One of my fave people in the world "R" messaged me the other night. We have been friends for almost 16 years and we know each other so well, it's crazy. Between the two of us, we have been through so much. She is a person I love with all my heart and I know she is friends with my unconditionally. She has no ulterior motives. She is a true bestie! She has just gotten into dating and is having a hard time. I try to cheer her up by telling her marriage isn't a cake-walk either. She at least gets a laugh out of that. R: Soooo wanna laugh?
Me: ALWAYS
R: I just found out X got a new job. I almost went there on a date. I went on a first date with a new guy at the Olive Garden in town. X has a job next door. He works at California Pizza Kitchen. Totally almost went there since the wait was like 45 minutes.
Me: OH GEEZUS ON A CRACKER!! HAHAAAAA!!! (Yup. Sometimes I have just the right words to say.)
R: Sooooo close.
Me: That would have been epic!
R: I would have died!
Me: Had I been there, I would have peed my pants in excitement. (Again just the right words!)
R: Why would you be excited?
Me: Because he was such a *expletive* that he deserved to see you having a good time with someone else! The awkward ex run-in is a right of passage.
R: I doubt he would have cared. He would just bring up that we had a bet. I told him he would end up with a GF before I had another BF. I won. He already got a GF. I'm collecting my dollar but not before I lose more weight. Part of me is doing it because I have time now.. the other part wants him to eat his heart out when he sees me. Revenge is more of a motivator than health I tell ya.
Me: It is a motivator to live a better life so the other person wallows in their misery. It feels awesome at first then you get over it.
Story: R's X unceremoniously dumped her for no reason. He just ghosted. No slow fade, no one message here and there, nothing. Just *POOF* gone. He didn't even tell her either. He just changed his relationship status on facebook. Winner, right? Classy for a 28yo guy, let me tell ya! It was her first serious relationship and it hurt her a lot. She is not the type to talk about her feelings too much, but I know it hurt her a lot. I told her the guy was obviously a loser and she was better off.
Revenge can motivate people to do strange things (read the news!). A woman's mag claims you should look hotter for the next time you see an ex. Why is that? If your relationship was based on looks, it wasn't a real relationship in the first place.
The only thing that should motivate a person is their inner voice. If you lose weight or change your life for someone else and they don't notice in the way you want them to, what then? Like so many things we humans turn to, it is a temporary high. How does a life change really benefit you in the long run if you don't have the outcome you expected?
Thoughts, anyone?
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Mother's Day Came & Went...
...and I didn't post anything.
My daughter and her father made me breakfast in bed. She drew me a ton of pictures and wished me a "Happy Mother's Day" all day long. I love that kid!
Mother's Day has many meanings to me. As a mother, it is MY day. To do what? I have no clue. People celebrate all different ways. I was expecting nothing so breakfast in bed and endless drawings and cards were a beautiful thing!
It is also a day I take to honor two ladies who both mean the world to me: My Mom and my Mother. My Mother gave birth to me. My Mom adopted me and raised me. My Mom is still alive. My Mother passed away in 2000. The real surprise? They were friends. Seriously! My adoption was refreshingly open. My Mom tells me it spoke a lot about my Mother's character that she was able to befriend her. They honestly liked each other. They respected each other's roles in my and my younger sister's life.
My Mom helps me with the day-to-days of being a Mom. I call her with all sorts of questions. "Is this normal?" "What should I do for her now?" "Does this sound like (insert illness or ailment here)?" At times, she misses my Mother almost as much as I do. We talk about Mother and her life, what she went through, what I've learned from it all and how much she would have loved my daughter.
My Mother is missed every day of my life. Given how sick she was, I feel lucky to have had her for as long as I did. She taught me a lot about grace and strength. It breaks my heart she will never meet her grandbaby, but I hope one day my daughter will be willing to listen and absorb all the lessons her Grandma left behind for her.
Hope everyone had a great Mother's Day. I did :)
My daughter and her father made me breakfast in bed. She drew me a ton of pictures and wished me a "Happy Mother's Day" all day long. I love that kid!
Mother's Day has many meanings to me. As a mother, it is MY day. To do what? I have no clue. People celebrate all different ways. I was expecting nothing so breakfast in bed and endless drawings and cards were a beautiful thing!
It is also a day I take to honor two ladies who both mean the world to me: My Mom and my Mother. My Mother gave birth to me. My Mom adopted me and raised me. My Mom is still alive. My Mother passed away in 2000. The real surprise? They were friends. Seriously! My adoption was refreshingly open. My Mom tells me it spoke a lot about my Mother's character that she was able to befriend her. They honestly liked each other. They respected each other's roles in my and my younger sister's life.
