manipulated...

I'm tired Boss... Mostly I'm tired of people being ugly to one another. 

One of my B's sent me that in a private message the other day.  I don't know if she knew exactly how exhausted I was, I don't know if she could feel the pain in my heart and the exhaustion in my very soul.  But I am thankful that she sent it.  It perfectly summed up my feelings. 

I strive so hard to treat other's as I want to be treated.  I will celebrate you, I will treat you with respect, I will do anything I can to make your path an easier one to walk.  I will not judge you.  I will absorb the hurt you choose to give out, and still be there to pick you up when you fall.  Because I believe firmly that in this life that what we put out there is what comes back. 

I will take your call in the middle of the night, even though there are many times that I need that person in my life to find that no one is there. I have Hubs. I know if I reached out to the B's, they would be there for me. But oddly the people that I support and lift up the most are the ones that do the most damage to me personally. 

It's been a rough week.  I'm exhausted. Mentally, physically and mostly emotionally.  I am drained.  I have nothing left to give up to anyone.

If I could I would lock my doors, turn off my phone and put up a wall the size of a mountain.  

I can't. 

Somewhere in all the half truths and misdirecting words there is a balance.  Somewhere out there are people that have the emotional intelligence to be honest and not wrap it in deceit because they know that hurtfulness is not the way to say things.  That you can share your heart, feelings, ideas and concerns from a place of love and it will be okay.  

That simply being kind and honest is a welcome thing. 

How did we become a world where we've forgotten that it's okay to be different, that it's okay to not see eye to eye on anything or everything and still be kind?

I'm tired. 

I wrote that a week ago today.  While I was feeling hurt, devastated, drained and at my lowest.  It's been a week.  There have been important conversations and life is completely different.

Last week, during a highly emotional time, when my little family should have been celebrating the greatest miracle our little Panda's arrival.  We were being played by someone that never had that right.  Instead of having wonderful homecoming memories, we are the proud owners of hurt and pain.

A million times over the course of this week as I have sorted through my feelings about the situation that occurred and been angry at the callous selfish behavior that caused it, I have thought of a million different ways to respond.

We can never regain what was stolen from us.  The hurt was intention... to teach everyone a lesson.  Tell a truth that we "needed to hear".  Sadly, truth tellers with evil hearts should probably insure they have all their facts straight before they meddle.

Hubs and I will never again be able to recapture being part of Panda's homecoming.  Nothing can erase the brutal words that were spewed forth... in the name of honesty (really?).  New parents were left sitting for hours, prepared for a celebration that only one person knew they had "planned" but was never going to happen.  Anxiety was high, tears flowed, hatred festered.

All for what?  Truthfully, I have spent a week trying to figure it out.  I have tried during those quiet intimate hours of alone time, to sort out what kind of person could do that.  And then ride off into the sunset, mission accomplished, pain, chaos and disarray left in the dust.
I don't have an answer.  What I have is faith that we raised wonderful children and we are focused on loving each other and being there for each other.  We don't lie to one another, we don't hide behind falsehoods. We talk things out.

We hug and we move forward.

Love is far more powerful than lies, half-truths and I hate to say it, but... manipulative bullshit.

Last night rocking my sweet new Panda, while my mini-me was staying with friends and mom was having a moment to catch her breath.  I forgave.

Now, forgiving and forgetting are two separate things.  I forgave, because that was for me.  I will not allow the hatefulness to stain the love I have for my children and their children, their partners and friends.

The one that did this... Forgiveness does not change the fact that it was a final straw.

I can't change that person.  Nor will I try.  Karma will take care of that.  For decades I have allowed that person to be hateful and mean to myself and others.  Always listening to the "they need to hear the truth" line and choosing to be silent.  To walk away injured or aware of another person injured to avoid the wraith that everyone knows comes when you cross that person.

I spent years away from my family after being told "none of us even want you here, you only cause trouble". I heard the bitter, hateful words spewed at other loved ones.  All in the name of truth and "tough love".  I didn't take a stand.

I won't say I'm not feeling bitter, because I am, but in forgiveness comes peace.  Mini-me and Panda are going to be our partners in crime for the balance of our days.  My girl and I are stronger than ever due to the hurt inflicted. Hubs and I are blessed with the family that we have and strong enough to stand up to any storm.

