tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24497300192959012092024-03-07T05:51:54.357-08:00Hairline Fractureperfection is overratedAlisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.comBlogger540125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-27474211498257456932016-05-02T07:40:00.000-07:002016-05-02T07:40:54.413-07:00Procrastination Fodder for MondayIt's a rainy, chilly (for Texas in May) Monday morning, which meant it was hard to wake up and get moving this morning. But the kids were delivered to school on time and now I am lucky enough to be at home--have I mentioned I love working for my husband?--but later on I will probably have an errand to run that will take a couple of hours. For now I am ensconced on the couch in comfy clothes, but I am determined not to take a nap instead of getting the week off to a useful start. I need to do some yoga and get groceries before lunch.<br />
<br />
I love it when bloggers post lists of links for me to explore, so I've decided to start sharing things I've found on the web that intrigued me recently. I originally thought I might post these on Fridays, but the end of the week is a low-traffic time for blogs as everybody tries to finish up before the weekend; and then the weekend! I don't know about you, but this time of year is so busy that you might not get a chance to check out some links when you supposedly have time off.<br />
<br />
Plus, Mondays are a great time to <strike>procrastinate</strike> enjoy some interesting food for thought--when you've already done some work and are ready for a break, of course! (Imagine me winking here--my real-life winks are the most obvious thing in the world; I can't wink at all with my left eye and basically have to concentrate and squinch that side of my face up to wink with my right. Yes, I am <i>so</i> cool.)<br />
<br />
Without further ado, here are some things I wanted to show you.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/m-blazoned/the-default-parent_b_6031128.html" target="_blank">Are you the default parent? If you have to think about it, you’re not. You’d know. </a><br />
(This article includes a few four-letter words, FYI.)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.alicebradley.net/blog/2016/4/18/its-amazing-i-ever-get-anything-done" target="_blank">It's amazing I ever get anything done</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
I don't watch makeup video tutorials on a regular basis, but in <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=maGC3mBVXJ8" target="_blank">this satirical video</a>, YouTuber <a class="spf-link branded-page-header-title-link yt-uix-sessionlink" data-sessionlink="ei=ykQaV4HILIPIqwXr9ZjwAQ" dir="ltr" href="https://www.youtube.com/user/amygeliebter" target="_blank" title="Amy Geliebter">Amy Geliebter</a> shows what it can be like living with depression in a society full of stigma: “First start with priming your face with a nice, thick coat
of chemical imbalance....For our eyes, we’re going to be using the
shade, ‘just be happy’ for our base.”<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirhdSRPaY_3q5_QivfA24khI11ba7J5neayZWEdZkr2ydeUF7mGbTgP35prqKOj222IXfimJ5ijyn_G6P_z7cED4x-0gZCQ2xFqjA-ywP_Q0v7oSn4XOhscbfpSQGm8G2EwaZAigk8VGKm/s1600/depression+makeup.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirhdSRPaY_3q5_QivfA24khI11ba7J5neayZWEdZkr2ydeUF7mGbTgP35prqKOj222IXfimJ5ijyn_G6P_z7cED4x-0gZCQ2xFqjA-ywP_Q0v7oSn4XOhscbfpSQGm8G2EwaZAigk8VGKm/s1600/depression+makeup.png" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://modernmrsdarcy.com/4-levels-friendship/" target="_blank">A really interesting take on the four levels of relationship.</a> "We run into trouble at the point where <em>our behavior and our relationship status diverge</em>."<br />
<br />
<a href="http://lithub.com/on-the-heartbreaking-difficulty-of-getting-rid-of-books/" target="_blank">What sort of psychopath <em>rips out pages</em> from their favorite books and throws away the rest so they can, as [organizing guru Marie] Kondo puts it, “keep only the words they like?”</a><br />
I can give away <i>some</i> books but I could NEVER do that. (Why? What purpose would that even serve?)<br />
<br />
That took much longer than it should have, with the cutting and the pasting and what not, but it was still more fun than unloading the dishwasher or going to the grocery store! Let me know what you think about any or all of these links! I'm off to do some yoga (or to read a few blogs first...shhh, I won't tell anyone if you won't.)<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgiYSX0blGDZSH27Btdz5R8XgaQ8N0AhtxVNSzeCTkOGzt5ohpeTT8dkbVa1zzQvz1cUQxXhZu6FkzC77KaodRsZ02XrO-yvRVh42dgN2-niumab6Z8gNkOXH_G24Ww_gmirZk-yXmEINhYSvCVnXAvriYE54G1wdKdsLX37752MLFoqXp91xZxNemxsRZlN7xHjLoiISuqBPrbakXm-bX43h7TC7jxxhYXx_-r10gFdGyGGDRy1SgivA=" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" /></a>
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2Fi128.photobucket.com%2Falbums%2Fp192%2Ftheresamariegoon%2FMade%2520Digital%2Fbackground%2520papers%2Fhairlinefracturesignature.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgiYSX0blGDZSH27Btdz5R8XgaQ8N0AhtxVNSzeCTkOGzt5ohpeTT8dkbVa1zzQvz1cUQxXhZu6FkzC77KaodRsZ02XrO-yvRVh42dgN2-niumab6Z8gNkOXH_G24Ww_gmirZk-yXmEINhYSvCVnXAvriYE54G1wdKdsLX37752MLFoqXp91xZxNemxsRZlN7xHjLoiISuqBPrbakXm-bX43h7TC7jxxhYXx_-r10gFdGyGGDRy1SgivA=" --><!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgiYSX0blGDZSH27Btdz5R8XgaQ8N0AhtxVNSzeCTkOGzt5ohpeTT8dkbVa1zzQvz1cUQxXhZu6FkzC77KaodRsZ02XrO-yvRVh42dgN2-niumab6Z8gNkOXH_G24Ww_gmirZk-yXmEINhYSvCVnXAvriYE54G1wdKdsLX37752MLFoqXp91xZxNemxsRZlN7xHjLoiISuqBPrbakXm-bX43h7TC7jxxhYXx_-r10gFdGyGGDRy1SgivA=" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgiYSX0blGDZSH27Btdz5R8XgaQ8N0AhtxVNSzeCTkOGzt5ohpeTT8dkbVa1zzQvz1cUQxXhZu6FkzC77KaodRsZ02XrO-yvRVh42dgN2-niumab6Z8gNkOXH_G24Ww_gmirZk-yXmEINhYSvCVnXAvriYE54G1wdKdsLX37752MLFoqXp91xZxNemxsRZlN7xHjLoiISuqBPrbakXm-bX43h7TC7jxxhYXx_-r10gFdGyGGDRy1SgivA=" -->Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-52517185876649349942016-04-25T11:47:00.000-07:002016-04-25T11:47:42.885-07:00My Kids Caused My Memory Loss<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-ad18756a-4eb9-c90e-9cb5-9c88b9c74458" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’m a little frustrated at myself for not jotting down the idea I had earlier for a blog post, because now I can’t remember it at all. I mean, that’s Rule #1 of writing: don’t trust yourself to remember an idea. I am not even busy at work--I stayed home, away from the sawdust, to continue recuperating from a nasty allergy attack--so I have no excuse.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNwUi3QKQOCbitIkOYY7DR6POP4-HYmqAo9AkJYeXrKsGpaOuUTgJm9qO5Oe2ooZQ4yjVwxMLjb1KzN75EEywCFLjrAZ7DdGW7Z1h8gPXVONUblqm0QJYcxkKP-zCq2RK-xNnpoJr2IcFG/s1600/memory+loss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNwUi3QKQOCbitIkOYY7DR6POP4-HYmqAo9AkJYeXrKsGpaOuUTgJm9qO5Oe2ooZQ4yjVwxMLjb1KzN75EEywCFLjrAZ7DdGW7Z1h8gPXVONUblqm0QJYcxkKP-zCq2RK-xNnpoJr2IcFG/s320/memory+loss.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yet I can sing a jingle for a local newspaper that went out of business 30 years ago. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I used to have a memory like a steel trap. My parents marveled over my ability to parrot back song lyrics I’d only heard once. I was a fountain of (probably useless) information I had read “somewhere.” I could remember tiny details from past experiences. This continued up until my children were born, when first sleep deprivation and then their social, academic, and athletic schedules demanded all my available mental real estate and then some. So yes, I totally blame them. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Now both of my children have steel-trap memories. I’ve learned that if one of them asserts a fact from memory--say, something we were talking about last week, or the date of their next field trip--they’re probably right. (An exception can be made for my son’s claims about “facts” from the videos he watches on YouTube, since he tends to exaggerate and also often fails to understand nuance and context. But when it comes to things like how to do a math problem, he’s definitely going to be right and I’m definitely going to be clueless.)</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Instead of arguing with them only to be proven wrong, or getting discouraged because my memory isn’t what it once was, I have begun harnessing their powers for (my) good. “Remind me to wash your basketball uniform after dinner,” I say. Or, “Make sure you ask your teacher about that permission slip.” Most of the time, they remember.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And if they don’t? (Which does happen because they’re kids and they usually don’t actually WANT to remember the stuff I’m putting back on them.) Well, then, I just look back at them and say, “Hey, it’s not MY fault. I told you to help me remember.”</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I may have lost some memory, but I’ve gained some wisdom!</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">May you remember everything truly important this week! </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></span></div>
<a href="http://s128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/?action=view&current=hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" /></a>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-12339806922642122982016-04-23T07:34:00.003-07:002016-04-24T10:22:20.622-07:00My Dewey's 24-Hour Read-a-Thon Post!<b>Update on 4/24/16, 12:02 p.m.</b><br />
Obviously I did not get around to updating again during the actual read-a-thon, which was fine, because I didn't do much more reading since at 3:15 we left for my daughter's first tournament with her new select basketball team and didn't return until 9:50 p.m. I knew the tournament would interrupt my read-a-thon plans once we'd decided to let her join the team, but I didn't know how long we'd be gone, especially since we spontaneously decided to go out to eat with the team after the games. (It was worth it for team bonding purposes, though. We got to know the parents better, too; they're nice people.) I did manage to finish <i>Persepolis</i> after we got back. I don't think I could've read as many pages in a conventional book.<br />
<br />
Here are my answers to the <b>End of Event Survey.</b><br />
<h5>
</h5>
<ol>
<li><i>Which hour was most daunting for you? </i> Well, as I didn't exactly tax myself, none of them were very daunting, but I did get very sleepy from 10-11 p.m. </li>
<li><i>Could you list a few high-interest books that you think could keep a Reader engaged for next year?</i> <i>Persepolis </i>was interesting to me and I think graphic novels in general are good to have on hand as a break from longer texts. I think sticking to shorter books was a good idea, and of course anything with an exciting plot is helpful (for me, that was Shirley Jackson's <i>The Haunting of Hill House</i>). It also seems fun to have a book on hand that you've been dying to get to. I wish I'd had Curtis Sittenfeld's new retelling of <i>Pride and Prejudice, </i>titled <i>Eligible. </i></li>
<li><i>Do you have any suggestions for how to improve the Read-a-thon next season? </i>No. As a first-timer, the structure seemed like it really worked. </li>
<li><i>What do you think worked really well in this year’s Read-a-thon? </i>I especially enjoyed the Facebook group and seeing all the pictures of books, snacks, and places where people were reading. I thought everyone was lovely and encouraging. Some people would feel insecure about their progress, saying things like, "I suck! I'm still reading my first book!" And then immediately others would respond with things like, "Hey, all that matters is that you're reading and having fun." So true!</li>
<li><i>How many books did you read? </i>I finished two that I had already started and made a start on another (which I have since read more of today.)</li>
<li><i>What were the names of the books you read? The Haunting of Hill House</i> by Shirley Jackson<i>; The Complete Persepolis</i> by Marjane Satrapi; and <i>Complications: A Surgeon's Notes on an Imperfect Science</i> by Atul Gawande. </li>
<li><i>Which book did you enjoy most? Hill House</i> made me want to read everything Jackson ever wrote. </li>
<li><i>Which did you enjoy least? </i>I enjoyed all three, but I realized quickly that I'd already read <i>Complications</i> so the experience wasn't the joy of discovering something new. </li>
<li><i>How likely are you to participate in the Read-a-thon again? What role would you be likely to take next time? </i>I'm definitely planning to participate and hope to read many more hours next time. I can't see taking a formal role, but I loved reading and responding to others' posts on social media.<b> </b></li>
</ol>
<b> </b><br />
<b>Update at 2:47 p.m.</b><br />
Books I'm reading: <i>Persepolis, </i>pp. 232-276. Marjane has now returned to Iran and is having trouble fitting in after being in Europe for so long.<br />
"I was shocked. At least one street in three is named after a martyr." I feel that I understand the Middle East a little better after reading this powerful graphic novel.<br />
<br />
<i>Complications</i>, pp. 1-18. Pretty sure I've read this before, but I still like it.<br />
"We look for medicine to be an orderly field of knowledge and procedure. But it is not. It is an imperfect science, an enterprise of constantly changing knowledge, uncertain information, fallible individuals, and at the same time lives on the line. There is science in what we do, yes, but also habit, intuition, and sometimes plain old guessing. The gap between what we know and what we aim for persists. And this gap complicates everything we do."<br />
<br />
Snacking update: A pickle spear, chips, and fire-roasted salsa. Later, a package of cinnamon brown sugar BelVita breakfast biscuits. <br />
<br />
<b>Update at 12:38 p.m.</b><br />
Book I finished: <i>The Haunting of Hill House.</i> Now I want to read everything Shirley Jackson ever wrote. Pages read: pp. 108-182 and the introduction (I was right to save it for last; like most scholarly introductions, it's full of spoilers.<br />
If you've never read this, I highly recommend it! A quick, mesmerizing read.<br />
<br />
Next up: <i>Complications</i> by Atul Gawande.<br />
<br />
<b>Update at 11:09 a.m. </b><br />
