I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up

I remember that commercial.  Laughing like hell at the re-enactment of an old lady falling and not being able to get up.  Her grabbing at the lavalier around her neck saying that familiar catch phrase.

I have been feeling like that poor, old woman on the commercials these days.  Grabbing at this magical locket that I should have around my neck, waiting for the cavalry to arrive and scoop me up....but nope, it only exists on TV.

I am sitting here, staring at my work, pondering my life and I am thinking someone save me.  It's not just the work, although that has been stressing me to the nines, it's just my life.  Everything that goes on every day that keeps piling up and weighing me down.  Some days I feel like Atlas, the world on my shoulders, me straining to keep it all up in the air, and have everyone believe me when I make it look like everything is fine. Other days I am Sisyphus, rolling that boulder uphill, almost reaching the top, only having it roll back down and me having to start rolling it up all over again.

I said to my husband the other day, after he came back from his new found passion, kayaking, I need kayaking.  Well I don't really need kayaking, but I need an activity like kayaking.  An escape as it were.  A place where I go and nothing from the outside world touches me while I mentally release the stress and get myself prepared to deal with the world again.

But it's hard, when you're a mom and a woman and you are trained from an early age that everyone and everything in your life is more important than you.  That your children, your husband, hell even your mangy dogs haha, have to come before you.

So where do you find a passion when your passion has been taking care of everything and everyone else and it's the only passion you know?

I have no bucket list items breathing down my neck, and the few that are left would hardly be an escape.

And as I sit here wishing for my kayak I am miserable. I have a kid home sick with the flu. Not the way to start the holiday's but it is what it is. I am so upset about it. Not just because she is sick. Of course that upsets me, I hate that she's not feeling well.  But because I had plans. Katie, Erin and I were going on a pseudo hockey roadie. Just for a day. We were traveling 4 hours away. To see our old billet play for his new team.  We had the most amazing time when we would go to see our team play.  I think we liked the car ride better than the games lol!!

We were going to jam out in the car, listen to all of our old favorite songs. The songs we blasted every road trip.  Even play our new favorite game of Name That Tune.  I was stoked. I was actually looking forward to it. I had my potential kayaking moment. Even if it was just for a day. A day of not working, cleaning up after a house full of people, a pack of dogs, not cooking for the masses, doing laundry, shuttling kids from point A to point B.  Not doing ANYTHING *le sigh* I actually let myself think it was going to happen.

Wow was I looking forward to it. I guess it's because I haven't really done anything for me in forever. My awesome trip to Dallas was two years ago.  It's sad that I look forward to getting dental work because I know no one can bother me while I get my teeth done!!

So this was like a mini me kind of thing. I wouldn't have to do anything, just focus on me having fun. Me doing me.

Of course it couldn't happen. It would appear that is too much to ask for. Then I feel guilty. Guilty for being so upset our roadie isn't happening. Guilty for being angry my daughter is sick. Guilty for asking to carve out just a little time for me after all I am expected to do.  Guilty for wanting to get in my car and ride and ride and ride....

It begs the question at what point is it ok to feel this way?  At what point is it ok to say what the hell?? I wasn't asking for much. Just asking for my sanity!  What about me? It isn't fair (ok did you all just break into that 80's song with me? What about me? It isn't fair! I've had enough now I want my share....admit it, I know you did!)

I feel guilty.  I sound so ungrateful.  I should be thankful for all I have.  But I can't see the forest for the trees.

So what do I do?  I blog I guess.  I sit in front of my computer and type my frustration.  I said to my 19 year old, I think I am having an existential crisis.  She told me it was a mid life crisis.  That existential crises are for hip 20 somethings not 47 year old moms hahaha!!  I suppose she is right, but it sounds so banal, so downright ordinary that I should be having a midlife crisis after all I have done with my life thus far.  But what if I am?

I don't know.  The thought scares me, it conjures up all sorts of unsavory images, none of which I want to be associated with.  I need to find my passion, something that is my release.

I guess I need to find my kayak.  

Happy Thanksgiving

As I stood in the kitchen cooking with Heather this morning, I was doing it with a heavy heart.  I am thinking of people like my dad, whose birthday is today, or Jess, who I celebrated previous Thanksgivings with.  People who loved this time of year, Jess' house is decorated already for Christmas.  My dad loved being surrounded by tons of people, celebrating all that he had.  I guess he knew he was a lucky man.