My Mom helps me with the day-to-days of being a Mom. I call her with all sorts of questions. "Is this normal?" "What should I do for her now?" "Does this sound like (insert illness or ailment here)?" At times, she misses my Mother almost as much as I do. We talk about Mother and her life, what she went through, what I've learned from it all and how much she would have loved my daughter.
My Mother is missed every day of my life. Given how sick she was, I feel lucky to have had her for as long as I did. She taught me a lot about grace and strength. It breaks my heart she will never meet her grandbaby, but I hope one day my daughter will be willing to listen and absorb all the lessons her Grandma left behind for her.
Hope everyone had a great Mother's Day. I did :)
Friday, May 11, 2012
Why Is 30 Considered "Old"?
I turned 30 last September. I had no problem with it, but everyone else around me did (meaning my older sister, brothers, cousins and friends). As more and more of my younger friends turning 30, it keeps coming up all the time. I heard stuff from everyone and it led to many different questions and conversations..
"30 was hard for me to accept." Why? "I don't know. It just was."
"I should have been married with kids by 30." Why would you put a timeline on that and not just let it happen naturally?
"Next comes 40." Yeah, but I have 10 years of living to do before then and I'm sure I will be just as accepting of 40 and I was of 30..
"You're old now." Let's put aside the arthritis I have had in my joints since I was 23.. I have always been called old-school or an old soul.
"You're not young anymore." Am I supposed to go berserk now and get all midlife-crisis?
Apparently, it is an unwritten rule that 30 is supposed to hit you like a ton of bricks? I think I missed the memo about that one. I don't get the hype. People called and texted me all day asking how I felt. Umm fine? No different than I did yesterday. Getting older is a part of life, no? Why is it such a shock that 30 comes after 29? From one day to the next, you go from young to old? That makes no sense at all to me.
To be clear: Am I where I thought I would be by 30? Absolutely not, but that's okay. I realize it was silly to put a timeline on when I would accomplish certain goals. I will get to my bucket list when I get to it. No need to get all depressed about it.
"You're only as old as you feel."
When people hear that I'm okay with being 30, they then tell me I'm only as old as I feel. I have a problem with that because if it goes by feeling, I am all different ages. Some mornings I wake up and am eager to start my day. Other mornings it rains and my arthritis prevents me from standing up straight and pain-free right away.
I guess everyone has their reasons and the age they consider 'old'. I just don't think 30 was it. To me, I would say 70 is old. 30? Not so much.
"30 was hard for me to accept." Why? "I don't know. It just was."
"I should have been married with kids by 30." Why would you put a timeline on that and not just let it happen naturally?
"Next comes 40." Yeah, but I have 10 years of living to do before then and I'm sure I will be just as accepting of 40 and I was of 30..
"You're old now." Let's put aside the arthritis I have had in my joints since I was 23.. I have always been called old-school or an old soul.
"You're not young anymore." Am I supposed to go berserk now and get all midlife-crisis?
Apparently, it is an unwritten rule that 30 is supposed to hit you like a ton of bricks? I think I missed the memo about that one. I don't get the hype. People called and texted me all day asking how I felt. Umm fine? No different than I did yesterday. Getting older is a part of life, no? Why is it such a shock that 30 comes after 29? From one day to the next, you go from young to old? That makes no sense at all to me.
To be clear: Am I where I thought I would be by 30? Absolutely not, but that's okay. I realize it was silly to put a timeline on when I would accomplish certain goals. I will get to my bucket list when I get to it. No need to get all depressed about it.
"You're only as old as you feel."
When people hear that I'm okay with being 30, they then tell me I'm only as old as I feel. I have a problem with that because if it goes by feeling, I am all different ages. Some mornings I wake up and am eager to start my day. Other mornings it rains and my arthritis prevents me from standing up straight and pain-free right away.
I guess everyone has their reasons and the age they consider 'old'. I just don't think 30 was it. To me, I would say 70 is old. 30? Not so much.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Pet the Bunny
I only get nostalgic a couple times a year. Does that make me sound a bit heartless? Hmm. Maybe I should start again?
I don't get nostalgic very often. (Not really any better, but I'll continue anyway). Certain holidays and specific dates really get me thinking. Mother's Day is fast approaching. It's a day I remember both my Mom and my Mother. My Mother passed away in 2000 after a long battle with Multiple Sclerosis. My Mom lives about 10 minutes from me. I love them both dearly, but that is not why I'm writing.
If you look at my stuffed animal collection (which is quite extensive), you will notice a trend: Rabbits. Evey shape, size and color you can imagine. Some of them sing. Some are obnoxiously big and fluffy. A few were given to me and mean something. Others were purchased for no reason. Some were gifts. One was actually won in one of those impossible claw machines. Others have some kind of weird thing they do like the one that has a button you push and the head jumps. Weird, I know. I guess I should add some pics to this post to show you them, but for now you can trust they are all there.
