So, most of you know that I just got done doing my scuba diving certification. I've shared some on facebook, but I'd like to go into more detail, and I don't want to bore those of you who aren't interested.
So, visibility wasn't amazing either day we were out there. The first day was amazing though. We swam out to the 'big buddha' here in the bay by Hawaii Kai. There are a few others there, two small ones, and another 'big' one that is laying in a sandy area. The Buddhas are incredible in their own right. I love seeing the corals growing on them, and how different they all are.
As we approached the big Buddha, there were three green sea turtles swimmung up and around it. One was a huge one, just MASSIVE! The other two were smaller, then smaller again. They were so perfect and beautiful. And to see them swimming up around the statue like that? Breath taking.
Then, swimming around the crater, we saw a moray eel hiding in a little space under the edge of the crater. He saw us, watched us for a while, and then swam out. He followed us around the edge of the crater as we swam. He was probably 3 feet or more!!
There were so many tropical fish, I couldn't begin to describe them all. Several different types of clown fish, trigger fish, tangs, and so many more. I can't wait to get a camera so that I can get great pictures to share with you guys.
On the second day we swam by the two smaller Buddhas, to the one laying in the sand, then over to the big one. On our second dive (Turtle Cove), we swam over the reef beds, back and forth. The surges were pretty intense!! We swam past a VERY young turtle, and he was SO close to me! It wouldn't have taken much for me to have touched him. Of course, I'd never do that, because it's a $25K fine if you do!!
I wish I could fully describe the utter beauty that is diving. If you haven't, and want to, GO! You won't regret it. I've always had dreams that I could fly or that I could swim underwater and breathe (a la mermaid). Diving is the perfect combination of the two. The current/surges feels like wind against your face, and it feels like 'flying'. Getting to see those creatures in their natural habitat is absolutely incredible. Seeing them in an aquarium, no matter how well done it is, does not even begin to compare to getting to swim next to them.
My door is open, couch is available (and air mattress). Y'all come visit us and go diving with me.
Aloha!!!
Monday, August 14, 2017
Tuesday, August 8, 2017
Running is Hell
So, I decided to take up running. I'm not fully sure why. Partly because I need to get in shape. Partly because it's a cheap workout. I definitely think I picked the wrong excersize hobby.
Running is hell. I don't care what anyone says. I'm on my "second" week of Couch to 5K, and I feel like death. My legs are sore as all hell. My calves are cramped and sore. I haven't felt a 'runner's high' yet. I'm awaiting on it. I'm praying for it.
Today, I pushed my three year old in one of those bike carriers for kids that turn into a stroller of sorts. I thought just running was hell. Add in an extra thirty pounds of kid. Holy crap. So much worse.
But, I'm not going to quit. I'm going to keep it up. Why? Because I'm going to make running my bitch. I'm going to keep pushing. I'm going to get to the point it doesn't hurt. I'm going to get there. It's just going to take a while. It won't be easy. I'm probably going to complain a lot more. I'm probably going to hurt a hell of a lot more.
I am going to set an example for my girls that just because something is hard, you don't give up. You keep going, and you fight to get better. Running is hell, but it's also one hell of a life lesson.
Running is hell. I don't care what anyone says. I'm on my "second" week of Couch to 5K, and I feel like death. My legs are sore as all hell. My calves are cramped and sore. I haven't felt a 'runner's high' yet. I'm awaiting on it. I'm praying for it.
Today, I pushed my three year old in one of those bike carriers for kids that turn into a stroller of sorts. I thought just running was hell. Add in an extra thirty pounds of kid. Holy crap. So much worse.
But, I'm not going to quit. I'm going to keep it up. Why? Because I'm going to make running my bitch. I'm going to keep pushing. I'm going to get to the point it doesn't hurt. I'm going to get there. It's just going to take a while. It won't be easy. I'm probably going to complain a lot more. I'm probably going to hurt a hell of a lot more.
I am going to set an example for my girls that just because something is hard, you don't give up. You keep going, and you fight to get better. Running is hell, but it's also one hell of a life lesson.
Sunday, July 16, 2017
Here We Go Again
I took quite a break from blogging. I'm back. Life sure has a way of bringing us back to where it thinks we should be. Nevermind what we want for ourselves. I sure have learned that the hard way over the last few years.
I've learned and grown, I've loved, lost, and gained so much in the last few years.
I'm not going to try tyo use this like a diary, but since I've been gone so long, I figure updating on who I am and what not is in order.
Still a milso, added a kid, and now we are back at our very first duty station, a half a world away from family. I have lost all of my grandparents, and several friends since I started this blog and took a break.
It's hard to believe that the support system I've had my whole life has changed as drastically as it has in the last three years, but here we are. I know I'm lucky in a way because I knew my grandparents far better than most people my age. My parents had me VERY young. My grandparents had them VERY young as well. I got to have a relationship with those men and women that not so many people get. Losing my grandmother was ungodly hard. She taught me to cook from 4500 miles away, over the phone. I talked to her every day. And now she is just gone. In a year and a half, my other grandmother went from the most bad ass, I don't need shit from nobody, hell on heels woman, to having to go to dialysis and chemo. Breast cancer is a bitch. Especially triple negative. It will take someone from you in just 6 months.
The worst is that I never really got to say goodbye to any of them. I wasn't there. I didn't even get to go to all the funerals. That hurt.
Now we're 4500 miles away again. My baby brother isn't a baby anymore. My sister has been widowed. My other brother, well, God has his eye on him. Family changes, grows, and fluxes. But somehow, you always end up back exactly where life wants you to be. You can plan all you want to. Life is going to laugh in your face and pull out all the stops.
So, I'm back. I'm going to try to keep this and a business blog going. Let's see how that goes. I'm going to have some Aloha spirit, try to get healthy, stay active, and kick life's ass for a while.
Hold on to your asses.
I've learned and grown, I've loved, lost, and gained so much in the last few years.
I'm not going to try tyo use this like a diary, but since I've been gone so long, I figure updating on who I am and what not is in order.
Still a milso, added a kid, and now we are back at our very first duty station, a half a world away from family. I have lost all of my grandparents, and several friends since I started this blog and took a break.
It's hard to believe that the support system I've had my whole life has changed as drastically as it has in the last three years, but here we are. I know I'm lucky in a way because I knew my grandparents far better than most people my age. My parents had me VERY young. My grandparents had them VERY young as well. I got to have a relationship with those men and women that not so many people get. Losing my grandmother was ungodly hard. She taught me to cook from 4500 miles away, over the phone. I talked to her every day. And now she is just gone. In a year and a half, my other grandmother went from the most bad ass, I don't need shit from nobody, hell on heels woman, to having to go to dialysis and chemo. Breast cancer is a bitch. Especially triple negative. It will take someone from you in just 6 months.
The worst is that I never really got to say goodbye to any of them. I wasn't there. I didn't even get to go to all the funerals. That hurt.
Now we're 4500 miles away again. My baby brother isn't a baby anymore. My sister has been widowed. My other brother, well, God has his eye on him. Family changes, grows, and fluxes. But somehow, you always end up back exactly where life wants you to be. You can plan all you want to. Life is going to laugh in your face and pull out all the stops.
So, I'm back. I'm going to try to keep this and a business blog going. Let's see how that goes. I'm going to have some Aloha spirit, try to get healthy, stay active, and kick life's ass for a while.
Hold on to your asses.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Oh How the World Turns
Boy oh boy does life keep going. Even when you just need a five minute break, life says, "No, we must keep moving!" There's so much going on in our lives right now/just got done going on. Some days it feels like treading water to keep your head above the water.