I chastised myself as I peeled my potatoes for feeling sad.  Then my phone chimed I had a text, which I just read a study that said hearing you have a text affects the same pleasure centers in your brain that drugs do, go figure, now I know why I like them so much.  It was from my neighbor across the street.  I had offered my kitchen and to cook whatever she needed this Thanksgiving because she is sick as sick can be and I couldn't imagine dragging myself to make a feast feeling like a truck hit me. Thankfully her husband and boys have it all under control, but like I said, my kitchen is your kitchen.  Don't be bashful, if you need something let me know.  I am thankful that these fine people live across the street from me, that her youngest son and my youngest daughter have been buddies for the whole time we have been here, which if I am remembering right is 10 years.

As I put my phone down I thought I am going to affect some people's pleasure centers in their brains and text them.  Former players and their families that I miss so dearly, that I made Thanksgiving for these last how many years?  Family members that I wish I could be celebrating with.

I got thinking about people in my Midlo Crossfit family, people that make me realize on a daily basis that family isn't necessarily only comprised of the people you were born to.  But the people you surround yourself and nourish your soul with.

Then I hear Anthony.  His squeals are filling the air.  Wrapping themselves around my heavy heart reminding me there is so much to be thankful for.  Look at him, this little miracle that isn't so little anymore.  The answer to many prayers to God for so many things.

And as I type Harley the Boxer as he is affectionately known here, came and nudged me with that huge Boxer head of his.  Putting his head on my lap, looking at me with those soulful Boxer eyes that have seen so much sadness, that walked miles with his mom in the hopes of raising her spirits.  As he layed that big head in my lap I scratched him and found the peace that only a dog can bring my heart.

I hear my girls interacting in the family room.  Excitedly getting Anthony his first meal of sweet potatoes ready so he can have Thanksgiving with us, and another moment my heart is light.  I have these beautiful young women in my life, and I know how lucky I am to have each and every one of them.

For some crazy reason I am reminded of Jack's speech in Titanic:

"I got air in my lungs, a few blank sheets of paper. I mean, I love waking up in the morning not knowing what's gonna happen or, who I'm gonna meet, where I'm gonna wind up. Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge and now here I am on the grandest ship in the world having champagne with you fine people. I figure life's a gift and I don't intend on wasting it. You don't know what hand you're gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you... to make each day count. 

To you my friends and family, the people that make up the very fabric of my life have a beautiful and blessed Thanksgiving. 

To understanding that life is indeed a gift and to making each day count.....

All Angels Fly Up

I whispered that to my father minutes after he died and we made it to his hospital room.  Said those words hoping his spirit was there, seeing me, hearing me whisper that as if he needed direction to where he was going, as I kissed his forehead for what I knew was the last time.  I heard tale of 21 grams and hoped fervently that this hypothesis was the truth. I wanted him to find the peace he deserved after the epic fight he had put up for the last 20 years of his life.

I said those words again last night.  I prayed for a friend who passed away yesterday morning.  A friend who had struggled with the demons of her past for so long, whose beautiful soul was so grievously injured.  Another person who put up an epic fight, but ultimately lost the battle.  Anyway, not sure how it all happened, but the heavens gained another angel last night.  And once again a little piece of my heart floated up, to rest easy until we all meet again.

My mom, in her infinite wisdom, always said the funniest people are the saddest.  It was no exception for the friend I lost yesterday.  Her sense of humor, her in your face funniness, that was what attracted me to her.  It was only after we struck up our friendship that I truly got to see that other side of her. The saddest, dark side that was yin to her funny yang.

I lost a friend who let me know I wasn't a horrible mom, when horrible things were happening with my child.  That let me know addiction is a horrible disease as much as cancer is, and showed me what a truly beautiful and, at the same time, tortured soul looked like.

I faced things with her, stared down those demons that I didn't want her to face by herself.  Tried to let her know how much she is loved.  How many people needed her.  But I know now, that no matter how hard I tried, how hard all of us that were allowed into that dark space she lived in behind her bright smile tried, that it didn't matter. No matter how much I wanted to make her pain stop, how much any of us did, there just weren't enough rocks....

All she wanted was to be free of all of the horribleness that haunted her.  To have enough rocks.  I would have sent truckloads of them, quarried them with my bare hands, if I knew they would help.

Nothing could really set her free from all that held her captive.  From the ugliness that hurt her.

She is now.

She is free.

She is at peace.