I really only started reading about 10:00. It's my husband's fault for watching <i>Freedom Writers </i>in front of me; I've somehow never seen it but it kept pulling me in. I finally asked him to record the whole thing for me to watch later and I retreated to the bedroom.<br />
<br />
I caught my husband's very bad, no good, terrible, awful cold so I'm not ecstatic but then again, I'd be miserable even if I weren't trying to read all day. <br />
<br />
Books I'm reading:<br />
<i>The Haunting of Hill House</i> by Shirley Jackson. Pages read: pp. 42-108. Obviously I had already started this one and now Jackson's imaginative take on a haunted house is finally catching on with me. Psychological horror is the kind I'm interested in.<br />
<br />
<i>The Complete Persepolis</i> by Marjane Satrapi. Pages read: pp. 204-232. At this point in the memoir, Marjane is a teenager studying at a French high school in Vienna. Her mom comes to visit, and she gets her first real boyfriend (spoiler alert: the first one was gay.)<br />
<br />
Snacking update:<br />
Still super full from breakfast, but I need to hydrate, so I'm off to get a drink and start a load of laundry.<br />
<br />
<b>9:34 a.m.</b> <br />
I'm late getting started, but I knew I would be, since we had to
continue our long-standing tradition of eating a hearty breakfast at our
favorite local restaurant. I don't know how many Saturdays we've gone
in a row, but let's just say the cashier said if we don't show up, she
wonders what happened to us. This way, I'm full and happy as I start to
read!<br />
<br />
Here are a couple of memes from the first three hours:<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Our Bookish Childhoods</b><br />
1) <i>Little House on the Prairie</i>: I wanted to BE Laura. I spent many hours pretending my bed was a wagon and other make-believe games.<br />
<br />
<b></b>2) The Chronicles of Narnia: Same with Narnia; I desperately wished I could go there.<br />
<br />
3) <i>Little Women:</i> I have had multiple copies over the years. Like everyone else, I identified with Jo. This book is truly a timeless classic.<br />
<br />
4) <i>Jane Eyre</i>: We had an abridged version which I read when I was around 11. I was entranced and not by the "romance." Jane is such an original heroine, since she is "poor, plain, and little" but she refuses to give up her autonomy and dignity.<br />
<br />
5) <i>The Secret Garden</i>. I once read that one is either a <i>Secret Garden</i> fan or a <i>Little Princess </i>fan. I liked <i>A Little Princess</i> but Mary Lennox's mysterious garden enchanted me.<br />
<br />
<b></b><br />
<b>Intro Meme</b> <br />
1) What fine part of the world are you reading from today?<br />
Burleson, TX (just south of Fort Worth, for you non-Texans)<br />
<br />
2) Which book in your stack are you most looking forward to?<br />
Hard to say, they all sound good. I'm loving <i>Persepolis</i>, which will be my graphic novel "palate cleanser" although it's hardly light fare (seeing that it's written by an Iranian woman. I'm learning stuff I never knew about the Iraq-Iran war.)<br />
<br />
3) Which snack are you most looking forward to?<br />
I'm all about the salt lately (thanks, perimenopause), so chips, salsa, and guacamole are delish.<br />
<br />
4) Tell us a little something about yourself!<br />
I'm a 40 year old mom with a 13-year-old daughter and 10-year-old son. I attended four different universities but only have one degree (and one teaching credential; I also have two halves of different master's degrees). I've only ever lived in Texas but look forward to traveling more as the kids and our budget get bigger. I used to teach high school English but now I'm the office manager of our cabinet shop, which is much more flexible and less stressful than teaching public school. I'm considering library school because books are my favorite things in the world (besides my family).<br />
<br />
5) If you participated in the last read-a-thon, what’s one thing you’ll
do different today? If this is your first read-a-thon, what are you most
looking forward to?<br />
This is my first read-a-thon. I'm most looking forward to meeting some new bookish friends and reading alongside my daughter. Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-60932850690806221572016-04-21T16:51:00.003-07:002016-04-21T16:51:42.769-07:00Always Go To the Funeral<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-114f3326-3b34-94aa-bf6b-27fd917bf3db" style="font-weight: normal;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I read a great article yesterday called <a href="http://www.npr.org/2005/08/08/4785079/always-go-to-the-funeral" target="_blank">“Always Go To the Funeral,” </a>which was originally recorded for NPR’s show “All Things Considered.” They asked people to write short essays on the topic “This I Believe,” and Deirdre Sullivan, a lawyer in New York, wrote that she had learned from her father to always go to the funeral. To learn why, you should read the piece--it’s really great and also short. Here’s my favorite part of the essay, though:</span></div>
<br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“In my humdrum life, the daily battle hasn't been good versus evil. It's hardly so epic. Most days, my real battle is doing good versus doing nothing….In going to funerals, I've come to believe that while I wait to make a grand heroic gesture, I should just stick to the small inconveniences that let me share in life's inevitable, occasional calamity.”</span></div>
<br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We needed to go to a viewing tonight and it wasn’t very convenient. We can’t attend the funeral during the day tomorrow, so that left tonight from 5-7 p.m., at a funeral home at least 30 minutes away, maybe more at that time of day, and we are hosting a Limu party at our house at 7 p.m., to be followed by homework and snacks and “Oh my gosh, it’s after 9:00, you have to get in bed NOW!”</span></div>
<br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But there was no question that I would go. I didn’t know the deceased man very well, but I do know his sons and their families, having attended church with them for nearly my entire life. I babysat one son’s daughters, and the other son and his wife helped us start a small group ministry. Both have been great examples on how to do parenting right. Now their children are grown and they have lost their dad--a reminder to me (as if I really needed another one) that life is short. It may be less than convenient for me to fit a funeral home visitation into my schedule, but it’s worse to lose someone you love.</span></div>
<br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In the article, Sullivan makes the point that we should always choose to do things that are inconvenient for us when they would be meaningful for the other person. I have often thought that I want to be a more thoughtful person, who sends encouraging notes and remembers birthdays and gives excellent presents because I pay attention. Well, guess what: this is a way to actually</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> start</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> being more thoughtful. </span></div>
<br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When Justin’s parents died, ten years apart, I was struck by how much the simple gestures meant to us. There is a reason that people traditionally bring food to the grieving: it’s one less thing for them to have to deal with, and on top of that, it’s delicious and therefore comforting. I promised myself I’d do better about providing food to the bereaved, and I have remembered to keep trying. So for this funeral, I offered to bake two cakes, and was told that one would suffice. I know this was not because my baking skills were being disparaged, but because plenty of other people had volunteered to bring or pay for food for the family meal after the service. That is encouraging, in this world which is full of so much animosity. We can still be a village. </span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So I baked the cake and frosted it, and it’s on the counter in its disposable foil pan. It fell a little in the center, but that just means those pieces will have extra frosting on them. I went to the viewing, and the family was happy to see me. And I was glad I had gone. </span></b></span>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-65832693120138368602016-04-18T04:30:00.000-07:002016-04-18T04:30:07.838-07:00Planning for a 24-hour Read-a-thonOkay, real talk: there's absolutely no way I'm going to be up for 24 hours, because the only thing I love more than books (and my family) is sleep. A few weeks ago, I saw a blog post about this phenomenon and decided to participate. I particularly love that there are no rules for being a part other than reading for some part of the 24 hours. That's it.<br />
<br />
[It's nice that the plan is flexible, because I <i>had</i> cleared my schedule and planned to read all day, only breaking for minor things like food and personal hygiene. But now C has joined a basketball team and next Saturday will be a tournament. (They practice weekly and play in tournaments once a month or so.)<br />
<br />
No biggie--I can still read on the drive up there and in between games as well as that evening. I won't get as many pages read, but it's really about quality and enjoyment over quantity.]<br />
<br />
"Back up, Alison," I can hear you saying. "What exactly is this read-a-thon of which you speak?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8LUfsVCKaQmx8gQ6LlLeI5_9sVM7BLbdghpOglc13_e8tqVB7J9aP4VilyOWRV7TM9oV3tS4XYBDnhyphenhyphenLGKC0FbuEE1jgjYn3UmG5DDrU3jqji_lhvbex8eNI63vAIXv3SLqKuipNwVOd7/s1600/DEWEYs.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8LUfsVCKaQmx8gQ6LlLeI5_9sVM7BLbdghpOglc13_e8tqVB7J9aP4VilyOWRV7TM9oV3tS4XYBDnhyphenhyphenLGKC0FbuEE1jgjYn3UmG5DDrU3jqji_lhvbex8eNI63vAIXv3SLqKuipNwVOd7/s320/DEWEYs.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm glad you asked! According to <a href="http://www.24hourreadathon.com/?page_id=5" target="_blank">the home page</a>:<br />
<br />
"For 24 hours, we read books, post to our blogs, Twitters, Tumblrs,
Goodreads and MORE about our reading, and visit other readers’ homes
online. We also participate in mini-challenges throughout the day. It
happens twice a year, in April and in October.<br />
<br />
It was created by the beloved <b><a href="https://web.archive.org/web/20090226060822/http://deweymonster.com/" target="_blank">Dewey </a></b>(her
blog is archived at the Wayback Machine). The first one was held in
October 2007. Dewey died in late 2008. We’re still saddened by her
absence, but the show must go on. The read-a-thon was renamed to honor
its founder in 2009.<br />
<br />
Dewey’s 24-Hour Read-a-thon is hosted by <a href="http://www.capriciousreader.com/" target="_blank">Heather </a>and <a href="http://estellasrevenge.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Andi </a>of <a href="http://www.estellasociety.com/" target="_blank">The Estella Society</a>, with help from volunteers."<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJx9sH6CQr_Xytr_CnFGPMJA5BkIzms-lP8q2I8PUw7gOUt3FXTw42_LPBvBF5oFpBz6kn1UMo1nWXKNSuoEnNy2sHOQXOu9o_WWMX7QgiZzmHM46hwkfpaVtajYTf0RIx3pAyishKMdX/s1600/51PUTD03R7L._SX317_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJx9sH6CQr_Xytr_CnFGPMJA5BkIzms-lP8q2I8PUw7gOUt3FXTw42_LPBvBF5oFpBz6kn1UMo1nWXKNSuoEnNy2sHOQXOu9o_WWMX7QgiZzmHM46hwkfpaVtajYTf0RIx3pAyishKMdX/s200/51PUTD03R7L._SX317_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="127" /></a>This is my first read-a-thon, and I'm very excited, especially because my
13-year-old daughter is willing to do it with me! She also loves to
read, although she's all about reading one book at a time, whereas I
need to have options, especially with so many hours in a row dedicated
to reading. I tried to convince her to check out at least one
alternative book besides her current read, but we'll see if she listens
to me. She can always reread a favorite. <br />
<br />
I have several books on
my new 2016 read-a-thon list, although most of them are being requested
through the library so it's not an actual pile yet. I wanted to have a
variety of genres and tones. Here goes:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://smile.amazon.com/My-Brilliant-Friend-Neapolitan-Novels/dp/1609450787/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1460492442&sr=8-1&keywords=brilliant+friend" target="_blank">My Brilliant Friend</a> by
Elena Ferrante: because the rave reviews of so many readers can't be
wrong. Also my first translated work to read this year. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://smile.amazon.com/Haunting-Hill-House-Penguin-Classics/dp/0143039989/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460492623&sr=1-1&keywords=haunting+hill+house" target="_blank">The Haunting of Hill House</a> by Shirley Jackson because I recently read <i>Let Me
Tell You</i> and wanted more, and also, how have I not read this already?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SUYg645mTC9ogUDtJqmQ_rGloo7yTpKYlEM84MMgqGebp-_tSFSN-oP2DTC8ToANlQwxmgdFfKij7_bGzSh-UQ7l2TmcCP15eKIIasbaA9jH2kRQwUwszKSos4lJ6mRX3KOTS1OIdFl4/s1600/51Zj7ohwK1L._SX336_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SUYg645mTC9ogUDtJqmQ_rGloo7yTpKYlEM84MMgqGebp-_tSFSN-oP2DTC8ToANlQwxmgdFfKij7_bGzSh-UQ7l2TmcCP15eKIIasbaA9jH2kRQwUwszKSos4lJ6mRX3KOTS1OIdFl4/s200/51Zj7ohwK1L._SX336_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="135" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBQHWYd_SCnr1kO2g0S38IBRQug7J1yGSZ09D3ynPY4FHS0X08d4_Y_vvNw1CVmil80UL57iuylLbuPVn9GzBITO54eBDtHUZscICnP8chAqs-km7UzWeUslFR_C9Ki5pgpODuIwsXH5MA/s1600/41j0HePe1BL._SX282_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBQHWYd_SCnr1kO2g0S38IBRQug7J1yGSZ09D3ynPY4FHS0X08d4_Y_vvNw1CVmil80UL57iuylLbuPVn9GzBITO54eBDtHUZscICnP8chAqs-km7UzWeUslFR_C9Ki5pgpODuIwsXH5MA/s200/41j0HePe1BL._SX282_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="135" /></a><br />
<a href="http://smile.amazon.com/Beekeepers-Apprentice-Segregation-Russell-Mystery/dp/1250055709/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460492662&sr=1-1&keywords=beekeeper%27s+apprentice" target="_blank">The Beekeeper's Apprentice </a>by Laurie King: this is the only one I'm not
sure if I'll get in time, but I'll read it anyway because it looks like a