My husband has been in training for the last two years. ONE test determines if he gets to do the job. He did not pass that test. (It's a VERY hard test, and not that many people actually pass it.) So, he's been waiting for three months to find out what job he'll be doing. Finally, he's been assigned a job and will leave in a few weeks to go do some training for it. After a few months, we'll move house to God only knows where.
On top of all that? We're expecting our second child. I have no idea where I'll be delivering as I'm due several months after we will move. It's very strange to think of that. I'm on an anti-nausea for the morning sickness, laxatives because constipation is a side effect of pregnancy AND the anti-nausea meds, prenatals, and my anti-depressant. I feel like an 80 year old lady with the number of pills I need to take some days. I'm very excited for this pregnancy, but I certainly hope it's our last. We'd like one of each gender, and we've already got a girl. We'll see how it goes.
Our daughter is growing and getting smarter every day. I'm really worried about her with the upcoming move as I don't know how she will react. She was only a year when we moved the first time, so it didn't throw her off too much. She's a Cinderella (all things Disney) - loving, must be fully dressed every day, diva. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I am truly in awe of this kid! It's amazing to me to watch her grow and learn and develop a personality. She is funny, loving, caring, and inquisitive. She is my little miracle.
As far as my mild depression/anxiety, I've been on the anti depressant for a month now. I am truly seeing a difference in myself with it. I'm not as stressed, little things don't get to me as quickly, and I don't even have the same amount of road rage as before. I'm calmer in general, and I feel better. I'm so blessed to have friends that pushed me to do something about it instead of letting me be afraid/paranoid to do so.
That's all the updates I have for now.
God Bless
My husband has been in training for the last two years. ONE test determines if he gets to do the job. He did not pass that test. (It's a VERY hard test, and not that many people actually pass it.) So, he's been waiting for three months to find out what job he'll be doing. Finally, he's been assigned a job and will leave in a few weeks to go do some training for it. After a few months, we'll move house to God only knows where.
On top of all that? We're expecting our second child. I have no idea where I'll be delivering as I'm due several months after we will move. It's very strange to think of that. I'm on an anti-nausea for the morning sickness, laxatives because constipation is a side effect of pregnancy AND the anti-nausea meds, prenatals, and my anti-depressant. I feel like an 80 year old lady with the number of pills I need to take some days. I'm very excited for this pregnancy, but I certainly hope it's our last. We'd like one of each gender, and we've already got a girl. We'll see how it goes.
Our daughter is growing and getting smarter every day. I'm really worried about her with the upcoming move as I don't know how she will react. She was only a year when we moved the first time, so it didn't throw her off too much. She's a Cinderella (all things Disney) - loving, must be fully dressed every day, diva. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I am truly in awe of this kid! It's amazing to me to watch her grow and learn and develop a personality. She is funny, loving, caring, and inquisitive. She is my little miracle.
As far as my mild depression/anxiety, I've been on the anti depressant for a month now. I am truly seeing a difference in myself with it. I'm not as stressed, little things don't get to me as quickly, and I don't even have the same amount of road rage as before. I'm calmer in general, and I feel better. I'm so blessed to have friends that pushed me to do something about it instead of letting me be afraid/paranoid to do so.
That's all the updates I have for now.
God Bless
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Breaking Down the Walls
Today, I want to talk about something that's still very taboo in our society. Mental health. I'm the first to admit, I will tell you to seek help all day long. But - guess who had to be pushed into taking her own advice? Yeah, that's right. Me.
I have a family history of a few disorders. I knew something was off with me. I didn't want to go in. I can handle it. I'm fine. I always have been, and I can continue to do so. That was my attitude. So when a friend and mental health advocate pushed me - I finally sought help. Today was my first appointment. I'm going to share my diagnosis, and I'll try to keep up with my progress, with everything that it entails.
It's scary. I almost canceled the appointment a few times. Especially after I found out about my current pregnancy. But wait, that's an even better reason to go. So...go I did. My diagnosis is this: mild depression and anxiety. However, I have several of the 'lower' indicators of bipolar disorder. I don't have any of the 'big' indicators though. This means I'm not bipolar, but I do have a high chance of 'becoming' bipolar.
I'm glad to know exactly what I'm working with now. Now we can treat it, and I can become a better me. I'm not sharing this for sympathy, attention, what have you. I'm sharing this, because maybe someone reading it, will hear me and seek help that they need. Don't be afraid to seek that help.
I have a family history of a few disorders. I knew something was off with me. I didn't want to go in. I can handle it. I'm fine. I always have been, and I can continue to do so. That was my attitude. So when a friend and mental health advocate pushed me - I finally sought help. Today was my first appointment. I'm going to share my diagnosis, and I'll try to keep up with my progress, with everything that it entails.
It's scary. I almost canceled the appointment a few times. Especially after I found out about my current pregnancy. But wait, that's an even better reason to go. So...go I did. My diagnosis is this: mild depression and anxiety. However, I have several of the 'lower' indicators of bipolar disorder. I don't have any of the 'big' indicators though. This means I'm not bipolar, but I do have a high chance of 'becoming' bipolar.
I'm glad to know exactly what I'm working with now. Now we can treat it, and I can become a better me. I'm not sharing this for sympathy, attention, what have you. I'm sharing this, because maybe someone reading it, will hear me and seek help that they need. Don't be afraid to seek that help.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
My Affair with Sleep
If you're a parent of a young child (under about 10), you know that sleep is a rare and elusive thing. We all cope one way or another: coffee, sleep aids, energy drinks, power naps, whatever works, right? I think once you have a kid, you'll never ever sleep like before. But, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. There are those nights your kid actually ASKS to go to bed, or goes to bed with no fight at all. And then they actually, you know, sleep!
My little one is just past 3 now, and she still has her nights that she wakes up 3-4 times a night, but overall, sleep and I have resumed our affair. Some times, she even lets me sleep in. Oh yes. Sleep - in. Past 8 am. *enter chorus of angels*
I'm no expert. I only have one kid, and she's only three. But here's my 'mommy advice': It DOES get better. At some point, THEY start realizing how awesome sleep is and they want to do it ALL the time. (Maybe around the teens, right? That's when I remember it hitting.)
Now...if you have more than one under 10 - well...you're probably not going to get the full wedded bliss for a bit longer, but one day, it will be there.
Now...where'd I put that cup of coffee??
My little one is just past 3 now, and she still has her nights that she wakes up 3-4 times a night, but overall, sleep and I have resumed our affair. Some times, she even lets me sleep in. Oh yes. Sleep - in. Past 8 am. *enter chorus of angels*
I'm no expert. I only have one kid, and she's only three. But here's my 'mommy advice': It DOES get better. At some point, THEY start realizing how awesome sleep is and they want to do it ALL the time. (Maybe around the teens, right? That's when I remember it hitting.)
Now...if you have more than one under 10 - well...you're probably not going to get the full wedded bliss for a bit longer, but one day, it will be there.
Now...where'd I put that cup of coffee??
Friday, March 1, 2013
The Not-So-Together Housewife
I'm not the best housewife ever. My house is NOT always immaculate, the kid isn't always dressed to the nines, and dinner isn't always ready when my husband walks in the door. But, I do my best. Yes, I have clutter around, and yes, if you go upstairs, you'll find my dirty little secret (I rarely clean it).
But this week, I've been good. I've kept the house (downstairs) pretty darn clean, even cleaned our bathroom upstairs, and kept dishes done. I've done the floors more than once this week, and keeping things done throughout the week, keeps it clean easier. Yep. You've heard it on blogs galore, pinterest pins about keeping your house clean in 15 minutes, etc. It does work. If you a "little" cleaning every day, it's really not that bad. Not that I scrub baseboards or anything. I still have laundry that needs folding...but hey...overall, it's clean and I feel great.
Just a short note/blog. I am about to go do 'busy housewife stuff' and get tea made for a spouse get together, and then host a Lia Sophia party. Woo!