She isn't hurting anymore.

I know we are all reeling.  Grasping at the air for explanations that are never coming, for understanding that we will never have, we never walked a mile in her moccasins, and from what I know we should all be thankful for that.

But for you to be at peace finally Jess?  For you to escape from all that I know you lived through?  I will hurt every day just a little.  I will suffer and carry this because you deserve the peace you have finally found.

So once again, those words escaped my lips.  For you my beautiful friend.  All angels fly up....I love and miss you.

Whales and Pigs and Cows oh my....

Look at you, you look disgusting!  Fat Whale! Look at how fat you look, how could you let yourself go, what a pig...I would never say things to a person I didn't like, than why am I saying it to myself?? But that is exactly what I said looking at myself the other morning in the mirror.  Ugh, I thought in utter disgust, and I walked away.

A recent conversation came to mind.  I was walking to the elevator on our vacation last week, towards my family who were waiting and my husband KNEW I wasn't happy.  "What's wrong?" he asked innocently enough... I hissed back, "I look like a frickin' cow. I am huge" and then I realized who else was in my presence.  My 18 and 15 year old daughters, that's who.

My 15 year old looked at me in sheer disbelief.  She said nothing until she looked at her reflection and proceeded to dress herself down.  I looked at this beautiful young woman in front of me.  All 5'9" plus inches of this statuesque, nothing short of goddess in my eyes and I chastised her.  I told her to stop with the negative self talk, how I would have given my left arm to be her in high school, replete with her poise, good sense of humor, fantastic disposition, beautiful smile, warm heart, and her outward beauty as well...And then she countered with, "it's how you talk to yourself Mom...."

***GASP***

Well wasn't that a kick in the teeth??  She was right of course.  I talk to myself like this all of the time. If I spoke to a child like this, I would destroy them for life, so why was it ok to talk to myself like this? Why would I not allow my lovely daughter to speak negatively about herself but it was ok to slam myself like that?  Am I not lovely too? Did I really just do that?

Why Yes I did.  

But it is how I have spoken to myself more often than not for most of my life.  It's crazy when I think to myself, has this body not gotten me here, to this day, alive and well, 47 years later, no matter what the weight? Did it not get me through triathlons, marathons, mountainous Fondos, an Ironman triathlon and crazy Crossfit hero WODs???  

I need to remember a most important point------->this "horrible" body of mine helped to conceive, grow, and bring 4 beautiful, healthy babies into this world.  That is nothing short of a miracle in itself one time, but I did it four times!  How could I possibly belittle this perfect baby incubating and producing machine lol? But I do!

So I challenged myself that very day, the day my daughter informed me in front of the elevator that they speak to themselves the way they've heard me refer to myself before, to speak only kind words when I looked in the mirror.  I challenged them too.  I said there will be no more negative talk.  That even on days I am feeling the need to spew vulgarities at myself that I must walk away and not speak them even in my head.  That I must focus on the good only.  I told my girls that I want them to do the same.  I want their self confidence to soar, not wither away, as they continue to mature.

I am on day five of only positives.  I'd like to say it's been easy, but it hasn't.  I will say it has gotten a wee bit easier to find a place to compliment myself, even if it seems genuinely trite, because it is at least positive and better than calling myself a cow.  Telling myself my hair looks good, or that my yoga pants flatter my curves, or my nails look pretty long is far better than hurling insults at myself.  And yes they are all rather vapid comments in the grand scheme of things, however they are a humble start for me. Hopefully they will give rise to even deeper, more important revelations about myself.

Funny how we go back to what we know, how I hated being called those awful names by others in grade school and high school, the fat pigs, Celia Cellulites, fat whales still make me cringe and my heart hurt when I hear them being said by my classmates.  But it's what I knew regarding my self image growing up so it's what I took with me as an adult.  What I fell back on knowing full well it was destructive.  The fact that I might pass this trait along to my daughters is enough to make me stop this behavior dead in it's tracks.

I cannot have them sitting belittling themselves at near 50 and hating things they see when they look in the mirror.  

So when I told my girls what I was doing, I challenged them as well.  To love themselves and love things they see when they look at their reflection.  Funny as soon as I brought my challenge up, my 18 year old sent me this article http://www.healthyplace.com/blogs/yourmentalhealth/2013/03/05/a-mothers-effect-on-her-daughters-self-esteem/  How did she get so smart lol?

Definitely sobering, enlightening and worth the read, particularly if you have daughters.  