good mystery series, and I don't have any mysteries currently in line.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://smile.amazon.com/Complications-Surgeons-Notes-Imperfect-Science/dp/0312421702/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460492752&sr=1-1&keywords=complications+gawande" target="_blank">Complications</a>
by Atul Gawande: because I've been a fan of his writing for a long
time, and I wanted a nonfiction book that would keep me interested. His
inquisitive yet scientific voice seems perfect to counteract a possible
overdose of fiction.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://smile.amazon.com/Complete-Persepolis-Marjane-Satrapi/dp/0375714839/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460492794&sr=1-1&keywords=complete+persepolis" target="_blank">The Complete Persepolis </a>by Marjane Satrapi: I
definitely wanted a graphic novel as a break from so many words. This
one has been on my TBR for a long time. <br />
<br />
I had <u>My Name is Asher
Lev</u> by Chaim Potok on the list but I think I'll wait on that one. I also
have <a href="http://smile.amazon.com/Dodger-Terry-Pratchett/dp/0062009516/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460492882&sr=1-1&keywords=dodger" target="_blank">Dodger</a> by Terry Pratchett for a reread on standby.<br />
<br />
C just started <a href="http://smile.amazon.com/Cress-Lunar-Chronicles-Marissa-Meyer/dp/1250007224/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1460834182&sr=8-1&keywords=cress+book" target="_blank">Cress</a> by Marissa Meyer (I'm congratulating myself on introducing her to the Lunar Chronicles). She will probably read in the car and all evening, too. Love my bookish girl! <br />
<br />
If you want to join in, let me know and sign up at the home page or on Goodreads! There are also fun mini-challenges throughout the day, and you can sign up for people to "visit" you online and cheer you on.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-31295704382046174652016-04-08T12:32:00.001-07:002016-04-12T12:35:46.445-07:00Alison's Favorite Things: Springtime EditionSo I've been posting some heavy posts lately, and while topics about mental health and my kiddos growing up way too fast (sob) are certainly a big part of my life lately, so are some other things. Some might even call these things trivial or frivolous, but phooey on those people. I say the art of happiness is finding small treats for yourself on a regular basis.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn6vjMHQvhBWjbqffF8VXByvuqwtQdmOOzxFOprWi4EeJOKNGnfMxFQNJ0hNv2rGPL0tfc_0jLwoPUI59wwvnQNrIMvTUPHtrDne1vsUy2_gAX2AHrbssZOsh1vwBZVNr9FpxLmTAJz2Ue/s1600/index.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn6vjMHQvhBWjbqffF8VXByvuqwtQdmOOzxFOprWi4EeJOKNGnfMxFQNJ0hNv2rGPL0tfc_0jLwoPUI59wwvnQNrIMvTUPHtrDne1vsUy2_gAX2AHrbssZOsh1vwBZVNr9FpxLmTAJz2Ue/s400/index.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love Donna Meagle and Tom Haverford!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So here are some things I'm treating myself to/enjoying lately.<br />
<br />
1. The perfect jeans (for me). Y'all. You have NO IDEA how much I hate jeans shopping (probably the same amount that you hate jeans shopping.) I've bought so many pairs that "fit OK" only to end up hating them within a week. I'd obsessively read any article titled "Your Perfect Jeans" only to apathetically forget to shop for them. They didn't seem perfect, anyway.<br />
<br />
The problem is the Gap. No, not the elusive Thigh Gap or the clothing store. I have a smaller waist-to-hip ratio than average, I guess. Pants that fit my hips often don't fit my waist. (Although aging is thickening my waist. Thanks, perimenopause!) Anybody know why even skirts with a zipper aren't as problematic? It probably has to do with rise over run or something. (I know that's a math thing, not a pants thing. I was trying to be funny. Be kind.)<br />
<br />
Old Navy rockstar skinnies are good for me--although I had to size up to a number I'd never been before--as are any skinnies with stretch, so that trend has been nice. But I found the BEST everyday jeans that are more comfy than the Old Navy ones: Denizen from Levi's, found at Target.<br />
<br />
Target! How do they manage to find the best things for us middle-aged moms at a great price point? It's a mystery.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://scene7.targetimg1.com/is/image/Target/23973518?wid=138&hei=138&qlt=85&fmt=pjpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="DENIZEN® from Levi's - Women's Curvy Skinny Jeans Crisp Night" border="0" class="tileImage" src="http://scene7.targetimg1.com/is/image/Target/23973518?wid=138&hei=138&qlt=85&fmt=pjpeg" style="visibility: visible;" /></a>I get the <a href="http://www.target.com/p/denizen-from-levi-s-women-s-curvy-skinny-jeans-crisp-night/-/A-23973518#prodSlot=medium_1_2&term=denizen+jeans" target="_blank">Curvy Skinny jeans</a>. (I need these darker ones for dressier outfits; mine are more of a faded wash.) They don't stretch out over multiple wearings and the waistband never gaps. They have a Short for shrimps like me and a Long for you tall gals. I got the boot cut ones too, and they're a <i>little</i> more like a flare than a subtle boot cut, plus I need a slight heel with them, so I'm not gonna wear them as often.<br />
<br />
<br />
But if you have the Gap (or even if you don't--they have a Modern Skinny fit for less curvy women) check them out. At 29.99, they can't be beaten!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoV231Y4Lo_fJTMcyOdcDAY7UVQ_7cboaaBPR1BDdhdkqZldpjaXi3eQEqZnFdaLLgW7UNojS87R5tGk4BSKXMLp1LvOLjX2IlBzRJLEPTY00N_imI8LGUNooav29612YdkHw6YUybS6l6/s1600/LipShimmer201406.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoV231Y4Lo_fJTMcyOdcDAY7UVQ_7cboaaBPR1BDdhdkqZldpjaXi3eQEqZnFdaLLgW7UNojS87R5tGk4BSKXMLp1LvOLjX2IlBzRJLEPTY00N_imI8LGUNooav29612YdkHw6YUybS6l6/s1600/LipShimmer201406.png" /></a>2. Man, I'm gonna have to shorten my rave reviews or this post will take forever. Another thing I'm enjoying: tinted lip balm. When I see myself in pictures I always think my face is so "blah"...unless I have a little lip color on. And this winter I needed lip balm constantly, so it made sense to try a tinted one. I had one by NYX that was fine, but I wanted a smaller tube that was easier to apply without a mirror, so I went with the tried-and-true Burt's Bees and I love it.<br />
<br />
I got the <a href="http://www.burtsbees.com/Lip-Shimmer/02313-00,default,pd.html" target="_blank">Lip Shimmer</a>. It provides sheer yet noticeable color that stays put for a good amount of time and has a nice minty tingly feeling on my lips. It's definitely my everyday go-to now. I'm also going to try their gloss and maybe even (gasp!) their lipstick in the hopes that they will be more moisturizing than the ones I've tried.<br />
<br />
<br />
3. Yoga. I've found my favorite exercise for life. No, yoga isn't just stretching with a nap at the end (though the relaxation benefits are significant for a stressball like me.) The research undeniably shows that <a href="http://www.health.harvard.edu/mind-and-mood/yoga-for-anxiety-and-depression" target="_blank">a regular yoga practice is as effective as medication for treating anxiety and depression. </a>(So is cardio, so I [reluctantly] alternate that into the mix.) Unlike other exercise, I actually look forward to doing yoga. I haven't done a class yet, but am planning to try one at our gym that meets mid-morning a couple of days a week. (I'm not doing <i>anything</i> at 5 a.m.)<br />
<br />
I would have been intimidated to start with a class, so I'm glad I started where I did--free YouTube videos. I love Sara Beth of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-0CzRZeML8zw4pFTVDq65Q" target="_blank">SaraBeth Yoga</a>--her voice is soothing as is her background music (although she has some music-free videos as well--and she is excellent at explaining exactly what to do. I rarely even have to peek at the screen. Plus, she's not overly chatty like some of the yoga teachers on YouTube.<br />
<br />
Even if I only have 15 minutes at the end of the day, I know I'll end up feeling more relaxed and refreshed after I do my yoga routine, and therefore I willingly do it...every day. I've never been able to say that about any other exercise routine.<br />
<br />
Along those lines, I'm reading <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Yoga-Pursuit-Happiness-Finding-Unexpected/dp/1626252874/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1460143939&sr=8-1&keywords=yoga+pursuit+happiness" target="_blank"><i>Yoga and the Pursuit of Happiness</i> </a>by Sam Chase, which I picked up on a whim at the library. Turns out it delves into <i>why</i> a yoga practice works, using both ancient Eastern wisdom and modern Western science, which is right up in my wheelhouse. I'm taking notes on it (which I do with nonfiction books I really want to learn from) and doing the "Inquiries" in my journal. I actually meditated for 15 minutes this morning--a new personal best!<br />
<br />
Now it's time for me to stop going on about my favorites. What are <i>you</i> loving these days?<br />
<br />
<a href="http://s128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/?action=view&current=hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" /></a>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-84580104950650684172016-04-04T10:42:00.000-07:002016-04-04T10:47:29.436-07:00Brave<br />
Yesterday in church the worship team was singing <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Hi-VMxT6fc" target="_blank">the song that goes like this</a>:<br />
<br />
<i>You make me brave</i><br />
<i> You make me brave</i><br />
<i> You call me out beyond the shore into the waves</i><br />
<i> You make me brave</i><br />
<i> You make me brave</i><br />
<i> No fear can hinder now the promises you've made</i><br />
<br />
Now what is a person who suffers with anxiety supposed to do with lines like that?<br />
<i> </i><br />
So many times I've mentally beaten myself up because I don't feel brave at ALL. The last line of this stanza is based on 1 John 4:18, which reads, "But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love" (NIV).<br />
<br />
This verse made me feel awful whenever I was having an episode,* because I felt frozen with fear. It may sound absurd, but every weekend, I dreaded making a grocery list and going to the store...I think because it involved so many minor decisions that I felt overwhelmed. So when I was afraid to buy food for my family, I knew<i> </i>I wasn't "made perfect in love." I DEFINITELY wasn't brave. If He was "calling me out beyond the shore into the waves," I hadn't made it off the beach.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5HJnrR8S2MjYjHqKgGNGI_0DGlcZQj4pmb1kjEYHG2pVBLz-ig1b2CZNLwS2Q74Rxr7FJ1M8qPiXt5MNuVvpbuI0iTJQtAPcdtqYMdGaaDL_URQurJt064byQBDngGdXu_MHqtiStr0Db/s1600/209369745-looking-at-view-gran-canaria-horizon-over-water-stone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5HJnrR8S2MjYjHqKgGNGI_0DGlcZQj4pmb1kjEYHG2pVBLz-ig1b2CZNLwS2Q74Rxr7FJ1M8qPiXt5MNuVvpbuI0iTJQtAPcdtqYMdGaaDL_URQurJt064byQBDngGdXu_MHqtiStr0Db/s400/209369745-looking-at-view-gran-canaria-horizon-over-water-stone.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
And surely that was my fault.<br />
<br />
Setting aside the theological angle, here is what I realized in a flash yesterday while the song was being sung (and I believe it applies to everyone, regardless of whether you are a person who participates in a religious faith or not).<br />
<br />
First, many thinkers have clarified that <b>courage is not absence of fear. If it were, there wouldn't be anything particularly admirable about actions we define as courageous.</b><br />
<br />
Think about it. If one cannot experience fear--and a few rare souls have this condition--then they are not knowingly choosing to be brave. They're just naively trusting as they go along. For me, courage is <b>choosing to act according to one's values without regard to the danger to oneself. </b>When I Googled "definition of courage," an even more succinct phrase came up: "the ability to do something that frightens one."<br />
<br />
This is why my counselor gently asked me while I was struggling with the grocery store thing, "If a person has something that she's really afraid of (like going to the grocery store), and she does it anyway, does that make her a weak person or a strong person?"<br />
<br />
Another mistake we make: we equate bravery only with physical courage. No one would deny that a firefighter who goes into a burning building to save someone is courageous. Since the will to survive is hardwired into human nature, that kind of bravery goes against all our instincts. It takes enormous willpower and a lot of adrenaline (I'm guessing) to overcome that kind of pre-programming.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKmBQJNcUGRBVNDt7DToaemyy-2L4UeTi81yOMZFC8xafRocVHL7qex_7rV7H7R83qKfLVPU1Bkv0YKYTwlNGbT9-AZww6zYRW0btPVdhqfD_U9OQs8gSya3eTCdrsjLJ_PhK42eVT-mL3/s1600/Firefighter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKmBQJNcUGRBVNDt7DToaemyy-2L4UeTi81yOMZFC8xafRocVHL7qex_7rV7H7R83qKfLVPU1Bkv0YKYTwlNGbT9-AZww6zYRW0btPVdhqfD_U9OQs8gSya3eTCdrsjLJ_PhK42eVT-mL3/s400/Firefighter.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbU4BfLQRRT8s3rHPfdW9vaaOEIc-Dz3yYoxHIRseLTx8ypGTxrSx14WzDMiuZ48E7MpMhSAIWbLBXR8y47aZeQ6OOVVBTa9gqbDllT4TxOJqhSRQjjT7UH1UxiGD_RlpLLy02Vv5NBaYf/s1600/Corrie+ten+Boom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbU4BfLQRRT8s3rHPfdW9vaaOEIc-Dz3yYoxHIRseLTx8ypGTxrSx14WzDMiuZ48E7MpMhSAIWbLBXR8y47aZeQ6OOVVBTa9gqbDllT4TxOJqhSRQjjT7UH1UxiGD_RlpLLy02Vv5NBaYf/s320/Corrie+ten+Boom.jpg" width="269" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corrie ten Boom, author of <i>The Hiding Place</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I would never want to diminish the incredible difficulty of this kind of unselfish courage. In fact, I'll come back to it in a minute. But now I'd like to point out another kind of courage, a quieter kind. I've heard it described as <b>moral courage. </b>It can involve taking a stand against evil publicly or behind the scenes. Sometimes it too involves risking one's life; an example is the people who hid Jews during the Holocaust. In that case, secretly defying the Nazis' evil was more valuable than open defiance, since if you are alive you can save more people than if you're dead. Still, no one would disagree that Corrie ten Boom and Oskar Schindler were every bit as brave as the firefighters on 9/11...and many of those who hid Jewish people paid for their disobedience with their lives, showing that it's possible to exhibit both kinds of courage at the same time.<br />