But this week, I've been good. I've kept the house (downstairs) pretty darn clean, even cleaned our bathroom upstairs, and kept dishes done. I've done the floors more than once this week, and keeping things done throughout the week, keeps it clean easier. Yep. You've heard it on blogs galore, pinterest pins about keeping your house clean in 15 minutes, etc. It does work. If you a "little" cleaning every day, it's really not that bad. Not that I scrub baseboards or anything. I still have laundry that needs folding...but hey...overall, it's clean and I feel great.
Just a short note/blog. I am about to go do 'busy housewife stuff' and get tea made for a spouse get together, and then host a Lia Sophia party. Woo!
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
An Obsession Begins
I had decided to take a friend to the local store that carries Filofax to 'kill time and get a fix'. While there, we browsed, checked out their stationary, got a few ideas for dividers, etc. The first time I was in this store, I was (not directly or politely) asked to stop 'handling them so much as it might damage them'. I don't see how my handling them was any worse than the way they were stacked on the shelf, but I digress. I decided to give the shop a second shot to see the Finsbury while I waited. Once I got home, there she was. I've noticed some folks name their Filos...I may have to give this gal a name!
I think the only issue I have with it right now is that it doesn't lay flat. Not that it's a HUGE issue, because I'm sure with time and usage, that will cease to be such an issue as it is.
I love that even though I really do have quite a good bit in there, it's not OVERLY stuffed. It's a really beautiful size, and though I'd like an A5 at some point, I LOVE the personal size.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
The Planner Underground
My mother is a very fun lady. Ever since I was a kid, I've found her to be...well...quirky. It's easy to see where I get it from. I adore my mother. Lately, she has lead me down a path of darkness. And by darkness, I mean...well, you'll see.
See, Mom is a date-booking freak. We called it her date book growing up, because all her 'dates' were in it. And I mean everything. Ball game this week? It was in Mom's planner. School play? In Mom's planner. And she wouldn't let you forget things either.
Now I'm a mom, and I have a direct sales business, and I'm a military spouse. There's a lot to keep up with under those three small titles there! I thought I'd attempt the 'planner' thing again. I bought a cute little planner from Target, and thought it'd be cake. Nope. Two-three weeks later, I was forgetting it at home, not using it, not even looking at it. So what did I do? I called SuperMom for help. Why isn't it working? What do I do to MAKE myself use this? And a care package arrived.
To make a good point of the difference that was made...Here are a few pictures...
Before:
The tabs and pages that came with the planner.
And this is the hard plastic flyleaf that came with the planner.
This is a week or so into using it. I already have 3 tabbies (I love these, and think they may be my favorite).
See, Mom is a date-booking freak. We called it her date book growing up, because all her 'dates' were in it. And I mean everything. Ball game this week? It was in Mom's planner. School play? In Mom's planner. And she wouldn't let you forget things either.
Now I'm a mom, and I have a direct sales business, and I'm a military spouse. There's a lot to keep up with under those three small titles there! I thought I'd attempt the 'planner' thing again. I bought a cute little planner from Target, and thought it'd be cake. Nope. Two-three weeks later, I was forgetting it at home, not using it, not even looking at it. So what did I do? I called SuperMom for help. Why isn't it working? What do I do to MAKE myself use this? And a care package arrived.
To make a good point of the difference that was made...Here are a few pictures...
Before:
Skinny, unattractive little thing.
The tabs and pages that came with the planner.
And After:
This is after I got my care package and got everything in it.
This is how I've got my direct sales business cards set up, right in the front behind the hard plastic flyleaf.
I have one more card holder behind it for credit/debit cards.
I have a little obsession with Tinkerbell, so Mom sent plenty of Tink stickers.
This is the zip pouch that came in the care package.
More Tink on my bookmark. The lettering on the page matches the planner quite well.
And this is the hard plastic flyleaf that came with the planner.
This is a week or so into using it. I already have 3 tabbies (I love these, and think they may be my favorite).
Now you have my evolution into the planner underground!!
Monday, January 21, 2013
Pesky Thoughts
Heh. Back sooner than I thought. I went and read a few blogs I follow to get caught up. I'm horrible at remembering things that don't come with a notification of some sort.
One of these blogs was by a dear friend of mine talking about another of her friends moving, and how she herself would be moving soon. Which brought me to tears. If you've read previous blogs, you know my husband is in the US military. I won't EVER say which branch or what he does, to protect who we are/his job. But, part of military life is moving. We're currently on the West Coast. We were previously in Hawaii. When I moved to Hawaii to be with my husband, it was the first time I'd left the South. It's been a little over four years now, and I miss home as always. In a bit over a month, I'll be going home for a few months, while hubby wraps up some training. Then we're on to the East Coast and we'll be the closest to home we've been since we got married. I'm excited about that. I can't wait to be home. I can't wait for our daughter to be around her family. However, being a military family is a double edged sword. I have friends from Hawaii that I may never see again because of life: divorces, changing of careers, etc. I have friends from here that again, I may never see again. There are many branches in this area, and I've made friends with other branches than my husband's. We'll end up spread all over the country, and even overseas in some cases.
The women I've met here - are amazing. I so look forward to leaving and being close to home, but I desperately do not want to leave this band of women I've found here. This life is nothing like what Army Wives makes it look like. No one stays in one place SIX years like they have on that show. It just doesn't work that way. I've missed the births of some of my best friends' babies. I've missed birthdays for kids I was there for their birth. In this life - we (yes we do) choose to leave our families behind, and follow a man (or woman) we love where ever the military may send us. It doesn't make it easy, doesn't make it fun. Packing up and moving every 2-3 years sucks. Missing five holiday seasons with family in a row sucks. But we get the beautiful blessing of surrounding ourselves with a new kind of family. One that chooses to love you and hold you close to their hearts. One that chooses to call themselves 'aunts and uncles' to your children. And then, a year or so later, you're ripped apart. Those friendships NEVER die, because no matter how long it's been since either of you picked up a phone and called each other, you talk on fb, stalk each other's pictures, keep up with those kids, send cards, send presents.
So, it's bittersweet. I'm happy to be going home. I'm happy to be going to a place I'll be near old friends from Hawaii again. But I dread leaving these people. These ladies (and George*) have made this place so much more bearable for me. I love you guys, and you mean more to me than you will ever ever ever know.
*Names changed to protect my people.
Goodnight and God Bless
One of these blogs was by a dear friend of mine talking about another of her friends moving, and how she herself would be moving soon. Which brought me to tears. If you've read previous blogs, you know my husband is in the US military. I won't EVER say which branch or what he does, to protect who we are/his job. But, part of military life is moving. We're currently on the West Coast. We were previously in Hawaii. When I moved to Hawaii to be with my husband, it was the first time I'd left the South. It's been a little over four years now, and I miss home as always. In a bit over a month, I'll be going home for a few months, while hubby wraps up some training. Then we're on to the East Coast and we'll be the closest to home we've been since we got married. I'm excited about that. I can't wait to be home. I can't wait for our daughter to be around her family. However, being a military family is a double edged sword. I have friends from Hawaii that I may never see again because of life: divorces, changing of careers, etc. I have friends from here that again, I may never see again. There are many branches in this area, and I've made friends with other branches than my husband's. We'll end up spread all over the country, and even overseas in some cases.
