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Reminding Myself to Always Be Thankful

tag1114 | 27 August, 2007 20:50

I've had a whirlwind of a year. I've had many ups and downs. I've had stress that I never thought I could survive. And yet, so many have gone through so much more than me. So over the last few days I've been reminding myself to be thankful.

Some of the things that I'm thankful for are simple, even silly to some people. But even the little things can bring me joy and happiness so for those I also remind myself to be thankful.

I was thinking of one of our MyCoupon members as I read about the death of her son. Fletchersmom has suffered a major loss this week and I can only imagine what that family must be going through. So as I've worried about some trivial matters in my life, I came here and read the post about her son and wondered why it takes something so terrible for me to appreciate my own circumstances more.

I know many people earthwide suffer on a level that I may never know. It sure makes me take a look at my life and remind myself to never take things for granted, especially family and friends. It makes me hug my kids a little tighter, put up with a little more from them and it prompts me to make one more phone call to my parents tonight...just because. It makes me look at my 7 year old daughter's curls and smile. It reminds me to look at my 9 year olds beautiful blue eyes and big smile and see her as a little girl again. It makes me reflect....just because.

To anyone going through a difficult time in their life, I hope you find peace. I hope the support you receive from your family and friends in real life, on the internet, through the mail or whatever means it may be, will comfort you. To Fletchersmom and family, I am thinking of you with a heavy heart. I don't know you and didn't know Fletcher but I still ache for you. And I want you to know that I'm thankful to you.....for sharing your story and allowing each of us here to take a minute to reflect upon on our own lives, our children and what we have and how quickly it can be gone. And for being an organ and tissue donor, I'm thankful to you. Your courage to share your story, your loss and your sorrow with us, has touched me and for this too I'm thankful.

I will continue to be thankful for my family and friends. I will be thankful for my life and the ability to enjoy the people and things in my life that mean so much. I will be thankful for those I don't know but who have touched my life in some way. I will remind myself to take a look around each day and find something small, something big or just something to be thankful for. There must be something in each day that I am thankful for.

Oh How Time Changes Things

tag1114 | 21 August, 2007 09:00

I think back to when I was a kid and couldn't understand a lot of the things my parents did or the reasons they did them. Now I catch myself doing some of the same things, saying some of the same things and acting some of the same ways! It makes much more sense now, especially since I'm doing it I see my kids looking at me like I'm crazy, sometimes even questioning me for some of the things I say or do. Sounds familiar.

So here are a few examples that I've come up with:

I never understood why I needed to tell my parents where I was. Why did it matter if I rode my bike around the block? I was outside playing, wasn't that enough information for them? As I shake my head for thinking like that then I see my kids wondering why they can't go outside without telling me. I see them with puzzled looks on their faces as I tell them to stay in the back yard which is fenced in and check in with me often. Of course, I'm usually outside with them or standing at the back door watching everything they do.

Washing hands before eating. I never understood why this mattered. I mean after all my hands were going to get dirty again soon so why wash them. One word now that I'm a mom: GERMS! I tell my kids to wash their hands the minute they walk in the door from school, from outside playing, before eating, after using the bathroom and any other time I feel their hands could be dirty.

Clean your room. WHY? As a child I never understood this. My parents considered my room a mess. I thought it was just perfect. After all, the toys I loved best were right there on the floor or bed for easier access. Why put them in the closet or toy box where it would take more time to dig out and thus resulting in losing precious play time. Now I'm constantly telling my kids to pick up their toys, make sure they don't have dirty clothes on the floor, put their shoes up, etc. etc. etc.

Responsibility. I heard that word so much growing up I thought it was a family member. "We're just trying to teach you responsibility". "Learn to be responsible for yourself and your actions". "We just teach you responsibility because we love you". Oh yes, I've heard myself saying similar things to my own kids now. Sometimes I have to shake my head and pinch myself to see if I'm dreaming or not. To this point, it's all been real, no dream.

I could go on and on with things that my parents or grandparents did or said and as a kid I thought it was silly or crazy or just plain annoying. Now as an adult, it all makes sense. (well, most of it makes sense)

To my own girls, let me just say that your grandparents were right. So when you get tired of hearing me tell you to clean your room, learn to be responsible or always let me know where you're at, it's just because I love you.