<br />
I'm coming to understand that a person can be brave even when lives aren't literally at stake. It seems absolutely absurd to think of myself as "bravely going to the grocery store" when people all over the world are facing unimaginable horrors.<br />
<br />
Yet I think the message I got yesterday was that <b>bravery isn't defined by the immediacy of the risk; </b>what makes someone brave is that<b> they acted according to their values <i>despite their feelings of fear</i>. </b><br />
<br />
I know many heroic single parents. Most of them probably have felt fear and even despair when faced with the task of raising children on their own. Yet they get up every morning and do the right thing all over again. That's courage.<br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>If you think about it, the soldier who saves his fellow soldier in the middle of a firefight or the person who wakes up every day and refuses to let mental illness win are similar. </b>Both of them choose to <i>disbelieve</i> the overwhelming information their brain is screaming at them and the huge chemical dump that makes their bodies shake, their hearts race, their throats close and their chests tighten. Both of them choose to act according to their belief about <b>what is right.</b> The soldier thinks, "It wouldn't be right to leave my buddy to be blown up." The person in the grip of clinical depression thinks, "It wouldn't be right to leave my family grieving for me."<br />
<br />
I could go on to explain how the brain of an anxious person is giving the same signals as a person in physical danger--aka the fight or flight syndrome. But my posts tend to be too long already, so I won't. Another time.<br />
<br />
Friend, <b>if you find yourself stuck between the rock of your principles and the hard place life has driven you into, may I encourage you to cling to the rock? </b>Choose to act according to your beliefs, even if it seems impossibly painful to do so. When I was in the middle of my most recent episode, I couldn't imagine living the next forty years in that kind of mental anguish...and I felt certain that I would always feel that awful. Yet I knew that love was my greatest value; therefore, love for my family--and God--made me choose, over and over again, not to give up. And now I have a new doctor, a new treatment plan, and new hope. I'm SO glad I was brave enough to keep going.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDs6-fubSauhwXHF6euykU84LfIsv-dYSJ1N1AiDxfpmriJsSh7lCoKIt1sFBKOQ-sO1FzO-jybKrFnRgJxw7Pbkf5HrsMGgzYFrPS4m2CJDsbDzRn932_NIq670tYIE_Zt_ZUPx9brW0f/s1600/perfect+love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDs6-fubSauhwXHF6euykU84LfIsv-dYSJ1N1AiDxfpmriJsSh7lCoKIt1sFBKOQ-sO1FzO-jybKrFnRgJxw7Pbkf5HrsMGgzYFrPS4m2CJDsbDzRn932_NIq670tYIE_Zt_ZUPx9brW0f/s320/perfect+love.jpg" width="180" /></a>And that, I realized yesterday, is how perfect love drives out fear. Like so many things on my journey to healing, I'm learning that <b>healing is a process.</b> Perfect love <b>WILL </b>drive out all fear...if I give it time. It may take longer than I always thought that meant...but then eternal time is not the same as human time.<br />
<br />
After all, the verse never said I am supposed to make <b>myself</b> perfect in love, only that "the one who fears is not made perfect in love." My job is to let myself surrender to the "love that made a way," as the song says. All those who make the choice to "show strength in the face of pain or grief"** are courageous in my book. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://s128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/?action=view&current=hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" /></a> <br />
<br />
*I choose to call my recurrences of my depression and anxiety "episodes" instead of relapses or anything that implies going backward or getting worse. In a TV series, each episode has its own plot that is solved by the end but it also fits into a larger dramatic arc of the season and the series as a whole. Finally--and most important to me--episodes are temporary. Once you finish an episode, there is another, different one to experience.<br />
<br />
**Google's #2 definition of courage.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-65584561222997013802016-03-08T11:46:00.000-08:002016-03-08T11:48:17.926-08:00Letter to My Future Self<br />
Dear Future Alison,<br />
<br />
If you are reading this, it means you have hit some turbulence. The oxygen masks haven't fallen down from the ceiling, metaphorically speaking, but the captain has definitely turned on the Fasten Safety Belts sign and your brain is gearing up with anxiety. I don't know what the anxiety is about, but I'm almost certain it's getting worse by the hour as you try not to panic about panicking.<br />
<br />
<br />
The first thing I want to say to you is: <b>Remember that you love your life (mostly). </b>(Yes, you stole that line from <a href="http://momastery.com/blog/" target="_blank">Glennon Melton of Momastery</a>, but it's true for you, too.) You love cuddling with your husband in the mornings and then seeing your son wrapped in blankets on the living room couch and feeling his warm little arms wrap around your neck. You love the conversations you have with your daughter on the way to her school. You love the flexibility of working for your own company so you can bring lunch on birthdays and chaperone field trips. You love your tradition of Saturday morning breakfasts at your family's favorite restaurant. You love helping with homework and bedtime prayers. It's a good life, and it's the real-life embodiment of the life you used to try to imagine before you met your husband.<br />
<br />
Not only do you have a good life, <b>you also have a purpose. </b>You are the best person to love the people who come into your life--the ones who will be in your life forever AND the ones you will only know for a moment. The world would be different without you--it would be poorer, the same way it would be poorer if any of the people around you didn't exist. Try to remember that and treat people with kindness. There are no ordinary people.<br />
<br />
Remember not to make yourself feel bad about feeling bad. It's not helpful, and (your brain needs to hear this) <i>it isn't justified</i>. <b>It's not your fault that you struggle with depression and anxiety.</b> See, along with the good things you inherited from your family, like your dad's empathy and your grandmother's eyebrows, you also inherited the tendency toward mental illness. Many of your family members have struggled with the same thing you deal with. <b>You're not a bad person for feeling this way. </b>Yes, it sucks that you got those particular genes, but remember to be grateful that you didn't also get an abusive family, one who really strives to make you feel worse about yourself.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/80/bc/c4/80bcc400c9c5f87bbe82cf52327b3c56.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Gotta remember this every once in a while: " border="0" class="pinImage rounded" data-load-state="pending" height="400" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/80/bc/c4/80bcc400c9c5f87bbe82cf52327b3c56.jpg" width="375" /></a></div>
Instead, you were born into a loving family who did their best to nurture and support you--which they have done every step of your journey thus far. You also made a smart decision to marry an amazing guy who promised "till death do us part" and he apparently means it.<br />
<br />
Finally, remember that <b>your track record for getting through bad days is 100%. </b>You've survived bad days, weeks, months, and one long difficult year. Maybe your emotions are screaming at you that this is it, the one time you can't make it out of despair...but remember that <b>depression lies.</b><br />
<br />
Hang on, take care of yourself as best you can, and wait for the turbulence to end.<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
One Who Knows<br />
<br />Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-36170117361929572872016-02-23T09:02:00.002-08:002016-02-23T09:02:41.152-08:00All Boy<br />
Dear L,<br />
<br />
Today you turn ten. Double digits! It's a pretty big deal, even though your dad and I have experienced it once before with your sister. But it's just as important an event in your life as it was in hers. We don't know much about parenting, but we know that parenting <i>you</i> is completely different from parenting <i>her</i>. You are your own person, Mr. Man, and we are so happy about that. We wouldn't want it any other way.<br />
<br />
You've always been more happy-go-lucky and chill than C, even as a baby--in true second-born style. However, back then I didn't know that my chubby, laid back baby boy would turn into the kind of boy that people describe as <i>all boy</i>: in motion any time you're not staring at a screen, vibrating with energy and enthusiasm, most of the time at home dribbling or catching or passing some kind of sports ball (that term was a joke; I know the difference between all the different types of sports balls, because you've played most of them.)<br />
<br />
Apparently you are quite the athlete, and nobody is more surprised about that than I am. I'm most definitely not a good athlete, but it turns out I'm <i>excellent</i> at cheering for one, even when I don't totally understand the more obscure rules. Also surprisingly, I have come to see all the good a kid can learn from team sports and how it really can translate into real life applications <i>if</i> the adults involved keep their priorities straight and don't act like their entire existence is validated by whether a group of little kids dominates another group of little kids. Your dad and I have tried to do that: to keep sports in its proper place. We don't love the idea of participation trophies, but it turns out that trophies weren't necessary for your enjoyment of the game. You've instinctively played your hardest, supported your teammates, never threw fits when you lost, listened to your volunteer coaches, and just generally been a great kid whether you won or lost.<br />
<br />
I want you to know I am really proud of you for that.<br />
<br />
You have a quality that will carry you beyond the playing field or court: you are what they call <i>coachable</i>. You have the skills to be a star, but not the temperament. You are a team player. This year, when you played for the first time in the "select" basketball league, in which the coaches can recruit players and teams can stay together for years, your team lost. A lot. (I'm sure I don't have to remind you.) The driven, type A, first-born part of me cringed as it became clear each time a loss was imminent. I hated that you had to lose, when in the church-based, low-key league you used to play for, you were one of the best.<br />
<br />
But you surprised me. Sure, you don't like losing; you have plenty of competitive fire. But apparently when we told you that <i>as long as you try your best, that's all that matters</i>, you believed us. Week after week, I watched you lay it all on the line, whether the free-throw line, baseline, or now even occasionally the three-point line. I saw you carry your team on your back when nobody but you could get a shot to drop, and I saw you pass the ball when a teammate was open. Even though everyone in the stands knew that the kid you passed to was going to take a shot that he couldn't hit. You didn't stop trusting your teammates. You had the right attitude, the one most of us adults who value winning too much needed to learn from.<br />
<br />
I'm so, so proud of you for that.<br />
<br />
It's no shock, then, that you have plenty of friends. Kids say hi to you everywhere we go. You respond--not with the lordly condescension of a jock, a "popular" kid--but a little shyly, dipping your head, while a small smile plays across your lips. Your school matches up older kids with younger ones, creating a "buddy" system. You were assigned two buddies because the younger class is larger. Did you get two for alphabetical reasons, or because your teacher knew you're a good guy to be friends with and a good example for younger boys?<br />
<br />
I think I know the answer to that.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7wwpjhZCO7uJ0uvBlsEbO69wHsQlzsd6HGfblZJsucpapTkq5zl3aPtXAHX7aAtf6H62EI9jVf9EpbnCZxAvTlDBrLdy0URyQ7DKoOSB6fy_absU4OwrXABKrvv0H3iyaZ6boYqnhGQ9D/s1600/IMG_0595.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7wwpjhZCO7uJ0uvBlsEbO69wHsQlzsd6HGfblZJsucpapTkq5zl3aPtXAHX7aAtf6H62EI9jVf9EpbnCZxAvTlDBrLdy0URyQ7DKoOSB6fy_absU4OwrXABKrvv0H3iyaZ6boYqnhGQ9D/s320/IMG_0595.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
When I taught high school, I encountered some excellent teenagers--enough to give me hope that the next generation isn't <i>completely</i> worthless. Certain young men inspired me to say, "I hope my son grows up to be like him." Fortunately, I'd chosen to marry your dad--the best decision I ever made, after my salvation. Son, if you ever wonder what to do in a given situation, ask yourself, "WWJD?" Yes, "What Would Jesus Do?" but also "What Would Justin Do?" Take your dad's advice and follow his example as much as you possibly can. I love to see the two of you together doing Guy Stuff. I've read that men tend to interact by doing things together, with a few words thrown in here and there when absolutely necessary. (Whereas, as you should know from living with me and your sister, women tend to interact by talking. A lot. About everything.) I love that when you ask your dad to throw the football, shoot hoops, or practice chipping, he is glad to do it. Y'all are building a strong relationship that will last for years to come. I hope you grow up to be like him. I see that you are...in your own way.<br />
<br />
People say you look like me. Right now you don't seem to mind hearing that, although if you someday say, "Ugh, I don't look like a girl!" I'll understand. You don't look like a girl. I'm amazed at how genetics interacts with culture. You resemble my childhood photos, yet your features are more boyish than delicate, to my mind. Is it just cultural conditioning that makes me see you as <i>all boy</i>? I don't know. You are, according to everyone, handsome, gorgeous, good-looking, beautiful and altogether too pretty to be a boy. I worry about this. The girls haven't starting chasing you (or else they are chasing you and you're oblivious to it, which is also possible) but they will. Oh, they will. I have visions of picking up your phone and texting back, "This is L's mother. Do not ever send him a picture like that again. I am raising him to be a gentleman who respects women."<br />