The women I've met here - are amazing. I so look forward to leaving and being close to home, but I desperately do not want to leave this band of women I've found here. This life is nothing like what Army Wives makes it look like. No one stays in one place SIX years like they have on that show. It just doesn't work that way. I've missed the births of some of my best friends' babies. I've missed birthdays for kids I was there for their birth. In this life - we (yes we do) choose to leave our families behind, and follow a man (or woman) we love where ever the military may send us. It doesn't make it easy, doesn't make it fun. Packing up and moving every 2-3 years sucks. Missing five holiday seasons with family in a row sucks. But we get the beautiful blessing of surrounding ourselves with a new kind of family. One that chooses to love you and hold you close to their hearts. One that chooses to call themselves 'aunts and uncles' to your children. And then, a year or so later, you're ripped apart. Those friendships NEVER die, because no matter how long it's been since either of you picked up a phone and called each other, you talk on fb, stalk each other's pictures, keep up with those kids, send cards, send presents.
So, it's bittersweet. I'm happy to be going home. I'm happy to be going to a place I'll be near old friends from Hawaii again. But I dread leaving these people. These ladies (and George*) have made this place so much more bearable for me. I love you guys, and you mean more to me than you will ever ever ever know.
*Names changed to protect my people.
Goodnight and God Bless
Unhealthy Attachments
There are tons of new movies coming out every day. Most of them have very redundant themes at this point in the game. RomComs, dramas, horror flicks; they're pretty predictable. On occasion one comes along that is fairly original. If I haven't seen this storyline before, forgive me.
I just watched Ted. Now, this isn't really going to be a review of the movie, don't go thinking that. Rather, I'm about to talk about one of my 'seven things you don't know about me'. Some of you do know this, others don't.
I have a teddy bear. At one time in my life, I probably would have given an ovary for him to come to life and be my real life best friend. When I was a baby (literally), my grandmother happened to get me a Snuggle bear. Yeah, the one from the laundry detergent. His copyright date is 1986. Same as me. I've never been to more than a sleep over without this bear. I have had him my WHOLE LIFE. Even if he's not in the same room with me, he's been in the same house as me. I can't explain it, and it's crazy for an almost 27 year old woman, married with a kid, to have such an attachment to her bear, right? But here I am, after watching this movie, and I needed to hold my bear, have him next to me, in my arms.
When I met my husband and got ready to move to Hawaii with him, I packed all my stuff to take with me to go. His dad was shipping my things two weeks ahead of me. I put Snuggle in the box, taped it up, and immediately had one of the very few panic attacks I've ever had. I freaked. What if the box got lost? The postal service (including FedEx/UPS) loses THOUSANDS of parcels every single day! What if it got damaged, and he was harmed? I've taken such care of him my whole life. He had no tears, no rips, never lost an eye or nose. I had to call my mother and get her to talk me down. How did she do that? She convinced me that since I could take a 'pillow' on the plane with me, I should simply get the bear out of the box. I argued that I couldn't do that because he was already packed and the box was taped shut. She pointed out the obvious. I could tape the box back. So, I got him out of the box, and sat on the couch with him until I calmed down.
I don't understand it, and probably never will. But of all my 'worldly' possessions, this is the one that I would be most upset to lose. It's right up there with my pictures of my great grandfather. If I actually had time to save things other than important documents in a fire - the bear and the pictures of my great grandfather would be the first things I grabbed.
So, that's one more thing you may not have known about me. If you did - well, I hope you enjoyed reading anyway.
Goodnight and God Bless.
I just watched Ted. Now, this isn't really going to be a review of the movie, don't go thinking that. Rather, I'm about to talk about one of my 'seven things you don't know about me'. Some of you do know this, others don't.
I have a teddy bear. At one time in my life, I probably would have given an ovary for him to come to life and be my real life best friend. When I was a baby (literally), my grandmother happened to get me a Snuggle bear. Yeah, the one from the laundry detergent. His copyright date is 1986. Same as me. I've never been to more than a sleep over without this bear. I have had him my WHOLE LIFE. Even if he's not in the same room with me, he's been in the same house as me. I can't explain it, and it's crazy for an almost 27 year old woman, married with a kid, to have such an attachment to her bear, right? But here I am, after watching this movie, and I needed to hold my bear, have him next to me, in my arms.
When I met my husband and got ready to move to Hawaii with him, I packed all my stuff to take with me to go. His dad was shipping my things two weeks ahead of me. I put Snuggle in the box, taped it up, and immediately had one of the very few panic attacks I've ever had. I freaked. What if the box got lost? The postal service (including FedEx/UPS) loses THOUSANDS of parcels every single day! What if it got damaged, and he was harmed? I've taken such care of him my whole life. He had no tears, no rips, never lost an eye or nose. I had to call my mother and get her to talk me down. How did she do that? She convinced me that since I could take a 'pillow' on the plane with me, I should simply get the bear out of the box. I argued that I couldn't do that because he was already packed and the box was taped shut. She pointed out the obvious. I could tape the box back. So, I got him out of the box, and sat on the couch with him until I calmed down.
I don't understand it, and probably never will. But of all my 'worldly' possessions, this is the one that I would be most upset to lose. It's right up there with my pictures of my great grandfather. If I actually had time to save things other than important documents in a fire - the bear and the pictures of my great grandfather would be the first things I grabbed.
So, that's one more thing you may not have known about me. If you did - well, I hope you enjoyed reading anyway.
Goodnight and God Bless.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Oh, You Didn't Know?
Following in the Seven Things You Might Not Know About Me trend, tonight I'm going to talk about my insane attachment to my family. I LOVE my family. I HATE being a military spouse only because I can't pack my family and bring them with me on this journey. It breaks my hear that my daughter isn't getting spoiled like I did by my grandparents. She'd already be staying the night with them by now.
I am a Mama's Girl. My mother is one of my best friends, because I can tell her pretty much anything. She gives the best advice ever. When I'm sick, NO ONE makes me feel better other than my Mommy. When I'm sick, she's the only one I want. I hope I'm half the mother to my kids that she's been to us.
I am a Daddy's Girl. My Daddy makes me feel so safe. Daddy takes care of everything. I remember being really little and being afraid of monsters. He made me a monster spray and sprayed anywhere I thought monsters might be to kill them. He gives the BEST hugs.
My sister is my best friend. We are complete dorks when we are together. She is hilarious and fun to hang out with. We also have the worst fights. I don't think I've fought so hard with anyone as I have with her. I don't think I could stay sane most of the time if I didn't have her to talk to.
My brothers are...well...brothers. We love and fight. They're protective and annoying.
Why am I telling you about my family? These are suppose to be about me, right? Well, my family is a part of me. Maybe the most important part. They are where I come from, what made me who I am. Without them, I wouldn't be the woman I am today. I am truly blessed by my family.
I am a Mama's Girl. My mother is one of my best friends, because I can tell her pretty much anything. She gives the best advice ever. When I'm sick, NO ONE makes me feel better other than my Mommy. When I'm sick, she's the only one I want. I hope I'm half the mother to my kids that she's been to us.
I am a Daddy's Girl. My Daddy makes me feel so safe. Daddy takes care of everything. I remember being really little and being afraid of monsters. He made me a monster spray and sprayed anywhere I thought monsters might be to kill them. He gives the BEST hugs.
My sister is my best friend. We are complete dorks when we are together. She is hilarious and fun to hang out with. We also have the worst fights. I don't think I've fought so hard with anyone as I have with her. I don't think I could stay sane most of the time if I didn't have her to talk to.
My brothers are...well...brothers. We love and fight. They're protective and annoying.
Why am I telling you about my family? These are suppose to be about me, right? Well, my family is a part of me. Maybe the most important part. They are where I come from, what made me who I am. Without them, I wouldn't be the woman I am today. I am truly blessed by my family.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Seven Little Things
So, I haven't written in a little while, and I realize I've left you guys hanging. Not that I have many followers, but hey. We were on a bandwagon right? Seven things you may not know about me. Off the list I was given of some things about me was how I get SUPER emotional about the smallest things. We're going to explore this a bit tonight.