Yes, time changes things, doesn't it?

The Sound of Music

tag1114 | 15 August, 2007 18:28

I love music! And I would be hard pressed to pick just one genre as my favorite. Living in the Nashville area makes others who do not live in the area assume you love country music. I do listen to some country music and enjoy some country artists. Though honestly, the country I like is more of the pop/country crossover and many true country music fans don't think that's real country!

I listen to a lot of what my girls like....Avril Lavigne, Hillary Duff, Pink, Gwen Stefani...you know that type of music. I do enjoy most of it though. But after hearing the same song for what feels like 100 times in one day on the radio, it makes it less likable. My daughters and I counted the number of times we heard "Big Girls Don't Cry" by Fergie one day a couple of weeks ago. We were out running errands, in and out of the car for a few hours and heard that song 5 times!!! And who knows how many times it was played while we were out of the car. Now I like the song but that was a bit much. But now everytime we hear the song we all laugh and remind the others how many times we heard it that day.

For me, the words on a song are like a story. And I love to read and love to write and the words are what really appeal to me. But it must have a catchy beat also. So the perfect song has a great story and an awesome beat.

Does anyone else ever listen to the words on a song and think it was written just for them? Or that the writer must have peeked in a day in your life?

The power of music...a beautiful thing.

Monday Morning Blues

tag1114 | 13 August, 2007 09:04

What do they say: rainy days and Mondays always get me down?

Well, normally neither bother me too much and it's not raining but today is the first day of school! On a Monday??? What a way to start a week. I offically have a 4th grader and 2nd grader. It sure was hard to wake up early, shower, dress, make breakfast(which wasn't eaten because of nerves), pack lunches, take the obligatory first day of school pictures, try to help calm nerves while battling my own case of the butterflies and doing all of this before 7:00 when we left for school.

My 9 year old was having a rough time this morning. Her nerves had been bad for about a week and starting about Thursday, last week, they were very bad. She was close to being sick this morning, poor baby. She's never been like this. I'm not sure exactly what was going on with her. I don't know if she's changing and the horomones have the best of her or if this has to do with being insecure right now because of the impending divorce. Whatever the cause, she was upset but trying so hard to be strong. I know she'll be fine. In fact, it's after 8:00 now and she's probably already fine.

My 7 year old said she was nervous but certainly acted fine. She was all decked out in her new Hello Kitty outfit, a borrowed necklace and bracelet from me, new shoes and a huge smile. She wasn't able to eat though so I know she must have been nervous some. She told me not to walk her in this morning because that would embarrass her, LOL. My oldest wanted me to walk her in but I knew that would make matters worse for her so I told her to go in today alone...that was tough for me to do but I really did do it for her good.

The first day of school brings different emotions or feelings for everyone. Some are anxious for their kids to get back to school because all summer the parents have heard "I'm bored" or they've listened to the constant fighting and bickering among siblings or they just like the routine that school brings. Others aren't too anxious about school starting because they know that adds more to their already busy schedule, homework to help with, lunches to pack and school functions to attend. Some enjoy the summer schedule, staying up later, waking up later, not rushing to get out the front door and maybe just a more relaxed feeling. And still others just miss their kids. I fall somewhere in all of these groups. My kids have had days of bickering and getting on my nerves and I wished for school to start. I do accomplish more when they're in school so I like that school schedule...for a while. Then again, I love the relaxed feeling of no homework to deal with during the summer, staying up a little later, sleeping in and having some fun activities while they're out of school. But I totally miss my kids when they're at school.

Today will be a long day for me. I'll clock watch all day, just waiting for 2:00 to appear on my clock. I do have some errands to run and I'm hoping that will pass some of the day a little faster. But until 2:00, I'll think about my "growing up too quickly" girls who are having their first day of school as a 2nd and 4th grader. I hope they have a wonderful day. And as if tradition for me, I pick up some cupcakes, a couple of balloons and small gift for when they get home......just a reminder to them, that I thought about them on their first day of school!