<br />
That exact thing may not happen. However, I know you are going to face temptations that didn't present the same way in my generation. I can't shelter you from them, so your dad and I are trying to teach you how to handle them. Son, I pray that you <i>will</i> respect women, even if they aren't behaving in a respectable way. I hope that when an opportunity presents itself to take advantage of a girl, even if she is seemingly willing, that you choose to be the guy who takes her home safely and leaves shortly thereafter. I don't ever want you to cause someone to wonder, "What happened last night?" unless you were a protector and a friend. You would do that for your sister, and I believe you can and will treat all women the same way. Men do not have to be monsters--your father and both grandfathers prove that--so choose to rise above your animal instincts and be a <i>real</i> man, who values and respects women.<br />
<br />
L, you are all the good things about a mama's boy; for example, you love to hug me and let me kiss your cheek. In fact, in fourth grade, you still aren't afraid to hug me in public (I know better than to try the kissing, though.) You still need your mama when you're sick. You don't enjoy reading much, but you are happier to do it when the two of us are ensconced in the king-sized bed with our books. I read out loud to you sometimes just so we can snuggle. (No, I won't do that with all the books just to make it easier for you.) When I walk by the couch where you are watching <strike>your</strike> my iPad, you stretch your arms out from under the blanket and say, "Hug?" I am always, always happy to comply. I will never be too busy to hug you.<br />
<br />
When I started feeling the pangs of realization that someday <i>my children will have lives of their own and I may not see them or even hear from them every day</i>, I sneakily started adding to your bedtime routine, after the prayer. "And you'll always love your mama, right?" I'd ask. "You'll at least text me every day?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
"Yes!" You'd laugh, incredulous at the ideas that you would even <i>need </i>to text me (since you don't have a phone yet), that you would ever leave me, that you would ever grow up. But you will. You are <i>all boy</i> now, but you are on the inevitable path toward becoming a man.<br />
<br />
I'm just thankful that I get to watch and cheer you on. I'll always be your biggest fan.<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
Mom<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Aec2Q54A9hKfmKvPROJU8Dj34l1SqJbcLvfxph_dzypsbZx_YEYcJjllinSdpFzjOYEl4gazh1nmECdvMLwq40Gh0NBhTh5tHkuyFR6YSCypzmy5JfN2HyI-DcgjAdvV4eYudNYNCoga/s1600/IMG_0560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Aec2Q54A9hKfmKvPROJU8Dj34l1SqJbcLvfxph_dzypsbZx_YEYcJjllinSdpFzjOYEl4gazh1nmECdvMLwq40Gh0NBhTh5tHkuyFR6YSCypzmy5JfN2HyI-DcgjAdvV4eYudNYNCoga/s320/IMG_0560.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
P.S. I got to the end of this post without even mentioning how funny you are, how much you make us laugh on a daily basis. But this post is long enough already; I'll save those stories for another day.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-64586157758085067982016-01-01T13:35:00.000-08:002016-01-01T13:44:08.245-08:00Things I Was Grateful for in December...And What I'm Looking Forward To In 2016Happy New Year! Instead of another long philosophical post about goals, resolutions, etc., I decided to share the things I listed in my gratitude journal in December.<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Justin and the kids playing keep-away in the living room.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>The Christmas tree is decorated--and that included buying it!</li>
</ul>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Unexpectedly profound conversations with my daughter.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>No matter how frustrated Justin and I get with my mental illness, there is a bedrock beneath our marriage.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Just ordering some presents online and planning to send the birthday invitations gave me some peace tonight.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>The stunning red-orange color of the Japanese maple outside our front door.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTEfRZCS9RUSt3zB9EeihDh61oRJInf20q34Fjp1MUHW6jXocR6hfspwM8xtqijN5NWzzat08zwnsAhrkqKWiCf2paP_tKehuY5TkjiqmcBKyOq06kL0JHDVj5ASS9blPPERoOW8z24nVF/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTEfRZCS9RUSt3zB9EeihDh61oRJInf20q34Fjp1MUHW6jXocR6hfspwM8xtqijN5NWzzat08zwnsAhrkqKWiCf2paP_tKehuY5TkjiqmcBKyOq06kL0JHDVj5ASS9blPPERoOW8z24nVF/s400/download.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li>The riotous fun of Juck* and L's Nerf gun wars.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<ul>
<li>Word Warp, an app I play obsessively but still cannot get anywhere close to the high score my husband does.</li>
</ul>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Receiving grace and truth from my counselor.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Jenn Martin's book <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Spending-Holidays-People-Punch-Throat/dp/B015NIML0K/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1451678142&sr=8-1&keywords=holidays+punch+throat+audio" target="_blank">Spending the Holidays with People I'd Like to Punch in the Throat</a> </i>on audio. Absolutely hilarious, especially when read with the author's deadpan delivery. Her rant about the Elf on the Shelf is hysterically funny.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Chocolate-covered dried mangoes from Costco. It's worth the membership fee for them alone.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://smile.amazon.com/Balance-Angies-Extreme-Stress-Menders/dp/1508582211/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1451681175&sr=1-2&keywords=angie%27s+stress+mender" target="_blank">My new "adult" coloring book.</a> (Side note: C was disgruntled that they are called <i>adult</i> coloring books when, in fact, people <i>her</i> age like them too. Settle down, I told her, it's a marketing strategy.)</li>
</ul>
<div>
<ul>
<li>The <a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/SarahBethShow" target="_blank">Sara Beth Yoga YouTube channel</a>. She just annoys me less than any other exercise instructor whose videos I've done (and I've done a lot of them), plus I can actually DO the beginner yoga videos, plus she explains what to do so clearly that I don't usually even have to look at the screen. For someone with very little coordination, that last one is HUGE. She's occasionally a little hippie-dippie, but is not too annoying with it.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Chipotle's chicken fajita burrito. Tastes just like I remembered, when I would get one every time I had an OB appointment when I was pregnant with L, because there is a Chipotle near my doctor's office. Didn't matter if it was 10:30 a.m.: I was GETTING my giant burrito. No wonder he weighed almost 9 pounds. </li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>A mom friend who talked me down from the ledge and helped me plan C's 13th birthday party, plus she immediately offered to drive, so I will love her forever and ever, amen.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>C's friends--they're such good kids.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li><i>Almost</i> everything has been bought for Christmas.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>So much cool stuff at Dollar Tree today. (Yes, I lead a glamorous life. Try not to be jealous.)</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>The Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market is <i>so</i> much more sane than the Supercenter. Shopping there has definitely improved my quality of life.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>The kids helped Juck put up the Christmas lights and were actually helpful, which was a first.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Little Caesar's $5 pizzas left over from C's party, which my hormone-riddled self ate too much of. But dang, those garlicky crusts are delicious!</li>
</ul>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Today's peaceful yoga practice followed by 5 minutes of meditation--no crazy brain weasels after 4 days of yoga in a row!</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>The opportunity to give away an American Girl gift card</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Chick-fil-A's Cobb salad...and a few waffle fries. ;-)</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>C's basketball coaches, for encouraging her and teaching her more than just basketball skills.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>All of the kids' teachers--we are blessed to have them teaching our children. May they have a restful break.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>The sausage and ribs our business partner smoked for us until they were fall-apart tender.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Sucking on a Hershey's kiss until it melts away--and then doing it again.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Christmas-scented candles.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Wrapping paper made of brown Kraft paper with red and green huge polka dots on it. I actually bought cute ribbons to tie on the presents and they looked charming.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Cuddling with my husband in the mornings before we have to get up.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>An ice-cold Coke.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>How much easier traveling is now that the kids are older. </li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>How much easier everything is now that the kids are older.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Talking to my three-year-old niece who is SUPER emPHATic with her WORDS.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>A big group playing Apples to Apples Jr. (Apples to Apples is probably my favorite game so I have been waiting for L to be old enough to understand it so I bought it for Christmas and we had so much fun with it.)</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>The family's favorite pastry, made only at Christmas, called butterhorns. My mom says they are also called rugelach. I disagree, because the filling is <i>not </i>the same as the listed rugelach fillings, but they do look the same. </li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVYlHfM1E2ilcDLKq_Nc9onGuADhVNrr4Db56RWk0L7cYat3pSZb45bp-VuuZsyl1GEfn_7mAn2sHRomZL5klbu2ajyUdy-VFU0Qp80XEM5hn6aeypOPfxajFn0Ne253Uhv5FzfbL7oDI/s1600/1280px-Rugelach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVYlHfM1E2ilcDLKq_Nc9onGuADhVNrr4Db56RWk0L7cYat3pSZb45bp-VuuZsyl1GEfn_7mAn2sHRomZL5klbu2ajyUdy-VFU0Qp80XEM5hn6aeypOPfxajFn0Ne253Uhv5FzfbL7oDI/s320/1280px-Rugelach.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
These are divine. Sorry, I promised my late mother-in-law that I wouldn't share the recipe outside the family (really. She shared most recipes but not this one or the other special Christmas treat, called Cherry Bon-Bons.)</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Vastly improved relationships</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>When your kids start getting or making presents for others without being asked to do so.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>A safe trip home through the storms.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Avocados that are already perfect on the day of purchase.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>The Harry Potter books, and the fact that C and I are sharing our experiences with them.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVGHIidhKimX78B_YoYGMejS8XJAG72YnNBYvxLvRrlPpYM6d7-ErdFJxZEeVy_hxYQOqeUPevZhIwguBaj9JVbgStJrn5JnFkX5D60o_lyh7ilvb8dFk1x4piAC4Mip8MQsLwndSFElzG/s1600/51BBTJaU6QL._SY417_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVGHIidhKimX78B_YoYGMejS8XJAG72YnNBYvxLvRrlPpYM6d7-ErdFJxZEeVy_hxYQOqeUPevZhIwguBaj9JVbgStJrn5JnFkX5D60o_lyh7ilvb8dFk1x4piAC4Mip8MQsLwndSFElzG/s400/51BBTJaU6QL._SY417_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li>All the books I get to read or reread in 2016. (To point out just one difference between when I'm in a bad place or a good place mentally: when I'm depressed, I feel defeated by the length of my to-read list because clearly I can never read all of those books, so I will definitely miss out on some amazing books and that means I should just lie here on the couch and beat myself up for not feeling like reading. See the difference? I definitely can feel the difference.)</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>All of the writing I get to do (see above entry).</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>My new Spark planner. I love it!</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Saltine toffee. I could eat my weight in it and I think I almost just did.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>To paraphrase Anne Shirley, it's a brand new year with no mistakes in it.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>The fact that it's okay to make mistakes in this brand new year.</li>
</ul>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
Whew, that turned out to be a longer list than I expected! Congratulations if you made it all the way through--I don't blame you if you skimmed some parts. But I had to include it all because December's list was WAY longer than when I started keeping a gratitude journal, beset by intrusive anxious thoughts but determined to find out for myself what research has conclusively shown: that practicing gratitude is the way to experience a better life. In mid-July, I could barely list one or two items a day...but look at how many things I was grateful for in December!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The good things were always there, of course. I just had to let myself see them and give thanks for them.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oh, and I'm slightly embarrassed that so many of these entries had to do with food. IT WAS DECEMBER, OKAY? I will do better once the saltine toffee is gone. Seriously, that stuff is my crack cocaine. #sorrynotsorry #evenmystretchypantsaretight</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Happy New Year to all you lovely people! My life was enriched by you in 2015. Here's to an excellent 2016!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