When I'm passionate about something, I'm passionate. Whether it's about cars, books, whatever, I lose my mind sometimes. When I read a series, I get really drawn in to the point that I feel like I know those characters intimately. So, I get just as excited talking about them and their adventures as I do my own family sometimes. I love cars. Cars are an amazing thing to me. Especially muscle cars. My god, the lines, the curves, the power! Everything about them makes me happy and I could live at a car show.
Some people find this trait of mine...eh...shall we say annoying? That's fine. I don't mind that. Heck, I annoy myself sometimes, so it's only natural I'd annoy others. But you have to understand, when I let that little 'squee' of joy out, maybe hop around in excitement, or just start talking insanely fast, it's because it's something IMPORTANT to me.
I also get this way when I just do not get something. I don't understand sometimes how people can be thick headed or how they can do mean and evil things. Yes, I get JUST as passionate about those things as others.
I cannot describe it myself, and it truly will take seeing it for yourself to fully understand. But, no matter what, remember that it's a part of who I am and something I really can't control about myself.
And a side note, I had NO idea how hard this was going to be...Not only to find the time to write these seven things, but also to come up with them and actually talk about me. I know, right? This girl? Unable to talk about herself? Mrs. Blabbermouth? Yeah, it's much harder than I ever thought it would be to actually write about ONE thing at a time about myself. Feedback is welcome as always.
When I'm passionate about something, I'm passionate. Whether it's about cars, books, whatever, I lose my mind sometimes. When I read a series, I get really drawn in to the point that I feel like I know those characters intimately. So, I get just as excited talking about them and their adventures as I do my own family sometimes. I love cars. Cars are an amazing thing to me. Especially muscle cars. My god, the lines, the curves, the power! Everything about them makes me happy and I could live at a car show.
Some people find this trait of mine...eh...shall we say annoying? That's fine. I don't mind that. Heck, I annoy myself sometimes, so it's only natural I'd annoy others. But you have to understand, when I let that little 'squee' of joy out, maybe hop around in excitement, or just start talking insanely fast, it's because it's something IMPORTANT to me.
I also get this way when I just do not get something. I don't understand sometimes how people can be thick headed or how they can do mean and evil things. Yes, I get JUST as passionate about those things as others.
I cannot describe it myself, and it truly will take seeing it for yourself to fully understand. But, no matter what, remember that it's a part of who I am and something I really can't control about myself.
And a side note, I had NO idea how hard this was going to be...Not only to find the time to write these seven things, but also to come up with them and actually talk about me. I know, right? This girl? Unable to talk about herself? Mrs. Blabbermouth? Yeah, it's much harder than I ever thought it would be to actually write about ONE thing at a time about myself. Feedback is welcome as always.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Bandwagons? Sure! I'll hop right on that!!
A friend of mine also has a blog. Though I don't know this lovely lady nearly as well as I'd like to, I certainly know her well enough to know, she knows a good thing when she sees it. See, she's from my 'neck of the woods' so to speak, and we seem to be on the same tack 90% of the time. She has been (trying) to do 'Seven Things You Probably Don't Know About Me'. I'm going to follow in her footsteps. Or...blogsteps? Either way, you get posts from me.
I'm going to post this first one (even though I 100% said I wouldn't) JUST for my 'wifey'. See, my best best friend and the only female besides my sister that I've ever lived with for more than just a few months, she hates something about me. She can't stand it. This woman would walk out on me if I did it. See, when I read (an actual book, not an e-book), I have a terrible habit. I flip the pages. It's strange, and hard to describe without showing you. I literally cannot read a paper book without doing this in some form. It doesn't matter if it's a magazine, novel, textbook, any type of book will do. If I'm reading, I do this. It's not even a conscious decision. I just do it. I have even tried to not do it. My parents hated it, too. I've sat on my hands to try and keep from doing it, but only end up reading the same few sentences over and over again. I have no idea when or why this started. I think maybe my love of books caused me to start it. I love the different feels of different types of paper. I could sit in a library all day, and simply feel the books. From the way they fit in my hands, to the material their covers are made from, to the type of paper it's pages are made of, I love books. In fact, I love them so much that I can literally get lost in them. I've had people stand 5 feet from me and call my name repeatedly, and the thing is, I'm not ignoring them, I don't hear them. I'm literally thousands of miles, and sometimes hundreds of years away. I cry when I read sad parts. Especially if its part of a series and I've become attached to the characters. I can talk about some characters like they're real people. (This, we'll get more into on another post in the series.) Books are one of my passions, and for reasons unknown to even me, I 'scrape' the pages of them when I read. Fact 1 that you may not have known about me.
Niaka Beth
I'm going to post this first one (even though I 100% said I wouldn't) JUST for my 'wifey'. See, my best best friend and the only female besides my sister that I've ever lived with for more than just a few months, she hates something about me. She can't stand it. This woman would walk out on me if I did it. See, when I read (an actual book, not an e-book), I have a terrible habit. I flip the pages. It's strange, and hard to describe without showing you. I literally cannot read a paper book without doing this in some form. It doesn't matter if it's a magazine, novel, textbook, any type of book will do. If I'm reading, I do this. It's not even a conscious decision. I just do it. I have even tried to not do it. My parents hated it, too. I've sat on my hands to try and keep from doing it, but only end up reading the same few sentences over and over again. I have no idea when or why this started. I think maybe my love of books caused me to start it. I love the different feels of different types of paper. I could sit in a library all day, and simply feel the books. From the way they fit in my hands, to the material their covers are made from, to the type of paper it's pages are made of, I love books. In fact, I love them so much that I can literally get lost in them. I've had people stand 5 feet from me and call my name repeatedly, and the thing is, I'm not ignoring them, I don't hear them. I'm literally thousands of miles, and sometimes hundreds of years away. I cry when I read sad parts. Especially if its part of a series and I've become attached to the characters. I can talk about some characters like they're real people. (This, we'll get more into on another post in the series.) Books are one of my passions, and for reasons unknown to even me, I 'scrape' the pages of them when I read. Fact 1 that you may not have known about me.
Niaka Beth
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Cannery Row
So, as some of you know, I recently went back to work. I'm back in part time retail. Not the most invigorating job in the world. But, I get to work in a very 'historic' place, with all sorts of fun tourist crap. Yes, crap. Mirror mazes, chocolate shops, restaurants, souvenir shops galore, and our little store. I'm not going into detail as to what my store is here. Don't need stalkers.
I've opened the store several mornings, meaning I get there around 9:45 or 10 am. It's really interesting to be on Cannery Row at that time of morning. All of the stores are opening up, and deliveries being made. It's quiet, and cool. It's a very interesting feeling to get to feel that place wake up. I've been there at all times of the day. Midday, walking around, shopping and enjoying the day, night time, enjoying the nightlife offered, and now early morning.
I'm not trying to wax poetic here, but I think that the morning is my favorite. There's just an amazing feeling of 'being a part of it' when you're there, seeing Cannery Row wake up. I can't really describe it. I just think it's amazing.
I've opened the store several mornings, meaning I get there around 9:45 or 10 am. It's really interesting to be on Cannery Row at that time of morning. All of the stores are opening up, and deliveries being made. It's quiet, and cool. It's a very interesting feeling to get to feel that place wake up. I've been there at all times of the day. Midday, walking around, shopping and enjoying the day, night time, enjoying the nightlife offered, and now early morning.
I'm not trying to wax poetic here, but I think that the morning is my favorite. There's just an amazing feeling of 'being a part of it' when you're there, seeing Cannery Row wake up. I can't really describe it. I just think it's amazing.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
My Hero
I promised a while back that I would eventually write about the greatest man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. This is a man I plan on naming my son after (if I ever get a son that is). This is a man who was always taking care of everyone else. This was my great grandfather.