Sadly, the result is that while I am a slow learner, I am not stupid.  I do learn.  An unending ability to understand and reason out another's actions, well... evidently it is not unending.

It ended.  Last Sunday was the final straw.  I have warned the appropriate people that I will not be involved with that person again.  That they are not welcome in my home nor will I attend anything they are at.  I started to waiver, until I found out that when confronted with their actions their response was an arrogant "they needed to hear the truth".

Nope, sorry.  "Truth" is always a gray area depending on the conversation, the people involved and the first hand knowledge of the situation.  And then it is still gray.  No one has the right to destroy based on their version of the "truth".

I'm starting to feel this burst in my own personal bubble is very reflective of what is happening far too often in our world as a whole.

How many times do each of us react to situations based on some version of "the truth".  When in reality the only people that truly know are the ones intimately involved and yet, it is still tainted by their perception of the circumstances?

How many times are people with their own agenda's destroying others simply because it isn't working out the way they want it to?

Do we often step away from the situation long enough to take a deep look at what is being presented to us? Or do we react out of anger, hurt of fear?

Does the misrepresentation of facts, with holding of information, and deceitful behavior taint reality for us?

I feel like it does.  I know in my personal bubble it cause terrible chaos, hurt, tears, and almost life long damage.  We can't unwind the clock, there isn't going to be a do over.  How often is that happening on a local, national and international scale.

How often are malicious people taking our fears and twisting them around to cause hatred, pain and more fears that suit their purpose? Is it something as small as someone that you should be able to trust, "sharing" with you that the people you love and would lay your life down for don't really like you, that they wish you would stay out of their lives? Or is it something as grand as on a local, national and global level that people are painting that kind of hurt between any factions they can, because hurt and pain feed on hurt and pain.

I don't have answers.

What I have is the ability to distance myself.  For how long, I don't know. Until it isn't a sore, red, gaping wound that is too large to bandage.  Until I can look in Hubs eyes and not see the devastation and hurt that I still see lingering at the edges.  Until I can't hear the ragged tone of his voice, echoing in my heart, that screamed "I guess I am just a 'step-father' and not a good one at that", until I know longer hear my girls asking "what did we do so wrong that you weren't there"... I don't know that forgiveness can make that day ever come.

What I have learned from it all is to question always. Not just in my personal life, but in my outside life as well.

Because sometimes that person reaching out that helping hand, they don't want to help.  They saw an opportunity to change you and they are going to do their level best to do just that.  Are you tired, down, lonely, sad, stressed, feeling unsure? That person is waiting for that moment in time.  I won't be giving it to them again.

And if you think I will always stay quietly in the corner and not say anything... think again. Sometimes people mistake silence for weakness.  I promise I am not weak.

I'm tired Boss... Mostly I'm tired of people being ugly to one another. 

waiting...

It's 2:24 am.  I've barely slept.  In fact I think I might have napped.  My heart feels like lead.  The worry is wearing me down.  I'm a mix of love, joy, anxiety, fear and a million other things that now is not the time to delve into.

So much has happened in the past week.  Culminations.  The past 20 hours, definite culminations.  I'm stuck in a do I stay, do I go spot.

The mom in me... she's screaming.  Tearing out my hair and causing me to feel like I want to throw up.  If you aren't a parent, you cannot imagine this feeling. As a parent I cannot imagine it. It's been 30 minutes since I called to check on my child. 30 minutes since I was told I would get a call back.  I wasn't asking for anything except for reassurance.

If I go will I be turned away?  Will I be stuck standing in a cold hallway still waiting for answers?

Life is funny like that.  It's brutal like that.

I wish I could be cold.  I wish sometimes that I had the ability to turn my head and harden my heart. I don't have that ability.  So instead...

I'm envious of the gentle snores I am hearing from Hubs and the boys.

Why can't I be a bit more pragmatic?

I should have known when I was told "...text you..."

There is a time, a place, and a reason for everything. I try so hard to understand and respect that.

I suck at it.

I hate that I can sometimes see things far too clearly.  This is one of those times.  Where the clarity is wrapped around a huge bubble of haze. Words, thoughts and actions are dancing around in my head and in my heart.