There is a quote at the end by Oprah Winfrey that will be my mantra even if it kills me!  How sad is it that positive, affirming talk would be this hard for me.  I suspect I am not the only woman out there who is dealing with this, as a matter of fact I know I am not.

"You can't fix the girls and the the self-esteem until you fix the mothers.  As Naomi Wolf said so beautifully, "A mother who radiates self-love and acceptance actually vaccinates her daughter against low self-esteem"  ~ Oprah Winfrey

50 is the new 30

It is you know.  It's my husband's birthday, he turns the big 5-0 today.  He looks better today then when I met him all those years ago.  I can remember the first birthday I celebrated with him, I believe he turned 25 that year.  I was still in college up in Oswego, he was in Freeport, Illinois.  I went to visit him his birthday weekend.  It was almost two months after I met him.  My mom didn't want me to go.  He could be an ax murderer was her rationale.  I didn't know him well enough.  My dad very rarely trumped my mom on anything, but I can still remember him saying, "Ginger, we are letting her go." As a mom now I guess I can understand her anxiety.  I marvel at my dad and him knowing, as he always said, Brad was special.

You know I dreamed of my husband.  I guess I knew I would meet him before I met him.  Before I went on this cruise with my mom and dad back in *gulp* 1989, I had a dream one night.  That I met this dashing guy in a suit on the cruise.  After we romanced the whole cruise ala Love Boat, my favorite show to watch besides Fantasy Island both were on on Saturday night when I was growing up, he showed up at my door in a limo and got out.  Oh in my dream he was like a mafia Don or a Kennedy of some sort.  Some one who exuded raw power, but anyway he came calling for me with a ring and the rest of my dream was history....

I have to say it wasn't EXACTLY like that, but it was sort of.  Okay, we're heading for a dream sequence, please put your tray tables in their upright and locked position....

It was a snowball dance we met at on the cruise.  When the DJ said snowball, you had to find a new partner to dance with.  I was with my new found friend DeeDee when the DJ in the disco said snowball.  I just wanted a beer and to dance.  I heard the bartender telling the guy next to me to "ask the pretty lady next to you to dance" I was hoping to God he meant someone else, still smarting from a very bad break up, the last thing I wanted was a boy in my life.  Alas, it was me, all Brad wanted was a damn Corona, he had a girlfriend, boy was desperate for that beer, because the next thing I knew there was a tap on my shoulder.  

I was all prepared to go Large Marge on him

But then I turned around and saw him.  And let's just say Large Marge didn't happen.

When I looked at him I knew I was done for.  I fell for him, fell hard.  It was like that episode of the Brady Bunch when Bobby kisses the chick with the mumps and he sees all fireworks, and Brad hadn't even kissed me yet!

Long story short we hung out every day, made some really fun friends, went on all sorts of adventures in ports, *cough Senor Frog's* and the next thing you know the 7 days came to an end.  I said goodbye to him, he gave me his work address and phone number.  That's when I knew he had a girlfriend at home.  I mean seriously, I might have been born at night, but not last night right hahaha?

I figured my feelings when I first saw him were based on all of those dreamy Saturday night Love Boat episodes.  He went back to Illinois, I went back to New York.  Done deal.

WRONG!

My dream limo turned out to be a dozen long stemmed red roses.  They got delivered to me after a week of no contact from him.  Apparently he hadn't stopped thinking about me, hadn't stopped talking to his friends about me, and they finally told him to do something about it!  Hence the roses...We spoke the night I got them, he called me.  We've spoken every night since that night *sigh*

When I went out to Illinois for that first birthday celebration with him, we had champagne, we went to dinner, we went dancing.  We told each other we loved each other that weekend.  I told him first actually, he told me the next day, he had this whole special night planned.  When he said it, it was over a champagne toast. Funny, that's how he proposed to me in Niagara Falls, but that is a blog for another day.

I went home, he came to see me in March for my Spring Break, took me to Niagara Falls and he asked me to marry him.  I got every little girls' wish, my prince came in and swooped me up.  I had a fairy tale come to life.

Ok, so maybe it took a little longer than a week like my dream.  It took three months.  Maybe he wasn't mafioso, or some public figure that exuded raw power.  But he was my childhood dream, he was my Love Boat come to life.  And life since my Love Boat has been an awful lot like my Fantasy Island.....

Happy Birthday Brad!!  I LOVE YOU!