I won't talk long (I hope). Some of you have heard a lot of this already. I talk about him a lot. My great grandfather, PawPaw to me, was born in 1926. He served in WWII. He came home and served on the local police force for 31 years. The earliest memories I have of him, are him getting ready for work. At that time, it was mostly him going to sit in the Burger King parking lot. I guess he was watching for speeders and waiting on calls. I remember riding around in his cruiser, going with him to direct traffic when one of the local elementary schools let out.
This man - he went above and beyond the role of grandfather. My mom's sperm donor skipped out on them when they were really young. I don't know the full story there, and I don't think I really need to. I know he left, and for a long time, didn't look back. My PawPaw stepped in and filled that void for them. He took care of them. That's why they call HIM Daddy.
Then I came into the world. I was his first great grandchild. He never stopped giving. He did so much for us as kids. From bringing all our favorite junk food and milk and drinks and anything our hearts desired to the house at least once a week, to taking one of the cars to the square for the Christmas Parade. He'd load that car down with snacks, drinks, and blankets. Then he'd come pick us up, drive back to town, and we'd walk from the car he'd picked us up in, to the car with the amazing view of the parade. Little things like that, to a kid, are huge. I remember when he got too sick to do that for us anymore and it broke my heart. Not because I was missing the parade (though that was part of it), but because Pawpaw wasn't there with us, even when we did get to see it. He didn't get to see me march with the band my senior year of high school.
When I started driving and went off to college, he always asked me (about 20 times in an hour) if I had gas in the car, when the last time the oil had been changed, and if I had air in the tires. Man, did it drive me crazy. Almost as much as when driving by a field of cotton, he'd tsk and say "Man, I wish you'd look at ALL that COTTON." I'd give anything to hear him say it now.
I spent most weekends that my parents let me, at their house. I stayed the night with them, stayed up late, watched t.v. and ate junk food. I'd rather go to their hour than to my friends' houses most of the time. I was spoiled.
He passed two days after my 20th birthday. I had an inkling when my dad called me that morning to ask me to come to his house. I was so selfish and self absorbed at the time, and I didn't want to. I didn't have enough gas to make it to work and back til pay day, unless my roommate came in with great tips during the week, and I couldn't figure out why he wanted me to come down so badly. Then, something in his voice go through to me. I'll never forget that day. I'll never forget hearing him on the phone with my mom telling her he loved her and that he was going to talk to me. I knew what he was going to say when he pulled me into the bear hugs only my dad can give. Knowing didn't make it hurt any less, though. That was almost six years ago. I'll be 26 in a month. Everyone always says time heals. That's not true. It hurts me just as much today, as it did then. I'll never get 'over' his loss. I can deal with it better now. I can't wait to tell my little girl about him. I can't wait until she's old enough to understand what an amazing man he was.
I've been thinking about him more than usual lately. Part of that is the fact that the anniversary is coming up. The other part is the beautiful song Miranda Lambert has out right now "Over You". The story behind the song is that her husband (Blake Shelton) lost his brother at a young age and wrote the song about him. He couldn't record it, but let her. Every time I hear it, I think of him again.
"But you went away,
How dare you?
I miss you.
They say I'll be okay,But I'm not going to ever get over you." - Over You by Miranda Lambert.
I won't talk long (I hope). Some of you have heard a lot of this already. I talk about him a lot. My great grandfather, PawPaw to me, was born in 1926. He served in WWII. He came home and served on the local police force for 31 years. The earliest memories I have of him, are him getting ready for work. At that time, it was mostly him going to sit in the Burger King parking lot. I guess he was watching for speeders and waiting on calls. I remember riding around in his cruiser, going with him to direct traffic when one of the local elementary schools let out.
This man - he went above and beyond the role of grandfather. My mom's sperm donor skipped out on them when they were really young. I don't know the full story there, and I don't think I really need to. I know he left, and for a long time, didn't look back. My PawPaw stepped in and filled that void for them. He took care of them. That's why they call HIM Daddy.
Then I came into the world. I was his first great grandchild. He never stopped giving. He did so much for us as kids. From bringing all our favorite junk food and milk and drinks and anything our hearts desired to the house at least once a week, to taking one of the cars to the square for the Christmas Parade. He'd load that car down with snacks, drinks, and blankets. Then he'd come pick us up, drive back to town, and we'd walk from the car he'd picked us up in, to the car with the amazing view of the parade. Little things like that, to a kid, are huge. I remember when he got too sick to do that for us anymore and it broke my heart. Not because I was missing the parade (though that was part of it), but because Pawpaw wasn't there with us, even when we did get to see it. He didn't get to see me march with the band my senior year of high school.
When I started driving and went off to college, he always asked me (about 20 times in an hour) if I had gas in the car, when the last time the oil had been changed, and if I had air in the tires. Man, did it drive me crazy. Almost as much as when driving by a field of cotton, he'd tsk and say "Man, I wish you'd look at ALL that COTTON." I'd give anything to hear him say it now.
I spent most weekends that my parents let me, at their house. I stayed the night with them, stayed up late, watched t.v. and ate junk food. I'd rather go to their hour than to my friends' houses most of the time. I was spoiled.
He passed two days after my 20th birthday. I had an inkling when my dad called me that morning to ask me to come to his house. I was so selfish and self absorbed at the time, and I didn't want to. I didn't have enough gas to make it to work and back til pay day, unless my roommate came in with great tips during the week, and I couldn't figure out why he wanted me to come down so badly. Then, something in his voice go through to me. I'll never forget that day. I'll never forget hearing him on the phone with my mom telling her he loved her and that he was going to talk to me. I knew what he was going to say when he pulled me into the bear hugs only my dad can give. Knowing didn't make it hurt any less, though. That was almost six years ago. I'll be 26 in a month. Everyone always says time heals. That's not true. It hurts me just as much today, as it did then. I'll never get 'over' his loss. I can deal with it better now. I can't wait to tell my little girl about him. I can't wait until she's old enough to understand what an amazing man he was.
I've been thinking about him more than usual lately. Part of that is the fact that the anniversary is coming up. The other part is the beautiful song Miranda Lambert has out right now "Over You". The story behind the song is that her husband (Blake Shelton) lost his brother at a young age and wrote the song about him. He couldn't record it, but let her. Every time I hear it, I think of him again.
"But you went away,
How dare you?
I miss you.
They say I'll be okay,But I'm not going to ever get over you." - Over You by Miranda Lambert.
I guess I rambled a little more than I'd anticipated. If you stuck it out, and read the whole thing, thank you. This was more for me than for you. Sometimes, I just need to read about him. Or write about him. Thanks for being my sounding board guys.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Dreams Do Come True
I'm only going to say a few things about this, then I'm moving on to the real topic. I am SO happy right now!! My husband loves me more than words can say. We were originally waiting to get my new truck until he got his re-enlistment bonus. However, the Jeep (suv) I was driving, had so many issues, and though it was in good shape, could have broken down any moment, and we'd have been out a vehicle. We went to have the oil changed in his car this past weekend and went to look at the trucks in the meantime. We happened to find the perfect truck, they got our payments where they needed to be, and we came home with it. It's a truck I've wanted most of my adult life, and I couldn't be happier about it.