It feels like a giant ball of sharp glass.  It's painful and beautiful all at once.

I'm prayerful.

my valentine...

Coffee is just about ready on this early Valentine's morning.

Hubs is still snoring softly upstairs.  Usually he is the one that is up at all hours, I'm the one sleeping soundly.

Here it is Valentine's Day and I am feeling decidedly like a failure in the romance department. I always thought I was a romantic until I married Hubs.  And honestly, now I know that I am not.

I am horrible at writing down little notes.  I already have two of my gifts.  Because he is definitely a gifter.  I am not.  I am far too practical.  I love to buy gifts, but I do it whenever, not waiting for special days.  The reason I have two of my gifts, he spoils me.

He got tired of watching me haul a huge unwieldy briefcase around and when I mentioned that I wouldn't mind getting one like one of my co-workers has... poof it arrived.

In 2003 he started spoiling me for Valentine's day.  That was the day that I found out Stefanelli's delivers. Now I know my Erie family will let me know that Romolo's is the real stuff and I shouldn't be a Stefanelli's fan.  I've had both.  And maybe Romolo's is marginally better.  But... it isn't always strictly about taste. Sometimes the tie to the memory is stronger.  Two of the most important people in my life have always shown me they loved me and were thinking about me with Stefanelli's chocolate. My Grammie and my sweet Hubs.  For 14 Valentine's day's I have been given Stefanelli's sponge candy.  Because of a conversation.  A simple question answered during a period of getting to know each other and the dedication to not only locate it, but insure that it arrived in New Mexico.  A beacon of light and love.

I got to open that last night.  Evidently it hanging out wrapped up pretty was simply too much to stand, and we both wanted a snack.

The card that he mailed me was so beautiful and full of love.  He's a gentleman that way. It brought tears to my eyes.

And as I hear him coming up the stairs I am concerned.  He's been sneaking boxes down the stairs for weeks, plotting and planning.

Maybe I shouldn't be fearful, but... I am. He really is far too observant and keeps tabs on everything.

While I am running at the speed of light, trying to keep my head above water as I learn a new job, work to close and open a building and also conduct all three major fundraisers before May, he is watching me. Planning.

I am barely remembering to brush my teeth each day.  He is studying every thing I say or do.

About a week ago he mentioned that I was going to be mad on Valentine's day and that I needed to get over it, now.  I filed it away in the category of my brain that said he spent too much money on me again.  That I would be cranky and to simply get over it. He does that.

He frustrates me to no end with that.  I don't need.  I never get to the point of needing anything.  He looks for excuses to give.

So sitting here by my beautiful fire that he built to warm me this morning, listening to the television downstairs as he gets his morning Frazier fix, I could be upset.  But as usual he did listen, as usual he did notice.  And as usual he got me just what I needed but was too cheap to get myself.

My Chromebook has been giving me issues.  Turning itself off, freezing, being slow to open. In fact moving in reverse some days.  My dear Acer and I have been through much since I got it back in 2014, I've dragged it to Brazil and all around the US.  I have written over 500 blog posts on it.  And I have been mourning her failures.

I have also refused to buy another one.

Hubs took that decision out of my hands.  He bought me a shiny new Chromebook.  As it is updating I am writing a final blog on the old one.  It's bittersweet.

Yep, I feel like a failure in the romance department. I am not the gal that goes card shopping.  I am not the one that remembers the minutia.

I am the one that will come home from work exhausted and make a warm and nourishing dinner.  I always make sure his clothes are ironed and he is cared for daily.  I will always pack his lunch (although I rarely remember to pack an I love you note).

It must be hard for someone that is so romantic and always doing the sweetest things, and okay the deck of cards with our favorite picture of us on them is simply too sweet, to be married to someone so pragmatic.

The sweetheart of a man that picked out a package of my favorite pens in a rainbow of colors, because I am that freak that loves fun office supplies, has a wife that didn't even think to celebrate this special day.

I love him to the moon and back.  I cannot for even a second imagine my life without him.  Do you think he realizes that.  Does it take candy, flowers, a Chromebook?  Or does he feel that love in his freshly washed and folded clothing.  When he puts on his still warm pressed clothes, because I have been too busy to get them done in advance.

