hot headed or arrogant. Who knew? All the lessons to make the world go round do not come from college degrees, high school, or any other "knowledge" source, other than one's mom. Even something as simple as tying your shoe. If you don't you'll fall, but if you fall, "get back up." She knew everything.
Not a day goes by that I don't miss my Mom and all of the wisdom she had. Teaching Kipling's life lessons today was tough as it just kept reminding me that my Mom could have written that poem. She knew everything. At least it seemed. I didn't even touch on the whole "loving unconditionally" concept. Wow. I just pray that I am able to impart such wisdom to my children. If we all lived by the "rules" that our Mom's taught us, our world would be so much better. Lovelier.
My first lesson to everyone is love your mother. Cherish EVERY moment. You don't know how long you will have her. And, believe me, life without her is tough. Not being able to share your children, your first day of class, how you feel today (or yesterday), the purchase of your first house, your college graduation, etc. Call her. Express your love. Your appreciation. Recognize that she has taught you EVERYTHING about life. And, then, listen to your mother.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Lucky...I mean, blessed.
Life is such a turbulent ride. It's so easy to get caught up in living moment to moment, day to day, simply trying to keep the ship afloat and get done all the things "we need to." At each step, stage or level we, as humans, tend to anticipate the "next" one as it is going to be easier, take less of our time, and we are simply going to be able to enjoy it more. All of us know however that each level just brings its own set of demands, needs, and time.
One of those stages is children. While having children is definitely the ultimate gift in life, it is also one of the biggest roller coasters I have ever been on. It constantly amazes me how two little people can go from making me feel elated, emotional, and on top of the world, to not knowing if I'm going to make it (with sanity at least). :) On this ride though I feel we sometimes, as moms, put so much into rearing our children that we forget their daddy. Not intentionally, of course; however being Mommy is so consuming that it just happens.
Well, this week Daddy shined. Three occasions in particular took place this week that made me beam with pride, knowing that Armando is my husband. I was talking about how he had helped me finish frosting sugar cookies so that I could go to the gym in addition to the million other things we had obligated ourselves to that night, and the women I was talking to could not believe that my HUSBAND would finish such a task! Sometimes I take this for granted as it just "happens," but it takes a special man to be willing.
Then, Armando and I had attended Sunday school where we talked about loving one another and the importance of putting others first. I love to just watch Armando's reactions to people talking around him, as well as to listen to his little "uh huh's" and "yes'". He can say so much without saying anything at all. In the car on the way home, he then began to tell me a story that he said he thought about sharing in class, but wondered about its relevancy, so didn't. He shared that his parents told him in 8th grade when he went to a dance he should dance with any girl that asked him, no matter what. He then shared that he didn't particularly like that suggestion at the time, and didn't understand, but said that down the road he saw their point and believed in the lesson. Armando and his parents (family in general) have such a beautiful love for people and are simply kind. It's incredible to watch.
Lastly, Armando and I had the opportunity to go to Vegas together alone for the day, where we planned to go school clothes shopping. While most men would want to go do their own thing and shop for their own clothes, Armando was happy to go into New York and Company with me and not only look at clothes, but he also picked clothes out and ran to switch sizes over and over and over. He wasn't sighing or frustrated or pushing me to go; he was simply in the moment, enjoying our time together and simply being there.
It's just an amazing blessing to have found someone that is so kind-hearted, understanding, and loving. It doesn't matter which way I'm headed (which can be anywhere from one moment to the next); he is there, with a smile, and open arms, ready to help, support, carry, nurture, etc. I have been blessed with this love and this family and saying I'm thankful doesn't even begin to show my gratitude.
One of those stages is children. While having children is definitely the ultimate gift in life, it is also one of the biggest roller coasters I have ever been on. It constantly amazes me how two little people can go from making me feel elated, emotional, and on top of the world, to not knowing if I'm going to make it (with sanity at least). :) On this ride though I feel we sometimes, as moms, put so much into rearing our children that we forget their daddy. Not intentionally, of course; however being Mommy is so consuming that it just happens.
Well, this week Daddy shined. Three occasions in particular took place this week that made me beam with pride, knowing that Armando is my husband. I was talking about how he had helped me finish frosting sugar cookies so that I could go to the gym in addition to the million other things we had obligated ourselves to that night, and the women I was talking to could not believe that my HUSBAND would finish such a task! Sometimes I take this for granted as it just "happens," but it takes a special man to be willing.
Then, Armando and I had attended Sunday school where we talked about loving one another and the importance of putting others first. I love to just watch Armando's reactions to people talking around him, as well as to listen to his little "uh huh's" and "yes'". He can say so much without saying anything at all. In the car on the way home, he then began to tell me a story that he said he thought about sharing in class, but wondered about its relevancy, so didn't. He shared that his parents told him in 8th grade when he went to a dance he should dance with any girl that asked him, no matter what. He then shared that he didn't particularly like that suggestion at the time, and didn't understand, but said that down the road he saw their point and believed in the lesson. Armando and his parents (family in general) have such a beautiful love for people and are simply kind. It's incredible to watch.
Lastly, Armando and I had the opportunity to go to Vegas together alone for the day, where we planned to go school clothes shopping. While most men would want to go do their own thing and shop for their own clothes, Armando was happy to go into New York and Company with me and not only look at clothes, but he also picked clothes out and ran to switch sizes over and over and over. He wasn't sighing or frustrated or pushing me to go; he was simply in the moment, enjoying our time together and simply being there.