Now, to the real subject. I HATE California drivers. With a passion. I was taught (and recall from when I got my license), that when merging onto the highway/interstate/freeway, you yield to those already ON said highway. Apparently in California, those on the highway already are suppose to yield to those merging. Why do I say this you ask? Well, our FIRST DAY in California, the entire way down to our post, (we came down during high traffic time) each time there was an on ramp, rather than letting one car in, go, one car in, go, those merging tried to squeeze 3-5 cars in front of ONE person. That's not how it works people. It's just NOT. And, it's been that way several other times, during less traffic times too. Yesterday however, driving to the beach with my angel girl and her uncle, I was on the freeway/highway, driving along, minding the speed limit and what not. Well, at one of the entrance ramps, rather than speed up and get in front of me, or slow down and get behind me, some JERK in a Prius (my new truck would eat that for breakfast and still be hungry), stayed right beside me, expecting me to yield to him. When I didn't, he laid on the horn obnoxiously. SO, I did what any gal would do. I flipped him off through the back glass of the truck. He flipped me off back as well, and blew past me as if I were the one in the wrong. What gives folks? Just because your 40-50 years old, doesn't mean that you get to drive any way you want. You still have to obey the rules of the road. And you're not going to be a jerk and lay on your horn at me, when I wasn't in the wrong, SIR. Things like this are why I hate this state. Absolutely NO common sense or common courtesy exist here.
So, lesson of the day? When driving, be sure to obey the rules of the road. Why? Because I won't move for you when I have the right of way. Nope. Not gonna. And if you hit me, because you were so full of self importance and think everyone should yield to you, I'm gonna sue your freaking pants off. And in my truck, your car is gonna be the one with the most damage. Jerk.
Now, to the real subject. I HATE California drivers. With a passion. I was taught (and recall from when I got my license), that when merging onto the highway/interstate/freeway, you yield to those already ON said highway. Apparently in California, those on the highway already are suppose to yield to those merging. Why do I say this you ask? Well, our FIRST DAY in California, the entire way down to our post, (we came down during high traffic time) each time there was an on ramp, rather than letting one car in, go, one car in, go, those merging tried to squeeze 3-5 cars in front of ONE person. That's not how it works people. It's just NOT. And, it's been that way several other times, during less traffic times too. Yesterday however, driving to the beach with my angel girl and her uncle, I was on the freeway/highway, driving along, minding the speed limit and what not. Well, at one of the entrance ramps, rather than speed up and get in front of me, or slow down and get behind me, some JERK in a Prius (my new truck would eat that for breakfast and still be hungry), stayed right beside me, expecting me to yield to him. When I didn't, he laid on the horn obnoxiously. SO, I did what any gal would do. I flipped him off through the back glass of the truck. He flipped me off back as well, and blew past me as if I were the one in the wrong. What gives folks? Just because your 40-50 years old, doesn't mean that you get to drive any way you want. You still have to obey the rules of the road. And you're not going to be a jerk and lay on your horn at me, when I wasn't in the wrong, SIR. Things like this are why I hate this state. Absolutely NO common sense or common courtesy exist here.
So, lesson of the day? When driving, be sure to obey the rules of the road. Why? Because I won't move for you when I have the right of way. Nope. Not gonna. And if you hit me, because you were so full of self importance and think everyone should yield to you, I'm gonna sue your freaking pants off. And in my truck, your car is gonna be the one with the most damage. Jerk.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Beating the Odds
Okay, something everyone may not know about me. I'm a sucker for people who beat the odds. I'm a huuuuuuuge softie. I'll tell you why. I've had a few family members who were given some very bad news.
I'll start with my Uncle. While I don't have very many remembrances of him, I can't recall a time I ever saw him without a smile on his face. He was diagnosed with leukemia and mental retardation at a young age. He never really had a mental capacity past that of a three year old. He passed away when I was 5. He was 13. It was the first funeral I can remember going to.
I also had a cousin, who I wasn't close to, and didn't see often, but he too, was always a happy person. Brian had cerebral palsy. He passed when he was 18. This is again, someone I cannot recall ever seeing without a smile on his face.
Now - why am I telling you all this? I'll explain. I've met a wonderful young lady out here in California. Her name is Alecia. I'm simply going to copy and paste her story for you.
I'll start with my Uncle. While I don't have very many remembrances of him, I can't recall a time I ever saw him without a smile on his face. He was diagnosed with leukemia and mental retardation at a young age. He never really had a mental capacity past that of a three year old. He passed away when I was 5. He was 13. It was the first funeral I can remember going to.
I also had a cousin, who I wasn't close to, and didn't see often, but he too, was always a happy person. Brian had cerebral palsy. He passed when he was 18. This is again, someone I cannot recall ever seeing without a smile on his face.
Now - why am I telling you all this? I'll explain. I've met a wonderful young lady out here in California. Her name is Alecia. I'm simply going to copy and paste her story for you.
Alecia was born with Spinal Muscular Atrophy. Also known as SMA. Her parents were told her diagnosis when she was 13 months. Alecia's mother began noticing signs when she was unable to lift her head or showing signs of normal physical child development. At the time that they were given her diagnosis, they were also given the devastating news that Alecia's life expectancy would most likely not surpass 3 years of age. At that time they also said that she would carry no expression like smile or laugh. Her parents refused to agree with this so they resorted to their faith in God. So needless to say here she at the age of 25 married and living life maintaining the SMILES and LAUGHTER that each day brings.
SMA is a genetic disease characterized by progressive degeneration of motor neurons in the spinal cord. The disorder causes weakness and wasting of the voluntary muscles. This weakness is also more severe in the legs than in the arms. In addition, it causes severe scoliosis of the spine. Which is seen in Alecia's case.
At the age of 19 Alecia was blessed to meet and fall in Love with her husband. In her words "Ive never thought marriage would be a part of my life. Having this disease makes life a little more challenging than the normal, but having a companion / life partner / husband / friend wiling to face those challenges with me opened my eyes to see that there is more to life than my disease has promised I cant have :)".
Alecia's husband being a Marine in the United States Military means they travel A LOT and flying is almost not an option. Currently they use a 2 door hatchback where Alecia's husband manually lifts her chair and puts it in the trunk, mind you the wheelchair is 5x her weight. Alecia lays down in the front seat which makes it impossible to see anywhere they are driving. Also making it at times very uncomfortable.
Now, I can tell you a few things I know about Alecia. She has one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen, she's so loving, and kind. And, she's beaten the odds already. I'm telling you this, because I have a favor to ask. Alecia and her husband are trying desperately to get a handicap van. They've started fundraising and entered contests. I want to get the word out and help this BEAUTIFUL person get everything she deserves. If you can help in anyway, you can always contact me directly (miasmommy1209@gmail.com), you can vote for her in the contest I'll post in a moment, and you can always pray.
Help this lady get what she deserves, and vote for her!! Please?
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Beware of Dog
So, to update, I finally got to talk to my doctor about my surgery. He came and spoke to me while I was still waking up, and had no idea what he said. What he'd said was this: there were NO signs of endometriosis, my tubes are clear, and all is well. There were a few cysts on my ovaries, which like he said, can be normal. He lanced them anyway, though. He did find scar tissue near my appendix and small intestine, which he took care of. Now, just to finish recovering from the surgery itself, and when we are ready to have more children, there will be no problems!
On to other things. On a discussion board for pets out here, a lady was complaining because another lady with an aggressive dog was monopolizing the dog park. That's a no no anyway. However, something got brought up on the subject of if x dog bites enough times, most counties will put that animal down. Now, here's where I have an issue with that. Even if your dog isn't in the wrong (say, kids come into your back yard - that's his territory, and he has every right to defend it), it is still a mark against him. If a kid runs up to a dog to pet it, and he bites, still your dog's fault. If the kids come rushing into the dog park, and get bitten, still the dog's fault.
Here's my issue with that. I was taught my whole life how to greet dogs I don't know. I was taught you ask to pet the dog, while standing a respectful distance from said dog. You let the dog smell you first, then you move slowly, and can pet the dog. You don't go into other people's yards without permission period. You don't go in the dog park, because dogs aren't allowed on your playground. That's their playground, not yours. WTF? When did this lack of respect start happening?? Or am I just Southern and old fashioned?