I don't carry a lucky rabbit's foot because personally, I think they are just a smudge creepy (to each his own though).
Recently, a friend of mine posted a need for someone to take her rabbit. She didn't have the time to care for it anymore and the poor bunny needed a home. I jumped at the chance to take it.Yes, I know rabbits are cute and cuddly, but I wanted this rabbit in the worst way. He was black, white and fluffy. I named him Pet. Yes, Pet the Bunny. *Insert laugh here*
I finally had to stop and think about it. Why was I so obsessed with rabbits? Why did I feel like I needed to have this one? Why do I have so many stuffed bunnies? Why did this rabbit just poop on my rug?
So, I thought about it. Then it hit me.
When I was younger and living with my Mother (before I was put in foster care), I had a black and white rabbit named Cookie. I loved that thing. We had a bunch of rabbits, cats and even some chickens. With three other siblings in the house, I was hard-pressed to find something that was only for me. Cookie was mine, though, all mine.
I was home sick from school one day when I was 5. It was probably around the time all four of us caught chicken pox (yup, at the same time!). I was miserable. Completely and utterly miserable. I was sick and in just the worst mood. By this time, my Mother had begun to walk with a limp. She told me to wait by the back door and I watched as she hobbled across the driveway and into the garage. She emerged holding something, but I couldn't see what it was. She got to the door, opened it, held out Cookie, smiled and said "Go ahead, Doll. Pet the bunny."
I remember being overly elated to see my rabbit! It didn't hit me until I was older just how much strength it took my Mother to get out to the garage and back. Such love from a Mother to her child. I cry as I write this. I miss my Mother and I am incredibly grateful for moments like this to be able to remember and share.
As I look at Pet and see his coloring, he is the exact opposite of Cookie. Pet is mostly white with black markings. Cookie was black with white markings.
With all their differences, my Mother's words are the same ones I said to my daughter when Pet came to us. "Go ahead, Mini. Pet the bunny."
I don't get nostalgic very often. (Not really any better, but I'll continue anyway). Certain holidays and specific dates really get me thinking. Mother's Day is fast approaching. It's a day I remember both my Mom and my Mother. My Mother passed away in 2000 after a long battle with Multiple Sclerosis. My Mom lives about 10 minutes from me. I love them both dearly, but that is not why I'm writing.
Confession time: I am OBSESSED with rabbits!
If you look at my stuffed animal collection (which is quite extensive), you will notice a trend: Rabbits. Evey shape, size and color you can imagine. Some of them sing. Some are obnoxiously big and fluffy. A few were given to me and mean something. Others were purchased for no reason. Some were gifts. One was actually won in one of those impossible claw machines. Others have some kind of weird thing they do like the one that has a button you push and the head jumps. Weird, I know. I guess I should add some pics to this post to show you them, but for now you can trust they are all there.
I don't carry a lucky rabbit's foot because personally, I think they are just a smudge creepy (to each his own though).
Recently, a friend of mine posted a need for someone to take her rabbit. She didn't have the time to care for it anymore and the poor bunny needed a home. I jumped at the chance to take it.Yes, I know rabbits are cute and cuddly, but I wanted this rabbit in the worst way. He was black, white and fluffy. I named him Pet. Yes, Pet the Bunny. *Insert laugh here*
I finally had to stop and think about it. Why was I so obsessed with rabbits? Why did I feel like I needed to have this one? Why do I have so many stuffed bunnies? Why did this rabbit just poop on my rug?
So, I thought about it. Then it hit me.
"Cookie"
When I was younger and living with my Mother (before I was put in foster care), I had a black and white rabbit named Cookie. I loved that thing. We had a bunch of rabbits, cats and even some chickens. With three other siblings in the house, I was hard-pressed to find something that was only for me. Cookie was mine, though, all mine.
I was home sick from school one day when I was 5. It was probably around the time all four of us caught chicken pox (yup, at the same time!). I was miserable. Completely and utterly miserable. I was sick and in just the worst mood. By this time, my Mother had begun to walk with a limp. She told me to wait by the back door and I watched as she hobbled across the driveway and into the garage. She emerged holding something, but I couldn't see what it was. She got to the door, opened it, held out Cookie, smiled and said "Go ahead, Doll. Pet the bunny."
I remember being overly elated to see my rabbit! It didn't hit me until I was older just how much strength it took my Mother to get out to the garage and back. Such love from a Mother to her child. I cry as I write this. I miss my Mother and I am incredibly grateful for moments like this to be able to remember and share.
As I look at Pet and see his coloring, he is the exact opposite of Cookie. Pet is mostly white with black markings. Cookie was black with white markings.
With all their differences, my Mother's words are the same ones I said to my daughter when Pet came to us. "Go ahead, Mini. Pet the bunny."
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