*My husband Justin's preferred** nickname is "Juck." Rhymes with Chuck--in fact, people often think that's what was said. His cousins came up with it and I have no idea why unless it's because they're from Louisiana and things are...<i>different</i> down there. This would also explain why he likes it and <i>asks</i> people to call him by it...he likes being different. ;-)</div>
<br />
<br />
**His <i>non-</i>preferred nickname is/was "Justy." Pretty much only his parents still called him that and now they are both gone, maytheyrestinpeace. Whenever his mom's gentle voice called, "Jahhhsssttyy" (that's how she pronounced it; I wish I could have Juck say it for you because he can imitate her <i>exactly</i>) I could only see a blond-headed, freckle-faced little boy with a mischievous glint in his eye.*** That was before I ever saw any childhood pictures of him...and it turns out, that's exactly what he looked like. But "Justy" doesn't command much respect as a business owner. I guess "Juck" does--it's even his email address and it hasn't stopped anyone from buying cabinets from him yet.<br />
<br />
***See? He's the one on the left. (This is the only pic I currently have in digital format of him as a child.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgENKU7xL6Qs029FqA7J4c5einnN09DiQ72RA5o7vca2arWS6zEwZgS3EpTXzwxoaXxL_Suu55UBeK0Jex3X2OhyCvPLgjFunO-vhjr8bTz_7AE34A6-02MT3_h0pQxwLU3G3_bz2KmL6IC/s1600/314568_10151190576843947_267941455_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgENKU7xL6Qs029FqA7J4c5einnN09DiQ72RA5o7vca2arWS6zEwZgS3EpTXzwxoaXxL_Suu55UBeK0Jex3X2OhyCvPLgjFunO-vhjr8bTz_7AE34A6-02MT3_h0pQxwLU3G3_bz2KmL6IC/s320/314568_10151190576843947_267941455_n.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
<a href="http://s128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/?action=view&current=hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" /></a>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-1339101889252596162015-12-29T17:19:00.000-08:002015-12-29T17:19:09.708-08:00Thinking BigI've been wanting to post the next part of my reflections on the past year and goal setting for next year--I already had this written two weeks ago--but y'all know how the two weeks before Christmas are. Super busy, but I wasn't stressed because no papers to grade! No misbehaving students! Woo-hoo!<br />
<br />
Once the kids were out of school on the 18th, we started finalizing gifts and food for our celebration with my family here and Justin's family in Louisiana. It was so fun to see C get excited to give gifts to others; I'll have to post pictures of the gifts she made me and Justin.<br />
<br />
Anyway, this exercise is from Kate Matsudaira, who designed the Spark Notebook and now the Spark Planner. I got mine early in December and started writing in it today. It's gorgeous--see?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih40TBAsY4AivW82ToZXCI2_3IAlra2P_Mizy8K0NxEoXVyhoZwV00PCCye0lUpEdWhaE6oxDA7pWZel8z1-FbTq-zY1zzjdUt025LsVC3LH_OExr_CNEP5ZoSgr5ZnVWQbBoxEl3tI27P/s1600/SparkNB-12_lo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih40TBAsY4AivW82ToZXCI2_3IAlra2P_Mizy8K0NxEoXVyhoZwV00PCCye0lUpEdWhaE6oxDA7pWZel8z1-FbTq-zY1zzjdUt025LsVC3LH_OExr_CNEP5ZoSgr5ZnVWQbBoxEl3tI27P/s400/SparkNB-12_lo.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Kate has been sending out emails to help us think about aligning our yearly goals with what's <i>really</i> important to us.<br />
<br />
I know the whole "What would you want your obituary to say?" idea and may seem trite and overly morbid as well. But I found it incredibly inspiring. The words just poured out of as I considered what I hope people will remember about me. Some of these things are already true for me (I think) and others are aspirations. So without further ado...here is my Thinking Big post.<br />
<br />
<b>MAKE A LIST OF THE PEOPLE IN YOUR LIFE WHO MATTER MOST...</b><br />
<br />
1. Justin<br />
<br />
2. My kids<br />
<br />
3. Mom and Dad<br />
<br />
4. My friends<br />
<br />
6. Extended family<br />
<br />
7. Church family and our pastors<br />
<br />
<b>NOW IMAGINE YOUR FUNERAL...</b><br />
<b>FOR EACH PERSON ON YOUR LIST, MAKE A NOTE OF WHAT YOU HOPE THEY WOULD SAY ABOUT YOU AND YOUR IMPACT ON THEIR LIFE.</b><br />
<br />
1. I hope Justin would say: "Ali was my heart. She felt things so deeply. Even though she fought depression and anxiety, the point is that she FOUGHT them instead of giving in. At times I wanted her to "snap out of it" (it became a joke as she showed me that wasn't always possible). She wouldn't give up, she said, because of me and the kids. She couldn't end it all because she couldn't--wouldn't--do that to us. That was a huge gift and I know it cost her a lot at times.<br />
"She may have had bleak times, but most of the time she loved to laugh, even at my corny puns. She was always learning, always full of information she had read and was dying to share. She adored our kids and was a great mom to them, finding ways to nurture their talents and interests as well as sharing hers with them (for example, reading). She was their biggest fan but she didn't like it when I got upset on the sidelines because she hated conflict. When they disobeyed, she balanced out my sternness by providing a calmer perspective. When we disagreed, she insisted that we "fight it out" instead of letting things fester.<br />
"She never stopped trying to improve. When our marriage struggled, she took responsibility for her part and learned to 'speak' my love language more fluently. She also advocated for her needs when necessary.<br />
"Overall, she never quit loving God, her family, and her friends."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM7Kf_nSiAlCNGyYknX8OG2bNLMtSA-mnbvWnlnBKoLTocFLxqPjlcg0yG12P2tZxhd_hVMSUR3ab0S-VUWuaX711QlK_mUgBV0RvRHLK4-ok5iTo_wbofuMsBiMSNyLTNf6E5H2UykMP5/s1600/IMG_0171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM7Kf_nSiAlCNGyYknX8OG2bNLMtSA-mnbvWnlnBKoLTocFLxqPjlcg0yG12P2tZxhd_hVMSUR3ab0S-VUWuaX711QlK_mUgBV0RvRHLK4-ok5iTo_wbofuMsBiMSNyLTNf6E5H2UykMP5/s400/IMG_0171.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
2. Allowing for their individual experiences and personalities, I hope C and L would say something like:<br />
"Mom was our refuge, a soft place to fall. We could always go to her when something was wrong and know she would listen and validate our feelings. She never told us we didn't or shouldn't feel a certain way. Sometimes she started to give advice before we were ready to hear it or tell us how to handle a situation, but as soon as she realized that, she would back off. As we became teenagers, she would say things like, 'Wow, that sounds tough. What do you think you're going to do about that?' She always believed we could handle our business and we knew she would be our sounding board if we needed to run things past someone first.<br />
"Mom was open about her struggles with mental illness. She believed that 'secrets make us sick' and she didn't want us to grow up knowing something was wrong but not that she (and Dad) were dealing with it. When we were little and saw her crying, she would tell us, 'Mommy's just sad but I am going to get better.' And she did. She set an example for us of someone who had an invisible illness that many people think of as a character flaw, but she chose to be open and vulnerable in her writing and in person so that other people could be helped by her experience.<br />
"Mom wasn't the most obsessive housekeeper, but she was a good cook. She believed that spending time together as a family was more important than anything else except our relationship with God. In fact, she pointed us to God; not only were we at church almost every week, but she served in any way she could, especially as in the prayer ministry. Mom knew how to pray and showed us how by example. When we were little, she would pray for us whenever we were scared or sad or just needed to go to sleep. Even as we got older, we knew she prayed for us every day. Finally, Mom lived her belief that she just wanted two things for us: one, to love the Lord, and two, to find and follow His purpose for our lives."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSWH7b14uyZEo7H89G6-NhZ-eldR_1h9U9CFffbMXen5Sbq3Sywpk2omqwPqe0cxb3_sicuZi7lahZIMsmHGdXA09tF5jBOSj2YMtp6engZcm7eV6qbh2P3shFGnaazCkErLvlv-YEUa37/s1600/IMG_0739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSWH7b14uyZEo7H89G6-NhZ-eldR_1h9U9CFffbMXen5Sbq3Sywpk2omqwPqe0cxb3_sicuZi7lahZIMsmHGdXA09tF5jBOSj2YMtp6engZcm7eV6qbh2P3shFGnaazCkErLvlv-YEUa37/s320/IMG_0739.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4gaC1KvPaHuy3gIM8Ie1cmIABKoiZWRXxywMmgjGV3-ZzDSyV2zcZv6qMSdkzMQ637bHrUNeCLiLFbhmcOnO1H5dqkfKxYnDOr6yiT1QhZ4hDgyTWL7IE9_oFI0fvDxZO2ucV0YBxixXq/s1600/IMG_0752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4gaC1KvPaHuy3gIM8Ie1cmIABKoiZWRXxywMmgjGV3-ZzDSyV2zcZv6qMSdkzMQ637bHrUNeCLiLFbhmcOnO1H5dqkfKxYnDOr6yiT1QhZ4hDgyTWL7IE9_oFI0fvDxZO2ucV0YBxixXq/s320/IMG_0752.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
3. My parents have told me many times now that they are proud of the woman I have become. They are unbelievable parents. They embody everything I hope my kids will say about me in the years to come. They have told me--and proved--that their love and support is unshakable. They've encouraged me in everything I attempted, and sometimes when I wasn't ready to attempt it yet. They affirmed my efforts as a mother, from becoming a stay-at-home mom, to a working mom with a full-time job, to a mom with a part-time job. They have listened and given me invaluable advice ... I will cherish it forever. I wish they would outlive me but not because I died young; I'd love for them to live to 110 at least!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi47sfBztP5tVm-fWQzEHS5wd96gecMQcZoin6ousdUu7Yux1SO-1Jm3ONfGNAa_PVYwigbi3lcK09Xs1wPXZ3JI1USRO_G2XBI2BKyus4TZ1Kk9QYMQmJ3SHgRQLFb9xvcPPWVsNKI-WKR/s1600/Mom+and+Dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi47sfBztP5tVm-fWQzEHS5wd96gecMQcZoin6ousdUu7Yux1SO-1Jm3ONfGNAa_PVYwigbi3lcK09Xs1wPXZ3JI1USRO_G2XBI2BKyus4TZ1Kk9QYMQmJ3SHgRQLFb9xvcPPWVsNKI-WKR/s400/Mom+and+Dad.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
4. I hope my friends and extended family would say something like:<br />
<br />
"Even when life got so hectic that it was hard to connect, Ali was committed to our friendship. I could always call or text her when things were tough and she would drop everything to be with me. She also made time for us to spend together for no real reason, just to hang out. She would send notes or emails or texts or call us to let us know she loved us and specifically why.<br />
"Ali prayed passionately for us when we or our families were struggling, but she didn't lecture us. She knew how to just be there for someone when they are hurting. She always brought something to make us feel better, and it usually involved carbs and chocolate. She would send us funny things to make us smile.<br />
"She was REAL. She was willing to share her struggles, both to ask for help and to help others. She always loved my kids like her own and insisted that I tell her if hers were misbehaving. She believed in dealing with issues instead of pretending they weren't there. At the same time, she was a peacemaker. She didn't like conflict for no reason, but if it was there, she faced it with love so we could move forward."<br />
<br />
5. I hope my pastors would say (speaking for my church family):<br />
<br />
"Alison was a deeply committed member of our church. First of all, she loved Jesus all the way down to her core. Nothing was more important to her than finding and following His heart. Religion and rules were not important to her and were discarded if they interfered with experiencing His grace. She was passionate about her method of witnessing, which she called "not being a jerk." Although it upset her to see Christians acting hatefully, she tried really hard to forgive them, too. She made it a priority to look for the good in people and to be respectful of everyone, no matter what their beliefs. (If they were jerks, see above. However, she learned--rather late in life, because she was a recovering people pleaser--not to suffer fools gladly, but to speak the truth in love.)<br />
"Alison served the local church in some capacity at every point in her life. She did not believe in simply warming a church pew. She was involved in children's ministry, youth ministry, music ministry, small group ministry, benevolence ministry, prayer ministry, and world missions at various times in her life, as the need arose and her gifts were needed. She gave freely of herself and did not demand recognition.<br />
"Alison was a giver. She gave cheerfully of her family's finances, faithfully supporting the kingdom of God with tithes and offering. She chose to give from their gross rather than their net income, because she said she wanted a gross blessing rather than a net blessing. She believed she was blessed to be a blessing, and that she was meant to be a conduit which God's blessings could flow through rather than a reservoir in which they would stagnate. She not only supported the local church's efforts, but also world missions in countries like Haiti and Lithuania. She gave in practical ways when asked, such as supporting a Haitian orphan and loading bags for canned good drives.<br />
"As the daughter of a longtime pastor, Alison was a huge supporter of her pastors and their families. You never heard her criticize them; rather, she prayed for them and their children daily. She often let them know in person or in writing that she loved and appreciated them. She was also voracious in her desire to hear God's Word; she always, always had her notebook for taking notes during a sermon. She showed love to people in the church, going out of her way to welcome visitors and new members. She was a vital part of our church family."<br />
<br />
<br />