For now, I'll go watch the clock!

Do You Ever Feel Like.....

tag1114 | 08 August, 2007 21:06

you're chasing your tail? I sure do lately. School is starting in just a few days so we've been trying to get school clothes together, buying the few needed items, the monsterous lists of supplies and the items we have already at home that need to be found, washed or just put in the backpack. Along with that, I've been trying to help my mom and dad out some. My mom's health has had a major decline over the past year, though she's had health problems for years. My dad isn't in the best of health and along with working a full time job, he's taken on helping my mom with her job, doing most of the cooking, cleaning, shopping and yard work. And he helps me out alot with my own large yard and home repairs. So I'm trying to pick up the slack by cleaning their house and helping my mom when I can with shopping and errands and such. Of course, I do not mind at all helping them. I've very glad to be in a position to do it. And there's the soon to be divorce to think about and prepare for. I still have daily work at home and taking care of my kids, cooking, cleaning and doing laundry for us.

So I feel that I'm a cook, maid, cleaner, chauffeur, nurse, accountant, landscaping amateur, pet care person, shopper, bargain hunter, lawncare wanna-be and basically a jack of all trades. But, you know what, it's fine. It's made me a stronger person, more independent person and happier person. It's rewarding to know that I can care for my children, my parents to some degree, myself, our pets(a guinea pig and fish), the house, the laundry, the yard.....it really feels great to know that I can hold it all together. But yes, I still feel like I'm chasing my tail!

On top of all the work, our cable, both TV and internet have been in and out of service for several days. Yesterday I spent almost 2 hours trying to get through to Comcast to let them know that our cable wasn't working. We had some channels but others were out. Of course, Disney channel was out and my kids weren't impressed. I finally get through only to be told that they'll come out on Friday to fix the problem. FRIDAY?? But later, I had to call back to report a different problem and was told that they did not need to come out Friday because it was a problem on their end and it would fix itself...soon....but at midnight I was on the phone again as the non digital TVs were fine but the one TV with digital cable was still out. The internet has still been in and out all day. I think this is day 3 or 4 now. By last night, I felt dizzy from all the tail chasing.

I don't mean to complain though and this was certainly not written with a complaining attitude. Because despite the busy, hectic and sometimes frustrating days, I count my blessings. My children and I are healthy, we have a wonderful, loving, caring support system, we have friends and an amount of love to carry us through those difficult times, difficult days. And above all else, we chase our tails TOGETHER!!

The Year That Flew By

tag1114 | 05 August, 2007 23:34

It's been almost 1 year since my soon to be ex and I talked about changing our lives. I really can't believe it's been that long. I feel like it was just yesterday. I can remember the day, the phone call, what I was wearing, what I was doing and how I felt after that first talk. I felt like I had been hit by a semi truck, almost sick, nervous, scared. The next couple of months didn't feel much better as we had decided to see if we still felt the same then. He did, I did so forward we went. We started down the path that would bring heartache, secrets, pain, tears, a little laughter, much strength and determination. Yes we headed down the road that is divorce. I know I've written quite a bit about divorce. Unfortunately, at this moment it's consuming my life. I'm still unsettled, still not sure what the future will bring and not sure exactly where I'll end up when this is finished. And it will be finished....soon.....in about 3 weeks I will officially be single. I've had days when that thought excited me, days where it scared the hell out of me and days where I just wanted to cry. Divorce is a journey indeed. It's a mental game, a physically demanding activity and a state of emotions on most days. I do remind myself that one day there will be closure and life will go forward. Am I reminding myself or trying to convince myself? I really don't know at this point. I'm ready for it to be over though. I'm ready to have peace of mind. I've had so many butterflies in my stomach for months now that I'm not sure what normal feels like anymore. So while this year has definitely flown by for me, I'm hoping that the sacrifice of emotions, feelings, life and time over the past year will be worth it....soon....very soon.....

For now my wish is to have time stand still for just a week or so. Let me catch up, let my mind rest, my body relax and let me remember to not wish time away. I know time will not stand still though so I must live in the moment, even the moments that aren't so fun. I must enjoy each moment of time with my kids, family and friends and I must just live. I truly feel like I lost this past year. I plan on living life more fully and not letting another year fly by without my flying with it!