Do you think he knows in the little things I try to do every day?  Haircuts, trimming sideburns, straightening collars, a kiss, a hug?

I sure hope so, because the reality is, I am not a person that is ever going to remember in advance to buy the card or gift.  But I am the person that is going to be rock steady.  You can always count on me daily.

Although, I feel that I definitely should work on being more of a special day kind of girl... because it does make you feel special, loved and cherished.

I love you my sweet Hubs.  Through all my faults... please remember that you are now and always will be my Valentine.

value....

This morning a horde of little 5th and 6th grade locusts came pouring up my basement stairs.  They were hungry.  They were remembering that I'd said last night as we tucked all five of them in bed that I would let them help me make breakfast.

They weren't overly concerned that I had not had my walk, that I had not had coffee and frankly that the Hubs was making me a yummy bloody mary to enjoy while writing this morning.

The energy was crackling.  You could feel it vibrating off each of them, each of them needing just a bit more of something.  Food, attention, validation, a morning hug, praise, a few just needing to matter.  It has truly been decades since I've had a house full of pre-teen girls.  Hubs and I were blessed for the gift.  For the silly, chaotic joy they brought us.

Lately I've spent a lot of time focused on the word "value".  On it's depths and meanings.

Many of you know I work for the Y.  Another of my many blessings in life.  As I have assumed a new role in the past few months I have been exposed to parts of my career that were vague and viewed through a smoky lens before. In the past few weeks I have been working with our Philanthropy group to identify grants for the communities we serve.

I love working for the Y, I love the ability to serve.  It fills my soul.  During one of our picture taking trips I felt my heart ripped out.  I felt anger and disappointment.  It was probably the first time the word value started ripping through my heart, my mind and my soul.

The playground these children were required to use during their school day was sad.  Truthfully that is the summation of what I saw.  Far beyond the fence was the green grass and open areas to run, roll and simply be.  It wasn't were the children were allowed to go.  Their domain was a large, dirty, damaged and soulless asphalt lot.  Surrounded with a fence (for their protection?) broken benches unusable and unsafe for sitting on, basketball hoops damaged and laying haphazardly on the ground.  The painted keys and hopscotch long since faded, only faint shadows showed where they had once been bright and vibrant.

Value...

How did those bright, energetic children, the lights of the future not feel defeated? Not feel less than?  How did they feel valued?

The school is in a very poor neighborhood.  Although I am finding that isn't the only place that kind of neglect exists.

I am pretty much starting to avoid social media and news.  I am struggling with all the rioting, tantrums, threats, etc.  I am struggling to understand how a country I love can be so close minded.  I don't care who votes for whom.  The color of your skin does not begin to matter to me.  My only concern with your religion is that I have a basic knowledge so that I do not accidentally disrespect what you hold dear and that you afford me the same courtesy.  Who you marry or spend your life with, again, not my concern, better question is are you happy? Do I believe in abortion, no, do I believe in your right to choose absolutely, it is not my place to make decisions for you.  Do you live in a mansion or on the street, by choice or not? I don't feel that makes you a good person either way.

But value... it's missing...

How do you make another feel valued?  How do you feel valued?

Earlier this week, I had to go see my orthopedist, the darn knee decided to misbehave again.  She made me feel like a million dollars!  The praise she gave me for my weight loss and the hard work that I had put into following her directions made my heart soar.  I felt important to her, and I am sure she felt valued.  She hadn't just given me directions to save my knee that I had ignored.  Instead I had taken her advice.  Advice that she had earned the right to give.  And I had saved my knee. It will probably require cortisone shots yearly to maintain, but that is so different than a replacement.  I valued her knowledge and advice, she valued me as a person.

There has been someone working hard to make our girl and grands feel less than.  It's been ripping at our hearts.  Hubs and I have felt powerless.  Still do.  But as my oldest sleeps peacefully upstairs in guest room. Hopefully catching up on the rest that she needs so badly right now.  The grand and her posse are down in the man cave.  The laughter, joy and singing drifting up the stairs makes my heart feel full.  They are being silly.  They are being 10 and 11.  The five of them are giggling, snacking, jamming out.  I will help Hubs clean it up when they go home.