It's just an amazing blessing to have found someone that is so kind-hearted, understanding, and loving. It doesn't matter which way I'm headed (which can be anywhere from one moment to the next); he is there, with a smile, and open arms, ready to help, support, carry, nurture, etc. I have been blessed with this love and this family and saying I'm thankful doesn't even begin to show my gratitude.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Welcome to Blogging!
The decision to create a blog was not an instant one. Actually, I would wake up at random points in the night and/or early morning and think about things I would write about if I had a blog. Weird, I know. I actually love the idea of blogging. It is so much more than just writing, or telling one's story. It is creating a history. If something happened to me tomorrow, my kids/husband/friends would have something to look at and remember. This is why I named this blog, "Our Story." Hopefully it will sort of represent the story of our lives.
So, anyway, this morning I woke up thinking about yesterday and the stress I created. And, then I couldn't go back to sleep. I started thinking about what I would blog. If I had one. So, finally I made this one. And here's my first story: I joined TOPS, a weight loss group, about six weeks ago. Going into the program I only needed to lose about 19 pounds. I knew going in that I would not really be able to compete, as most everyone else needed to lose considerably more weight than me. I just wanted the accountability, support, etc. I knew at some point I would gain weight, that I probably would never be the "biggest loser," and then it would just pretty much be hard.
Well, in the beginning, I surprised myself with results. The first week I dropped eight pounds! Then, I slowly took a few off here and there, totaling 16 pounds thus far. And then, yesterday came. I gained 1/2 pound. I had to stand up in front of a group of people and say, "I'm up." I literally almost cried.
I knew this day would come. Science said. Logic said. But then when it came, it was earth shattering. I felt like the biggest loser, not literally, unfortunately. But, why? Why does this number on a scale even matter? Shouldn't it matter that I'm healthy? That I can interact with my kids, run around, play on playground equipment, and just have fun? What do the other women in this group feel like? Why are we all so plagued?
Funny thing is that I don't judge others. Honestly, I see so many people as absolutely beautiful and I see them with so many qualities to offer and simply embrace life. The number on their scale does not effect me at all. And, unfortunately, statistics say that their number probably eats them alive, as does mine. Logic tells me we are so much more. I know what healthy is. I know what happy is. And, yet, 1/2 pound up on a scale made me feel for a moment as if I were such a failure. And, honestly I'll probably reach my goal and still not be content with the number, simply because it's not a number issue.
I guess my point is this. It's about being healthy. Feeling good. It's not a number on a scale. And, the more I say it, maybe the more it will help. I feel sad for the stress that we put on ourselves, that most people do not even see. I know my husband loves me just the way I am. And, my kids. And, my friends. And yet, I'm my own punching bag.
Ultimately, I guess I need to remember, "Honor God with your body." I Corinthians 6:19-20
This is the one body we get. Love it. Take care of it. Nurture it and hope it helps you tell, your story.
Welcome to my blog. Welcome to the middle (or so) of the story of my (our) life.
So, anyway, this morning I woke up thinking about yesterday and the stress I created. And, then I couldn't go back to sleep. I started thinking about what I would blog. If I had one. So, finally I made this one. And here's my first story: I joined TOPS, a weight loss group, about six weeks ago. Going into the program I only needed to lose about 19 pounds. I knew going in that I would not really be able to compete, as most everyone else needed to lose considerably more weight than me. I just wanted the accountability, support, etc. I knew at some point I would gain weight, that I probably would never be the "biggest loser," and then it would just pretty much be hard.
Well, in the beginning, I surprised myself with results. The first week I dropped eight pounds! Then, I slowly took a few off here and there, totaling 16 pounds thus far. And then, yesterday came. I gained 1/2 pound. I had to stand up in front of a group of people and say, "I'm up." I literally almost cried.
I knew this day would come. Science said. Logic said. But then when it came, it was earth shattering. I felt like the biggest loser, not literally, unfortunately. But, why? Why does this number on a scale even matter? Shouldn't it matter that I'm healthy? That I can interact with my kids, run around, play on playground equipment, and just have fun? What do the other women in this group feel like? Why are we all so plagued?
Funny thing is that I don't judge others. Honestly, I see so many people as absolutely beautiful and I see them with so many qualities to offer and simply embrace life. The number on their scale does not effect me at all. And, unfortunately, statistics say that their number probably eats them alive, as does mine. Logic tells me we are so much more. I know what healthy is. I know what happy is. And, yet, 1/2 pound up on a scale made me feel for a moment as if I were such a failure. And, honestly I'll probably reach my goal and still not be content with the number, simply because it's not a number issue.
I guess my point is this. It's about being healthy. Feeling good. It's not a number on a scale. And, the more I say it, maybe the more it will help. I feel sad for the stress that we put on ourselves, that most people do not even see. I know my husband loves me just the way I am. And, my kids. And, my friends. And yet, I'm my own punching bag.
Ultimately, I guess I need to remember, "Honor God with your body." I Corinthians 6:19-20
This is the one body we get. Love it. Take care of it. Nurture it and hope it helps you tell, your story.
Welcome to my blog. Welcome to the middle (or so) of the story of my (our) life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)