I will not hesitate to go off on a kid for doing wrong. I don't care if they are my child or not. Open my back gate to get your ball instead of knocking on my front door and asking to get it? I will yell at you! Then I'll tell you why I yelled. Come up to my dog and try to pet him without asking? I will reprimand you. Then I'll make you greet him properly. Come running into the dog park? I will stop you, explain why you can't, and tell you if your parent comes and tells me it's okay, you can come play with the doggies. I will not have my beloved family pet put down because your parents are too dumb or socially impaired to teach you basic manners and respect.
Now, since I know most of my audience isn't the age group in the wrong, it's the parents that don't teach the correct behavior to begin with, nor do they correct it when they see it happen, I have some words for you. Your kid gets bit by my dog, I dare you to 'sue' me or press charges. Because then, we'll have real issues, friend. You want to get mad at me for 'parenting' your child? Do it yourself! I shouldn't have to! You as their parent should care enough about their safety to teach them the proper way to greet and interact with strange animals. If they get hurt because you didn't teach them that, that is not my fault, not my dog's fault, but yours!! Do not try and punish me and mine for your mistakes!!
Now, I know there are cases where dogs attack without any reason. I've been in that situation myself. A dog that lived down the street, always barked at us when we were on our bikes. He never left 'his' area though. Til the day he bit me. He left his yard, chased me, and got my leg. We also had neighbors with aggressive rotts that weren't kept on leashes. One of them attacked my dog who was on a lead outside, in the middle of the night. Came down the street to attack my dog... Of course, there are instances like those, where the dog should be punished. Don't confuse my words. But if the dog is not at fault, it's wrong to put 'marks' on his record that can cause him to be put down...
Bottom line? Teach your kids (and yourself) how to act around dogs you don't know. Be aware and be safe.
On to other things. On a discussion board for pets out here, a lady was complaining because another lady with an aggressive dog was monopolizing the dog park. That's a no no anyway. However, something got brought up on the subject of if x dog bites enough times, most counties will put that animal down. Now, here's where I have an issue with that. Even if your dog isn't in the wrong (say, kids come into your back yard - that's his territory, and he has every right to defend it), it is still a mark against him. If a kid runs up to a dog to pet it, and he bites, still your dog's fault. If the kids come rushing into the dog park, and get bitten, still the dog's fault.
Here's my issue with that. I was taught my whole life how to greet dogs I don't know. I was taught you ask to pet the dog, while standing a respectful distance from said dog. You let the dog smell you first, then you move slowly, and can pet the dog. You don't go into other people's yards without permission period. You don't go in the dog park, because dogs aren't allowed on your playground. That's their playground, not yours. WTF? When did this lack of respect start happening?? Or am I just Southern and old fashioned?
I will not hesitate to go off on a kid for doing wrong. I don't care if they are my child or not. Open my back gate to get your ball instead of knocking on my front door and asking to get it? I will yell at you! Then I'll tell you why I yelled. Come up to my dog and try to pet him without asking? I will reprimand you. Then I'll make you greet him properly. Come running into the dog park? I will stop you, explain why you can't, and tell you if your parent comes and tells me it's okay, you can come play with the doggies. I will not have my beloved family pet put down because your parents are too dumb or socially impaired to teach you basic manners and respect.
Now, since I know most of my audience isn't the age group in the wrong, it's the parents that don't teach the correct behavior to begin with, nor do they correct it when they see it happen, I have some words for you. Your kid gets bit by my dog, I dare you to 'sue' me or press charges. Because then, we'll have real issues, friend. You want to get mad at me for 'parenting' your child? Do it yourself! I shouldn't have to! You as their parent should care enough about their safety to teach them the proper way to greet and interact with strange animals. If they get hurt because you didn't teach them that, that is not my fault, not my dog's fault, but yours!! Do not try and punish me and mine for your mistakes!!
Now, I know there are cases where dogs attack without any reason. I've been in that situation myself. A dog that lived down the street, always barked at us when we were on our bikes. He never left 'his' area though. Til the day he bit me. He left his yard, chased me, and got my leg. We also had neighbors with aggressive rotts that weren't kept on leashes. One of them attacked my dog who was on a lead outside, in the middle of the night. Came down the street to attack my dog... Of course, there are instances like those, where the dog should be punished. Don't confuse my words. But if the dog is not at fault, it's wrong to put 'marks' on his record that can cause him to be put down...
Bottom line? Teach your kids (and yourself) how to act around dogs you don't know. Be aware and be safe.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Recovery
So, to update, the surgery went well. I'm recovering quite well. I'm still not sure of what the results were, as my doctor came and spoke to me while I was still very very loopy. Two really small incisions are the only evidence of the surgery. I'm feeling much better.
Upon arriving they had me strip down to my gown, and began trying to run my IV. For whatever reason, normally, I don't have an issue with people finding my veins. Apparently, my nerves were so worked up that every time they touched my arm, my veins disappeared. So, they gave me a valium to relax me. After 5 attempts, my IV was in. Then they put the cute little hair net thing on me and wheeled me into the OR. I don't remember much, because they have me my sedative via IV almost immediately, and I was out. Upon waking, I only remember INTENSE pain and beginning to cry. They gave me some meds in my IV and I was out again for a bit. Then the doctor came in and spoke to me, thought I don't recall what he had to say, and I was free to go.
I had 24 hours of bed rest (of course, I was allowed up for food and bathroom breaks), which was really good. Today, I've been up a good bit. Got up and took the puppy to be neutered. By the time I got back however, I was miserable. Even though I'd taken my meds, I was very very tired and sickly feeling. I slept for a few hours, and got back up. Now I've played with my daughter, and eaten. We'll be going to pick up the puppy in a little while.
I've called the doctor's office twice to find out what he said. He was suppose to call me back yesterday, but didn't. I tried to call again today, but they'd already left for the day. I'll try again on Monday.
I feel much better knowing the surgery is over, and now we can move on a little. Of course, until we know exactly what he said, then we don't know exactly how successful the surgery was. I'm still suppose to take it easy for the next few days, of course. And if you know me, you know I'll milk this for all it's worth. I'll sleep as much as I can, and let hubby and his brother take care of me! LOL!
Thank you all for your prayers, thoughts, and well wishes. It means the world to me, and I'll never be able to express that enough.
Bless you all.
Upon arriving they had me strip down to my gown, and began trying to run my IV. For whatever reason, normally, I don't have an issue with people finding my veins. Apparently, my nerves were so worked up that every time they touched my arm, my veins disappeared. So, they gave me a valium to relax me. After 5 attempts, my IV was in. Then they put the cute little hair net thing on me and wheeled me into the OR. I don't remember much, because they have me my sedative via IV almost immediately, and I was out. Upon waking, I only remember INTENSE pain and beginning to cry. They gave me some meds in my IV and I was out again for a bit. Then the doctor came in and spoke to me, thought I don't recall what he had to say, and I was free to go.
I had 24 hours of bed rest (of course, I was allowed up for food and bathroom breaks), which was really good. Today, I've been up a good bit. Got up and took the puppy to be neutered. By the time I got back however, I was miserable. Even though I'd taken my meds, I was very very tired and sickly feeling. I slept for a few hours, and got back up. Now I've played with my daughter, and eaten. We'll be going to pick up the puppy in a little while.
I've called the doctor's office twice to find out what he said. He was suppose to call me back yesterday, but didn't. I tried to call again today, but they'd already left for the day. I'll try again on Monday.
I feel much better knowing the surgery is over, and now we can move on a little. Of course, until we know exactly what he said, then we don't know exactly how successful the surgery was. I'm still suppose to take it easy for the next few days, of course. And if you know me, you know I'll milk this for all it's worth. I'll sleep as much as I can, and let hubby and his brother take care of me! LOL!
Thank you all for your prayers, thoughts, and well wishes. It means the world to me, and I'll never be able to express that enough.
Bless you all.
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