I pray those small gifts of time, space and laughter make them all feel valued.  I pray that the sleep my girl has needed is making her feel valued.

The clean kitchen this morning, the pot of tea roses and the beautiful card made my heart soar. She didn't have to, she did it because of who she is.

I can't help but wonder, if we all stopped demanding our own way.  Insisting that because people think different, feel different, look different... etc... that they are not worthy.  That they are not valued. And started valuing ourselves and others what kind of a difference it would make in this crazy mixed up world that we occupy.

When the child runs to the playground will it be safe?  Will there be role models?  Will the adults in their precious lives value them.  Will they remember that not so long ago they were that noisy, clumsy, silly young person navigating life?  And instead of being the barrier become the bright shining star for them?

When will too many adults stop making harsh, cruel demands that are designed to steal love and joy from the innocence of childhood.

As I was climbing the stairs to cook breakfast this morning one of those silly little girls, that hadn't slept all night, thanked me for opening my home.  For allowing them to be kids.  She told me how great of a mom my daughter is (I already know this!) and how much she'd loved having time with my grand daughter. That her mom and grandma would have never allowed it.

My question... why? I remember having so many kids in my home growing up.  Our doors were always open to anyone that needed a place to be. I can't thank my parents enough for that gift. We learned that people just needed to be loved, that all the crap we use now to determine who is worthy of our time, energy and dollars just didn't matter.  I was blessed from a very early age.

I only gave birth to two children.  As they grew there were always so many children in our home, on our trips, surrounding us.  I remember the forts, the messes, the laughter.  Listening now to the beautiful music and young voices singing along, I realize that I might miss it occasionally in the silence that usually fills our home.

I remember dolls, legos, GI Joe, Pokemon, army gear for the raids outside, walkie-talkies, more pens, paper and secret notes than one can imagine.  I remember joy.  I remember "spats" where the parents all knew that before we were even aware of the "fight" they had resolved it and moved on.

We have to get back to that time.  We have to start valuing people more than things again.  I have unfollowed so much on social media, because I am tired.  I don't want to hear anymore pouting.  I want the people that I surround my world with to understand value.

A card, a call, a cup of coffee.

An honest conversation.

A messy child making breakfast, spilling without judgement, learning those messes are a part of growing up.

Or simply someone to sit by a fire and relax with.

I am tired of arrogance and anger.  I am tired of hateful people trying to control others.  I am watching it on a personal level all the way to a national, if not global level. Boycott this, don't watch that, don't buy that coffee, don't understand where that person is coming from.  The tantrums, the myopic views, the lack of love or compassion.  It's tiring.

Want to make a difference? Invite those children to all hang out together.  Let them be children.  Watch those beautiful friendships grow, nurture them.  Be kind.  Listen to them sing at the top of their lungs, smile at the cracking high notes and rejoice in the beautiful harmony.  Let them express themselves with gentle loving guidance not mean, aggressive, judgmental words. Let them discover who they are without forcing your own hatred and prejudice on them.

My niece shared about watching a truck dropping of kids at school and delivering a cup of coffee to each officer on the way.  Stop hating. Start valuing everyone.

Pick up that trash on the side of the road, who cares if you didn't drop it.

Maybe be more like Gandhi - be the good you want to see in the world. Use softer words, build up those around you.  Hear their small voices, until they are strong enough to be heard by all.  Remembering that it isn't always the child that is whispering.  It might be the adult with too much love and kindness in their hearts that is being stomped on by the arrogant, mean and hateful bully.  Be their strength until they are strong enough.

And it's okay to love that bully and pray for them.  But be strong enough to tell them no.  Because that "no" is the strongest form of love you can give.  It's hard.  It hurts.  And yet it gives that bully the ability to become human.

More than once I had to use "tough" love with my kids.  I don't know if they have figured out that it hurt me far deeper than it hurt them.  I am thankful I was strong enough to do it.  Because both of them are kind, loving, amazing humans!  I am proud of the people they have become.

Listening to the sounds coming from my basement, I am going to say my beautiful grand daughter is well on her way to becoming the same exceptional human her mom is.

Take a minute to truly VALUE another... the life you change won't be just your own.

Counting blessings...

It's a late work night, so it's been a fruitful early day!

