Last time I published a post, I wrote about recently being diagnosed with fibromyalgia. Before that, I tried to find out what was wrong through the usual method of self-diagnosis: search engines. To tell you the truth, I’m not any happier to be able to put a name to it, especially since there isn’t much known anyway. Now I’m digging through the entire library of the Internet (which is, of course, absolutely huge) to find information. Continue reading
A few months ago, my dad bought eleven chickens. He has since summed up the chicken caring experience like this, “Now I know when someone calls you a chicken, it’s really an insult.” Our little egg layers aren’t even laying eggs yet since they aren’t old enough to breed.
A few oddities:
One of our hens is a Silkie, given to my daughter by our neighbor who decided she needed a pet. J, who has unsuccessfully tried to name a series (and wide variety) of creatures Nala, now has a Nala of her very own. Apparently, Nala will be laying little eggs small enough that it’d take four or five to make a regular sized egg. I’ve never seen a chicken that looked like it had fur. Continue reading
I went and got my feelings hurt today because of a careless remark about a tattoo of mine. It’s the first time I’ve ever ended a conversation with my best friend feeling… well, less than beautiful. I wanted to cry. I wanted to smack them. Their words hurt, and it was about something I can’t change.
I’ve had this tattoo for over half my life – so long, in fact, that I barely notice it now. It’s just a part of me. And I think that’s what hurt. It felt, on some deep down level, that I had been rejected. This is someone who genuinely cares about me and is one of the most loving people I know. I knew better, and yet it still hurt.
As I’m dwelling on this, trying to swallow the hurt I know wasn’t intentionally inflicted, I got to thinking. This, as some of you know, is quite dangerous for me to do. And yet, sometimes, a little clarity and understanding comes out of it… Continue reading
Have you ever felt pulled in more than one direction at the same time? Of course you have. You’re eating breakfast, really enjoying that egg and toast, and your four-year-old says, “Mommy, I broke it.” That’s all they have to say before your previously tasty breakfast might as well be day-old grass.
Congratulations. You’ve moved from “woman refueling her system to face a busy day” to “Most High Inquisitor, ferreting out ne’er do wells”.
As a parent, you get to play many parts: peacemaker, disciplinary, live jungle gym…After you’ve been a parent for awhile, switching back and forth across these many faces becomes as easy and natural as breathing. Continue reading
I’m convinced pretty much anything can be a metaphor for life’s experiences. I’m also convinced pretty much anything can be positive or negative, depending on one’s outlook at the time. In fact, as I once wrote, I’m sure our reality changes depending on… well… us.
Take, for instance, a garden. If your life were a garden, what would you be growing? Weeds? Flowers? Vegetables? A haven for critters? Continue reading
Hope… it’s such a crystalline word, isn’t it? It seems so fragile and so easily destroyed. Looking back over my life, I can see times when hope seemed so far away as to be nonexistent, and times when I burned brightly with it. I’ve been wondering what makes the difference between hope and hopelessness, and I think I finally have the answer. Continue reading
Wow… this week started with a bang in the “no self control” department. Anger and I have been friends for a long time, but it’s been awhile since it’s visited so frequently. Of course, the fact that we’ve been hanging out again is probably due to anger’s co-conspirator, frustration, as well as a healthy visit by insomnia (which, by the way, still refuses to leave).
Let me tell you, frustration and lack of sleep are not conducive to a peaceful attitude. I woke up Monday morning growling, and didn’t stop growling for several hours. A seriously intense conversation with myself was as futile as picking dandelions one by one to get them out of your yard. They just grow back and multiply. Continue reading
It’s 8:48pm, Wednesday night, and once again, I’ve just now realized what this particular blog post is going to be about. Each post comes from deep down inside; they’re parts of me, dragged out to expose in their raw forms and shared as a questionable present with you, the reader. I’m not at all comfortable with some of them, but they’re all a part of who I am. They write themselves, but the stingy things often don’t want to come out until almost press time. Go figure; even my thoughts are stubborn. Continue reading
It’s only been over the past few years that I started seeing my parents as people – mostly out of self-defense, I think. I’m a 35-year-old daughter, living at home with my parents and trying to raise three kids. I’ve had to learn to bite my tongue where my parents and I disagree. In the process, I’ve also had to learn that… wow… my parents are people, too.
They have their own set of insecurities and fears, their own strengths and weaknesses. It’s amazing, really, that I never noticed these things before.
I talk about my dad a lot. I mean, anyone who walks into our house automatically knows who rules the roost. He is the ultimate king of the castle, without a doubt. I’ve looked up to my dad for years. He’s been my teacher through much of life’s difficulties; I’ve learned a lot from him, both good and bad. I think it’s natural, then, that when I started seeing my parents as people, my dad was the first one I learned more about.
Lately, however, I’ve been much more interested in my mother. We never talked much when I was younger, so learning about my mom has been a surprising experience. Looking into the past and “meeting” the person she is now, I’m realizing that much of what I learned about being a mom and a wife has come from her. I’m a lot more like my mother than I’ve ever admitted… and I’m okay with that. Continue reading
You know that moment when you realize no matter how truthful you’ve tried to be (or thought you were being), you’ve been feeding your loved ones a big, old pie of lies? It’s that “how’d that slip in there?” moment; that “I can’t believe I said that” moment; the “why’d I say that it’s not true” moment. Yeah, I’m in all those moments right now.
Because I’ve realized I’m so full of it sometimes that you can smell the lies and hypocrisy from the next state over.
Now, I’ve tried to keep my blog posts on a narrow ledge between secular and religious, because I know some of those who read here don’t believe what I believe, but this post has a decidedly religious bent. For you who aren’t, I’ve found something else for you to read so you don’t feel like I tricked you – I already feel bad enough. Continue reading