And there you have it...what I hope people will say about me when I'm gone. I also made some goals based on these thoughts. I'll come back soon and post my <b>motto for the year </b>and the <b>goals I've set!</b><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<a href="http://s128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/?action=view&current=hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" /></a>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-31041309711389389112015-12-19T08:55:00.003-08:002015-12-19T08:57:23.925-08:00Mini Book Reviews--Fall 2015<b>The book titles are linked to Amazon for your convenience!</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">1. <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Strong-Good-Courage-Devotions-Spiritual/dp/1329034562/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1450541932&sr=8-3&keywords=guzman%2C+leann" target="_blank">Strong and Of Good Courage--31 Devotions on Spiritual Warfare</a> </i>by Leann Guzman.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_P9SO6K3uNvugXwMGWPtMhxycYxF4KZPIg5S9OcnK3XDz-RTml6r0VRVhOkgmFXpVHnhitIaXpEck3fMuVbsSdPDHU-j2-f2gEho_yttldpg6lyn4X-PAaA87aMpk7wZzZsetImTqLAzJ/s1600/41MjWo7lUgL._SX331_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_P9SO6K3uNvugXwMGWPtMhxycYxF4KZPIg5S9OcnK3XDz-RTml6r0VRVhOkgmFXpVHnhitIaXpEck3fMuVbsSdPDHU-j2-f2gEho_yttldpg6lyn4X-PAaA87aMpk7wZzZsetImTqLAzJ/s320/41MjWo7lUgL._SX331_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Full disclosure: this book was written by my <strike>oldest f</strike>1<strike>riend </strike> friend I've known the longest. It's awesome (along with her first book of devotions, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Women-Blessing-Days-Flowing-Favor-ebook/dp/B00O1462SK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1450541932&sr=8-1&keywords=guzman%2C+leann" target="_blank"><i>Women of Blessing: 31 Days of Flowing in the Favor of God</i>). </a>If you are looking for a great devotion to start in 2015, this is an excellent choice. It's not a creepy, mystical approach to spiritual warfare; rather, it's full of wise, practical advice you can begin applying in your prayer life right away. Buy it! It's only $10, so it's a good deal. (I probably should have plugged her book earlier so you could order it for gifts. Oops. You could order it anyway and give the person a printout of your Amazon checkout screen. There.) Five stars.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">2. <span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14.4px; line-height: 1.3;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Smartest-Book-World-Rancorous-Curriculum/dp/1476747040/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1450542222&sr=8-1&keywords=smartest+book" target="_blank">The Smartest Book in the World: A Lexicon of Literacy, A Rancorous Reportage, A Concise Curriculum of Cool</a></span></span><span style="color: #181818;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Smartest-Book-World-Rancorous-Curriculum/dp/1476747040/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1450542222&sr=8-1&keywords=smartest+book" target="_blank">,</a> </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">by Greg Proops</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #181818; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #181818; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">I always liked Greg Proops on "Whose Line Is It Anyway" so I picked this up on impulse at the library. I didn't finish it. For one thing, it has waaaaay too much about baseball for my taste. I'm not a big sports fan in general, although I do enjoy watching a game now and then, but reading about baseball is definitely not my thing. The whole book sounded like he was trying too hard to be clever and likable (a common occurrence with books written by comedians, I've noticed), Also, I have no idea why Facebook kept choosing this book cover as a picture when I linked any post to Facebook. Two stars.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #181818; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #181818; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">3. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Dear-Mr-Knightley-Katherine-Reay/dp/140168968X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1450542525&sr=8-1&keywords=dear+mr.+knightley" target="_blank">Dear Mr. Knightley</a>, by Katherine Reay</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #181818; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #181818;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Well, it's finally happened. I've read a Christian novel that I liked. And that didn't make me cringe (not even once) due to bad writing or heavy-handed approach to Christianity. I loved the allusions to Austen, Charlotte Bronte, Edmond Dantes, and the like. Even though the ending is a little predictable, I can't complain--such is always the case with romances. It was great fun getting to know Sam, the narrator. I'll definitely read Katherine Reay's other books--and it looks like she has several more. Four stars.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #181818;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #181818;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">4. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Coldest-Girl-Coldtown-Holly-Black/dp/0316213098/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1450542705&sr=8-1&keywords=coldest+girl" target="_blank">The Coldest Girl in Coldtown</a>, by Holly Black</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #181818;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: #181818;">I didn't finish <i>The Coldest Girl in Coldtown</i>, but the premise is intriguing and Holly Black is a talented writer. Although the part of it I read is incomparably better than That Other Vampire Novel, part of the reason I stopped is that it's now basically impossible to write an enigmatic vampire hero and make him believable...at least to me. Also, I don't know much about horror, but the first half of the novel had me on edge in a good way, but then when the action began, it didn't live up to the promise. I don't know, you might feel differently, especially if you like supernatural romance/horror.</span></span><br />
Three stars.<br />
<br />
5. Various Discworld novels by Terry Pratchett (<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lords-Ladies-Discworld-Terry-Pratchett/dp/006223739X/ref=tmm_mmp_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1450543304&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Lords and Ladies</a>; <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Carpe-Jugulum-Discworld-Terry-Pratchett/dp/0062280147/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1450543346&sr=8-1&keywords=carpe+jugulum" target="_blank">Carpe Jugulum</a>; <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Monstrous-Regiment-Discworld-Terry-Pratchett/dp/0060013168/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1450543372&sr=8-1&keywords=monstrous+regiment" target="_blank">Monstrous Regiment</a>).<br />
<br />
When I'm anxious and/or depressed, I can read very few things. Terry Pratchett's novels are wonderful whether I'm feeling good or awful. The first two are part of the Witches strand (I can't think of a better word) and the third is mostly a stand-alone book, although Commander Sam Vines of the Ankh-Morpork Watch plays a significant role. His books are always funny yet they are very wise. If you want to try them, you can jump in almost anywhere without fear of being spoiled. But because I am a rigid, inflexible person, I like to read them in order. Here is a handy chart if you are like me (and lucky you, for getting to read these for the first time! I'm going to start buying them in paperback and rereading.) Four-star average.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCBHCVQA5i0guOFQLudhoUUu8nzvwzVo-ZJW7ODI-WpPfGHdhzjIuVl888-zwBq9iPrtkuHxfXg47ekyGH_lsjpoNrrYnOSH9qleCX1e5NYwMuU9EvK1BzKk_NHMB3Po-GB_-w9emGru6/s1600/discworld2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCBHCVQA5i0guOFQLudhoUUu8nzvwzVo-ZJW7ODI-WpPfGHdhzjIuVl888-zwBq9iPrtkuHxfXg47ekyGH_lsjpoNrrYnOSH9qleCX1e5NYwMuU9EvK1BzKk_NHMB3Po-GB_-w9emGru6/s640/discworld2.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click to make bigger, so you can actually read the book titles.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
6.<br />
<h1 class="bookTitle" id="bookTitle" itemprop="name" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 26px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 2px; width: 455px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyW4cxluCl0zRsMk64e9DVb83h9ynWS6qeVEL9AVDefz2Dvcwdm0goHr7LQqpU0bYiGpcR1j4Hnhd9cgRfGRXvbKvRnG8JNAsTDhbjyHXGPTeeo_wwZG_HczAHJ16gJWoLrCGfhxEe_3S5/s1600/51bDz6OKdHL._SX322_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyW4cxluCl0zRsMk64e9DVb83h9ynWS6qeVEL9AVDefz2Dvcwdm0goHr7LQqpU0bYiGpcR1j4Hnhd9cgRfGRXvbKvRnG8JNAsTDhbjyHXGPTeeo_wwZG_HczAHJ16gJWoLrCGfhxEe_3S5/s320/51bDz6OKdHL._SX322_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="207" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Spending-Holidays-People-Punch-Throat/dp/0345549996/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1450543511&sr=8-1&keywords=holidays+punch+throat" target="_blank">Spending the Holidays with People I Want to Punch In the Throat: Yuletide Yahoos, Ho-Ho-Humblebraggers, and Other Seasonal Scourges,</a> by Jen Mann</span></span></h1>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">I actually laughed out loud several times while listening to this audiobook. The laughter was probably helped by listening to the author read it; her deadpan delivery is perfect for her material. I now read her blog. Four stars.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">7. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lake-House-Novel-Kate-Morton/dp/1451649320/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1450543899&sr=8-3&keywords=lake+house" target="_blank">The Lake House</a>, by Kate Morton</span></div>
<div>
<table border="0" cellspacing="1" id="myReview" style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Lato, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px; width: 100%px;"><tbody>
<tr><th style="color: #382110; font-family: Lato, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 10px 0px 0px; vertical-align: top; white-space: nowrap;" valign="top"><br /></th><td colspan="1" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="readable reviewText" style="font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">I couldn't get into it at first, probably because of the multiple points of view and deliberate omission of information to keep the reader in the dark. But I continued, because Morton is a good writer who knows what she's doing. The big reveal felt anticlimactic for me, because it seemed so contrived, but I don't know, YMMV. It was perfectly fine (how's that for damning with faint praise?) Two stars.<br /><br />I'm currently reading <i>Winter Solstice </i>by Rosamund Pilcher and loving it. It's a perfect Christmas book.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<a href="http://s128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/?action=view&current=hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" /></a>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-18829772578833823932015-12-15T12:28:00.000-08:002016-01-02T09:44:19.125-08:00Looking Back: 2015I am so excited that yesterday I received my 2016 planner from Spark Notebook, which I had backed in a Kickstarter campaign. It was already funded so all I had to do was sign up and wait to receive it. I'll talk about the planner another time, but for now I want to focus on the planning sheets that the owner, Kate Matsudaira, is sending out for each week in December so we can reflect on 2015 and look ahead to 2016. Now that I'm out of crisis mode, this is an ideal time to do that. When I started answering the following questions, the answers just poured out of me.<br />
<br />
<b>WHAT WAS THE BEST THING THAT HAPPENED IN THIS YEAR?</b><br />
<br />
I started my new job working for my husband's company instead of teaching school. It was a huge adjustment--once I caught my breath, I realized that with the exception of a couple of years when I stayed home with C, I had been tied to the academic calendar for 35 years (yes, I'm old.) But it was worth it.<br />
<br />
<b>OF ALL YOUR WORK THIS YEAR, WHICH ACCOMPLISHMENT ARE YOU MOST PROUD OF?</b><br />
While my work life was nice and family life is always rewarding, I'm most proud of myself for starting therapy again to dig myself out of my chronic depression and anxiety.<br />
<br />
<b>WHAT WERE YOU DOING WHEN YOU HAD THE MOST FUN?</b><br />
Laughing with my family; spending time with our friend group; relaxing at home alone; tending to chores I didn't have time to do before; listening to audiobooks; reading blogs; writing.<br />
<br />
<b>DID YOU ACHIEVE ALL OF YOUR GOALS? WHY OR WHY NOT?</b><br />
I don't know because I don't remember setting any. I was so desperate just to get out of my stressful job. I successfully did that, so I think I'd say I did okay.<br />
<br />
<b>WHAT ARE 5 THINGS THAT WENT WELL?</b><br />
1. Beginning to work for Village Cupboards. I discovered I am good at office work and organization.<br />
<br />
2. Relationships with my husband, kids, and parents. My kids especially are a source of so much laughter and joy in my life. I'm closer to my parents than I've been in my adult life so far. My husband and I had some conflicts but are coming through them with more empathy and closeness than before.<br />
<br />
3. Blogging (even though I just started back blogging regularly in November). I have written some of the most powerful pieces I've ever written. My heart has broken...but broken open and my vulnerability has taken my writing to a whole new level. I love blogging because I can have a tangible connection with readers and get their input.<br />
<br />
4. Getting to know the parents of my kids' friends. I didn't have much time for that before, unless we already went to church together. They are neat people and I'm glad my circle has expanded.<br />
<br />
5. Therapy. My therapist says she just holds up a "mirror" to me and I process everything out loud while she listens and occasionally summarizes or asks questions when I (finally) get stuck. I've had some life-changing insights.<br />
<br />
<b>WHAT ARE 5 THINGS THAT COULD BE IMPROVED?</b><br />