Sweet Potato Soup  is simmering softly on the stove. I have to admit this is a new favorite of Hubs and I. The smell of cinnamon and bay fills the kitchen.  A load of laundry is almost finished and I need to put the groceries away.

Hubs and I got our walk in first thing this morning, it was so damp and foggy, eerie.  I ran as much of it as I could, circling back to walk with him each time.  My Fit Bit and I are not speaking now, as it didn't even record my extra effort.  Oddly, even though I walked/ran further we both got the same mileage and pace... WHAT?  Oh well, I know what I did.

I'm debating on taking a gym bag and tackling some weights today.  Not sure.  I always take it with good intentions, and then end up without the time. I feel I probably will, it's not that much more to carry and if it is there, well I might make time during my dinner hour. I really don't feel like I will hit the treadmill any more, simply not enjoying it.  It will be my emergency back up for really gross days.

I had such an amazing day yesterday at work.  I was blessed to have conversations with several members that have either shared the journey of Europe or my current journey to health.  They filled me with passion and joy.  Friendships are harder to make as adults, these felt like baby steps in that direction.

After the later conversations I felt much stronger in my conviction that I want to become certified as a YDPP Coach.  The change it has made in my life is so powerful, I mean seriously I just typed about running, that I want to be able to share that.  To provide that amount of support and love to those people that are on their journey!  Not only did she fill my bucket emotionally, I almost cried when she told me that she had felt strongly drawn to visit our Y yesterday, that our conversation and lifted her spirits and given her hope. Wow!

Immediately after I was part of an interview process for another Y.  It wasn't the interview that inspired me. It was a question asked of my peers and I.  We were asked our "why" for doing what we do.  Powerful.  I felt my spirit and soul soar listening to them.  We are all passionate about making a difference in this crazy old world of ours.  We didn't talk about changing bodies.  We all talked about spirit, mind and finally bodies. Everything important!  We talked about the power of "yes" and supporting others.  About being there to support whatever journey they are on.

As I am chopping the veggies that will make Hubs and I lunch and dinner this morning, It dawned on me that I am so blessed.  That I am in a place in my life that is fulfilling, nourishing and encouraging!  I am married to my very best friend, God blessed me with my soul mate.  I have children and grand children that fill me with joy and pride.  I have friends old and new that complete me as a person, ones I cannot imagine living without, others that have drifted into my past - but helped shape me just the same.  I love my career!  I have pups and a kitty that bring me unconditional love and joy.

This journey that is my life... it's full of blessings!  Even when it's hectic, crazy, sad, frustrating, and just generally a downer... there are silver linings.

I'm glad I took a moment to count my blessings today, have you counted yours?

defining success...

How do you define success?  What is the goal, dream or gold ring that we are all reach for?  Does it change throughout your life?  Are you single focus?  Or are you more like me and have a million little goals that you are chasing?  And once you reach that goal... do immediately alter it for a greater reward or do you slowly savor it?  Hold it in your hands, grasp it close.  Be afraid that the winds will whisk it away or treasure it like something solid and unmoving?

The further I progress on this incredible journey that is my life, I have realized many things are not static.  I have some over arching "goals".  Things that I have always aspired to.  Being a good human, treating people as I want to be treated, being the best mom, wife, daughter, friend, etc that I can.

Have I always been successful at those things?  Of course not.  I have forgotten important dates, said the wrong thing, not been there when I'm needed, been too busy saving myself to see where I was needed.  The point is those are life goals, meaning they are works in progress.  In fact they are more guiding principals.

Success often has many forms.

I got a call at work today from Hubs, he had his annual physical.  As a result of all the hard work, he is OFF all medications.  High blood pressure - completely under control, doc told him that for every 10 pounds more he drops he can expect another 5 points lower.  Incredible!

Hubs is energized again.  He is ready to tackle those pounds that are still hanging out.

I'm gonna chalk that up in the success column.

I came home after a long day.  Right now days are a bit longer than I want them to be.  But they are so rewarding.  I feel that I am making a difference.  I feel like I am right where I want to be. Great conversations, paths charted, plans made.

That falls in the success column also.  Especially considering I was very close to giving up not so very long ago.