The Pickle Jar

tag1114 | 03 August, 2007 19:40

This was sent to me and I feel it's worth sharing. I don't know if it's true or not but if it makes even one person stop and think for just a minute, puts a smile on your face or a tear in your eye or changes how you do one thing in life, then's it's worth sharing, true or not.

~~Enjoy~~

   The pickle jar as far back as I can remember sat on the floor
beside the dresser in my parents' bedroom. When he got ready for bed, Dad would empty his pockets and toss his coins into the jar.
As a small boy I was always fascinated at the sounds the coins made as they were dropped into the jar They landed with a merry jingle when the jar was almost empty. Then the tones gradually muted to a dull thud as the jar was filled.   I used to squat on the floor in front of the jar and admire the copper
and silver circles that glinted like a pirate's treasure when the sun poured through the bedroom window. When the jar was filled, Dad would sit at the kitchen table and roll the coins before taking them to the bank.
   Taking the coins to the bank was always a big production. Stacked neatly in a small cardboard box, the coins were placed between Dad and me on the seat of his old truck.
   Each and every time, as we drove to the bank, Dad would look at me hopefully. "Those coins are going to keep you out of the textile mill, son. You're going to do better than me. This old mill town's not going to hold you back."
   Also, each and every time, as he slid the box of rolled coins across the counter at the bank toward the cashier, he would grin proudly "These are for my son's college fund. He'll never work at the mill all his life like me."
   We would always celebrate each deposit by stopping for an ice cream cone. I always got chocolate. Dad always got vanilla. When the clerk at the ice cream parlor handed Dad his change, he would show me the few coins nestled in his palm. "When we get home, we'll start filling the jar again." He always let me drop the first coins into the empty jar. As they rattled around with a brief, happy jingle, we grinned at each other. "You'll get to college on pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters," he said. "But you'll get there. I'll see to that"
   The years passed, and I finished college and took a job in another town. Once, while visiting my parents, I used the phone in their bedroom, and noticed that the pickle jar was gone. It had served its purpose and had been removed.
   A lump rose in my throat as I stared at the spot beside the dresser where the jar had always stood. My dad was a man of few words, and never lectured me on the values of determination, perseverance, and faith. The pickle jar had taught me all these virtues far more eloquently than the most flowery of words could have done. When I married, I told my
wife Susan about the significant part the lowly pickle jar had played in my life as a boy. In my mind, it defined, more than anything else, how much my dad had loved me.   No matter how rough things got at home, Dad continued to doggedly drop his coins into the jar. Even the summer when Dad got laid off from
the mill, and Mama had to serve dried beans several times a week, not a single dime was taken from the jar.
   To the contrary, as Dad looked across the table at me, pouring catsup over my beans to make them more palatable, he became more determined than ever to make a way out for me. "When you finish college, Son," he told me, his eyes glistening, "You'll never have to eat beans again - unless you want to."
   The first Christmas after our daughter Jessica was born, we spent the holiday with my parents. After dinner, Mom and Dad sat next to each other on the sofa, taking turns cuddling their first grandchild. Jessica began to whimper softly, and Susan took her from Dad's arms.    "She probably needs to be changed," she said, carrying the baby into my parents' bedroom to diaper her. When Susan came back into the living room, there was a strange mist in her eyes.   She handed Jessica back to Dad before taking my hand and leading me into the room. "Look," she said softly, her eyes directing me to a spot on the floor beside the dresser. To my amazement, there, as if it had never been removed, stood the old pickle jar, the bottom already covered with coins. I walked over to the pickle jar, dug down into my pocket, and pulled out a fistful of coins. With a gamut of emotions choking me, I dropped the coins into the jar. I looked up and saw that Dad, carrying Jessica, had slipped quietly into the room. Our eyes locked, and I knew he was feeling the same emotions I felt. Neither one of us could speak.
   This truly touched my heart. I know it has yours as well.
Sometimes we are so busy adding up our troubles that we forget to count our blessings.
   Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life, for better or for worse.

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