Tonight I came home and decided that I hadn't gotten enough exercise in.  My solution... another 2 miles. Just me and some seriously energizing music.  I even managed to drop my pace per mile to 16.42.

Again, success!

I am not sure how I define success.  But sitting at my kitchen island eating a bowl of homemade veggie barley soup, listening to music, with the remnants of sweat on my neck.  That amazing feeling that comes from pushing yourself to your limits vibrating through my muscles.  I feel that I am having some serious successes.

Tonight as I stretched my legs, trying to accomplish a bit more.  I had a million random thoughts rushing through my mind.  I have goals that I am working towards.  Fitness wise... Hubs and I are doing a 5K for Valentine weekend, how's that for serious relationship goals?

How do you define success?

my journey to me...

Can you believe that we are already half way through the first month of 2017?  

This morning as Gator and I played his game of racing to the door, I realized it didn't even phase me to run that half mile back with him.  He wasn't out of energy from it either.  A year ago, I barely could walk him that far, the pain was extreme. My left leg swollen and stiff. 

In January of last year they told us he wouldn't make it to summer.  He's sixteen now, and he and I race every morning.  And yes he always wins. After all he does have 4 legs. Some days it's simply a house length, other days like today it's a full half mile.  

Not Impressed!

The changes a year can make. I've been very introspective today, as I am sitting here sipping my hot coffee waiting for breakfast to finish baking, okay at this point maybe it is brunch, I am looking out at the ice covered trees.  It looks bitterly cold, it isn't, the the layers of ice are a bit deceiving. 

I am thinking about my "baby boy", he's far away on the southwestern coast.  I imagine it is going to be a warm day there, or at least warmer than here.  It's his birthday.  I miss him.  It never really gets easier having him so far away.

Memorial Weekend 2016 - Me and My Son

Maybe he will have a chance to call.  He's got company, so I doubt it.  I know that he knows I love and miss him and that I am over the moon proud of him, so I will catch him when he has a moment. 

So many changes from a year ago.  

I was in an ugly place.  I didn't realize it completely.  I mean, Hubs and I are very happy, together.  I frankly think we were always meant to be together.  I am one of those lucky people that truly found her soul mate.   

But seriously... 

A year ago I spent more hours than I care to remember sucking down anti-inflammatory medication, and wishing basically for my leg to simply fall off it was so non-functional, painful and swollen! I was miserable! I was hating therapy.  The only bright about it was the ice/compression machine.  The rest of it... well sucked!

I was not in a happy spot at all career wise.  I love what I do.  I feel the same about my career choice as I do about my husband choice. Although for very different reasons. I can't say I was in love with it a year ago. My love and passion were being stolen from me. 

I was never home, work/life balance simply did not exist.  My own health and well being simply didn't matter.  I was too worn and depressed to even consider what I knew I needed to do.  And honestly I feel like Hubs and I were suffering.  Both of us were struggling hard with what I will now call what it was obesity, honesty time - morbid obesity. Neither of us exercised.  We worked hard all day, giving it everything we had, came home too exhausted to make a decent dinner, so we either went out or ate crap at home collapsed in front of the television after struggling to walk up the road and walk our boys.  

It hadn't been a wake up call when Hubs had to have two hip replacements.  Prescription of high blood pressure medication... isn't that part of growing older?  Larger pants and shirts for both of us, well... we work so much.  I had to have large amounts of fluid drawn off my knee twice, nope didn't light up that light bulb that says "hey... stop you are on self-destruct".  The blood work that showed I was pre-diabetic, well couldn't that have been simply that I had the blood work when I was super ill with the flu?  Reality, yes, it could have, but I am sure now that it was very accurate.  It wasn't the flu, it was the fact that I was not willing to take responsibility for my own life. 

Seats on planes uncomfortable?  Well the airlines were simply making them smaller to squeeze more folks in. I was sure it was the same thing at the ball games and my cheeks burn with embarrassment now at the struggle with sitting in a restaurant both.  Table please, armless chairs better. 

I remember the tears burning in the back of my eyes when the orthopedist working on my knee said to me "well it's hard to tell because your knee is so fleshy", she was trying to be nice.  I knew what she meant. 

I remember the sadness I felt pushing my swollen leg trying to help my sweet grand baby learn to ride her bike, last spring, both of us giving up in tears and frustration.  Today, I ran almost one of the four miles I "walked".

It hasn't been an easy year of transition.  It had lots of false starts and ah-ha moments.  I'm not done transforming.  But wow, what a time it's been. 

A year ago I got my first Fitbit.  I never even considered seriously tracking what I ate. I mean sort of, but not really. The joy I got from the changes therapy started to make were minor, and easily got chased away by the other struggles in my life. 

I was browsing through some old photos today, cleaning out my phone. I thought I was doing really well when I went to see my son last year.  I had finally taken my health journey pretty serious, started walking and watching what I ate, I had already made serious strides forward.  Looking at those pictures, wow... just wow.

Christmas Week 2015

Memorial Weekend 2016

Memorial Weekend 2016

Today, I have a second Fitbit, a Charge2, the original one finally quit meeting my needs as I seriously started chasing my health. This morning, after walking the boys with Hubs, I popped in my ear buds and turned on iHeart radio (I've discovered my grand daughter is great at picking upbeat music) and off I went.  

New Years Eve... Silly

There is ice dripping off of everything, but the roads and sidewalks are clear.  I wasn't about to miss my opportunity.  33 degrees is a bit nippy, and a year ago, I wouldn't have even considered it. The slight misty rain would have been a complete deal breaker, as if I really needed an excuse back then. Today, I accepted it for what it was.  A challenge.  Game on Mother Nature, game on... 

And we thought it was cold this morning... Wimps 

Hubs is battling a cold.  So needless to say he was not about to join me out in the cold, rainy morning.  I understand completely.  And I have days that I will not walk myself.  Today wasn't that day. 

I am worried that my health journey is taking me in on a path that is moving away from Hubs.  I don't like it. I feel torn.  He's been struggling first with his back and now this stupid cold.  

I don't want him to go backwards, I am fearful that he will. 

I can't go back there.  I don't want that for him either. 

I know he is stronger than a few set backs.  He can be downright determined when he wants something.  I am probably more determined than he is.  But we have both been on this journey before. He isn't in the same place that I am career wise.  He's still battling the darkness. 

As last year progressed major external changes fed my internal changes. 

Life changed dramatically at work.  Hubs insisted on making us sign up for YDPP.  My career path changed. The people I surround myself with became far more positive and supportive. And I found my inner passion. 

That was what led me to walk in the rain, ice and cold these past two days.  I want to be the best person that I can be for me.

I won't say it isn't so that I won't have a long and happy life with Hubs, because it is.  I will not deny that I get excited when clothing that wouldn't fit in my wildest dreams is now too big.  Or when someone that hasn't seen me in a bit says "where is the other half of you" (that is met with shock - after all - how blind was I?  As I have a long journey ahead of me?).  I want to be full of energy for my grand daughter and my soon to arrive grand daughter.  I want to be full of life and energy for another grand children that have not even been thought of yet come to be. 

I guess my point with this ramble is to point out, that a year is a short time and the changes you can make in your own life can be amazing, powerful and life altering.  But you have to want to change.  You have to take off the blinders, you have to accept things, take responsibility and not lean on those excuses. 

I was the master of all those things.  Excuses were the worst part of it all, I could justify everything.  In fairness I was in a dark place, I was very unhappy and couldn't see a solution to any of it. Today, it's still easy to lean on those excuses, I just don't want to be accountable to them any longer. 

There are days I hurt, I don't want to walk.  I do anyway.  I have found that after about a mile, I'm not hurting.  I've found my pace mentally and physically.  I remember a mile seeming so far, not any longer. 

There are days that try as I might, I am super busy or the weather is horrible and I cannot make my walk happen.  I am still trying to solve that one.  I take a gym bag with me to work, after all I work at a Y - still doesn't always happen. But I am getting closer. 

Do I always cook at home.  Umm no.  But I am sure trying to get back into the swing of things.  Hubs doesn't really cook often and when I leave him to fend for us, it might often be pizza. My solution so far?  I actually bought groceries (yikes!) and I am working on a menu plan.  We'll see how it goes. 

I need to look back occasionally to see how very far I've come.  The next 120 or so days are going to be a heck of a ride... but I have a goal, a mission and a dream... I can do this.  

I will do this.