1. Obviously my chronic depression and anxiety is an ongoing area to target for improvement. Importantly, though, I'm realizing that it doesn't mean I'm a bad person for having these episodes. They are symptoms of an illness I deal with and I am learning to trust myself to manage them instead of freaking out, "It's BACK! THE SKY IS FALLING!"<br />
<br />
2. My relationship with my husband. Our time together as a couple usually gets put on the back burner, and we need to make time for each other.<br />
<br />
3. Working regularly rather than blowing it off just because I can (and once could not). I need to embody being a business owner (since I am a 25% partner).<br />
<br />
4. Making time to spend with friends. I have spent more time with groups of women but not very much one-on-one interaction.<br />
<br />
5. Create opportunities for our family to do fun things together to make memories rather than stare at screens. (I've already got some ideas going for this one; tune in later, as I'm going to blog about it!)<br />
<br />
6. (Which was not on the list, but I just realized I need it.) Exercise. I didn't stay consistent with any certain routine although there were stretches of time when I was a gym regular. I need to make it a routine I will <i>actually do</i> on a regular basis ("No duh, Sherlock," as my 10 year old son is fond of saying.) This means it has to be super easy and so convenient that my excuses are...well, inexcusable.<br />
<br />
I started writing about my new exercise plan, which I actually love and have done 5 out of the last 6 days (I had a sinus headache on Sunday), but then I realized it needs a post of its own.<br />
<br />
Because it's not like it's common to make plans to start exercising in the new year and then bail out. That's never gonna happen to <i>me. *snort*</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://s128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/?action=view&current=hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" /></a>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-58887988977014240152015-12-14T05:07:00.000-08:002015-12-15T05:57:03.084-08:00American Girl Giveaway<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: inherit;"><b>EDITED: </b></span></span><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>I found a little girl who will be so excited (according to her mom) to receive this gift card! She is the little sister of one of C's school friends, and they lost their dad a few years ago. They are such a sweet family; I'm thrilled that I thought of them. </b></span><br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>I told the mom that she could give it from Santa, but she wanted her daughter to know it came from us so she could be thankful and "pay it forward." I told her we were definitely paying it forward since people have blessed us so much in the past. So this morning C and I wrote her a note in a card with a cute glittery polar bear on it and are sending it home with big sister. Love wins!</b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">On Friday I wrote about my first baby turning thirteen. I teared up as I wrote the post off and on throughout the day, again when I was looking at baby pictures, and finally (of course) when I read the post to her. I was rewarded by her giggles at all the right parts, a few "awwwws" and at the end she hurtled into my arms.</span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #990000;"><br /></span></b></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #990000;">A win indeed!</span><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"> </span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But this post isn't about my newly minted teenager--it's about what I would like to do for <b><span style="color: #990000;">another little girl who needs something to make her Christmas special. </span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A few years ago, C was in Girl Scouts. What is the main thing Girl Scouts are known for? That's right, the cookies. Our troop sold approximately a metric ton of cookies, not only to family and friends but also by sitting outside stores and once even a car wash, in the chilly air. A troop receives a (very small--much less than you probably think) amount for every box sold, and this funds their activities for the year, including Girl Scout camp. Our troop leader helped the girls set a goal every year for the dollar amount they'd need to reach to do this, the average number of boxes each girl needed to sell, AND then they'd vote on an awesome trip with the extra money. It was a great motivator. One year we went to Great Wolf Lodge--it was the cheapest trip possible there, what with four to a room and whatnot--and now I never have to darken the door of that godawful place again, thankyouJesus.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Anyway, a few years ago C could not attend the extravagaza, due to a scheduling conflict I can't remember. Oh, that's right, it was a special party for my dad's 65th birthday.The girls had voted to go to the American Girl Doll store and buy everyone a doll and then eat in the cafe. There were at least 25 girls in the troop.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>I TOLD you we sold a ton of cookies. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">C wasn't too bothered to miss this because just on the cusp of being too old for dolls. (The average age of the group skewed younger.) <i>I </i>would've loved to go to the boutique (but Samantha was my favorite, and they stopped making her. I SO should have bought her even though I was an adult with no kids when American Girl dolls came out.)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">C's lovely troop leader didn't just absorb the money C would have spent into the general fund; she bought a gift card and brought it back to her. However, as I said, C didn't care to buy any accessories, let alone another doll, even online. I'm glad, because now I can use the card to do a RAK!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Yes, it's been <i>several</i> years and the gift card has languished in our kitchen junk drawer. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>Until now.</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Here is a photo of the real, actual card that can be used online or in an American Girl doll store. It is loaded with $74.00 American dollars. (I know that is an oddly specific amount, but the rules state that the exact same amount must be spent on each girl.) I've verified that the card is still completely valid and that the money is still available. That should be enough to ALMOST buy a ridiculously overpriced but still very cute doll, or some clothes, or whatever the doll owner wants. My mom once got my daughter and her doll matching PJs and they were very, very cute.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGlDl9HhYmywyZTabcqOgNebZY2WAdZv5kBLbKX_hfgBqDjLSwAvGlFyjVuQYQeRcmLou0tqhx-DjDH7UYimJM0ijTPI6PlReUkV7nnFn3ceFoeozN7izGZrNPegWrlSc7NHsxkzrXLDJH/s1600/IMG_0483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGlDl9HhYmywyZTabcqOgNebZY2WAdZv5kBLbKX_hfgBqDjLSwAvGlFyjVuQYQeRcmLou0tqhx-DjDH7UYimJM0ijTPI6PlReUkV7nnFn3ceFoeozN7izGZrNPegWrlSc7NHsxkzrXLDJH/s400/IMG_0483.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>Here's what C and I want to do.</b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We would like y'all to nominate someone who could REALLY use this gift card to make their child's Christmas special. Not just, "Oh, I could use that because my kids are only getting eleven presents." Or even three, because that's always been my rule (until this year when I went a little nuts on smaller stuff, but that's another post.) </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">No, I want this to go to someone who is truly in need. I want this to go to a mama* who is wondering how she is even going to be able to give her kiddo a nice gift. Whether it's a hardworking single parent or someone who has been hit hard by tough economic times or health problems, I'd like to take away one worry for another parent. It will be worth it to me for them to see their child's excited face when they open a great present. (I'd love to have a picture if possible. Not to put on my blog to congratulate myself, just to show my daughter that Love Wins.)</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Please comment, send me a private message on Facebook, or email me at hairlinefracture at gmail dot com to nominate someone. In the event that I have more than one nominee, I will enter their names in a random drawing for the card. Be sure to leave me a way to contact you if your person wins so that I can mail them the gift card in time to use it for Christmas.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This drawing is open until 9 p.m. Wednesday, December 16 because that's right before C's bedtime and I want her to do the drawing. Why only till Wednesday? Because Christmas is right around the corner!</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><b>I'm sooooo excited now!</b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">*</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Or dad. Dads totally count!</span></span><br />
<a href="http://s128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/?action=view&current=hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i128.photobucket.com/albums/p192/theresamariegoon/Made%20Digital/background%20papers/hairlinefracturesignature.jpg" /></span></a>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-53993620408403251572015-12-13T03:50:00.000-08:002015-12-13T03:55:19.037-08:00Good Deeds...Not a HumblebragOver at <a href="http://byebyepie.typepad.com/" target="_blank">Bye Bye Pie</a>, (a hilarious blog, by the way) June has up a post in which people can list good deeds they are doing for the holidays. (She uses the term "good deeds" on purpose, as the acronym RAoK is super annoying to her, and I agree. It's unpronounceable without sounding like a crow cawing.) The comments describing the good deeds done--it can be major or as small as "I refrained from doing something awful"--is inspiring. Here are mine:<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
1. I donated to a family whose 17-year-old son had to have surgery to remove metal rods from his chest. Fortunately, he is now doing well but as you can imagine, their medical bills are enormous. I don't know any more details (although I morbidly wish I did, because HOW did that happen? Of course, 17 year old boy. 'Nuff said, really.) I learned about them from our medical sharing plan, which we use instead of traditional medical insurance. <a href="http://samaritanministries.org/" target="_blank">Samaritan Ministries</a> assigns a share amount to its members (the amount for a family with three or more people is $405/month) and the situation, name and address of the fellow member who needs the money to pay for their medical expenses. They ask you to send a note of encouragement with your money, which according to the letters from members, are even more cheering than the checks. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This family was not assigned to us (we had a family whose baby was in the NICU for twelve days and is now home). Samaritan publishes "Special Prayer Needs" for those whose medical situation is not publishable, usually due to preexisting conditions. Ethan's surgery took place before they became members, or they would have been eligible. I wrote: "Please tell Ethan the A____ family from Texas is praying for him and believing for his full recovery! Merry Christmas!" </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This family is from Nebraska and we will most likely never meet. But now we are linked because we have prayed for them and given to a fellow believer in need. My children and I prayed for Ethan this week.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
2. Much smaller and less effort: start any of your Amazon.com shopping at <a href="http://smile.amazon.com/">smile.amazon.com</a>. You can designate a charity of your choice and Amazon will donate 0.5% of your purchase to it. Every little bit counts! (I order everything I possibly can for Christmas from Amazon, so my charity will be BANKING in January.) I designated the <a href="http://beyondbluefoundation.org/" target="_blank">Beyond Blue Foundation </a>as my recipient, though there are truly many to choose from. My son's elementary is even on there, although they don't need money as much as some nonprofits do!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
3. <span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>Finally, I'm going to do a special giveaway this week on this blog! Super excited about it...please check back Monday to see it!</b></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What good deeds have you done or are you planning to do?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<img alt="Photobucket" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgiYSX0blGDZSH27Btdz5R8XgaQ8N0AhtxVNSzeCTkOGzt5ohpeTT8dkbVa1zzQvz1cUQxXhZu6FkzC77KaodRsZ02XrO-yvRVh42dgN2-niumab6Z8gNkOXH_G24Ww_gmirZk-yXmEINhYSvCVnXAvriYE54G1wdKdsLX37752MLFoqXp91xZxNemxsRZlN7xHjLoiISuqBPrbakXm-bX43h7TC7jxxhYXx_-r10gFdGyGGDRy1SgivA=" /></div>
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2Fi128.photobucket.com%2Falbums%2Fp192%2Ftheresamariegoon%2FMade%2520Digital%2Fbackground%2520papers%2Fhairlinefracturesignature.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgiYSX0blGDZSH27Btdz5R8XgaQ8N0AhtxVNSzeCTkOGzt5ohpeTT8dkbVa1zzQvz1cUQxXhZu6FkzC77KaodRsZ02XrO-yvRVh42dgN2-niumab6Z8gNkOXH_G24Ww_gmirZk-yXmEINhYSvCVnXAvriYE54G1wdKdsLX37752MLFoqXp91xZxNemxsRZlN7xHjLoiISuqBPrbakXm-bX43h7TC7jxxhYXx_-r10gFdGyGGDRy1SgivA=" --><!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgiYSX0blGDZSH27Btdz5R8XgaQ8N0AhtxVNSzeCTkOGzt5ohpeTT8dkbVa1zzQvz1cUQxXhZu6FkzC77KaodRsZ02XrO-yvRVh42dgN2-niumab6Z8gNkOXH_G24Ww_gmirZk-yXmEINhYSvCVnXAvriYE54G1wdKdsLX37752MLFoqXp91xZxNemxsRZlN7xHjLoiISuqBPrbakXm-bX43h7TC7jxxhYXx_-r10gFdGyGGDRy1SgivA=" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgiYSX0blGDZSH27Btdz5R8XgaQ8N0AhtxVNSzeCTkOGzt5ohpeTT8dkbVa1zzQvz1cUQxXhZu6FkzC77KaodRsZ02XrO-yvRVh42dgN2-niumab6Z8gNkOXH_G24Ww_gmirZk-yXmEINhYSvCVnXAvriYE54G1wdKdsLX37752MLFoqXp91xZxNemxsRZlN7xHjLoiISuqBPrbakXm-bX43h7TC7jxxhYXx_-r10gFdGyGGDRy1SgivA=" -->Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-58138578149046815072015-12-11T20:37:00.001-08:002015-12-11T20:37:48.035-08:00ThirteenDear Girl Child,<br />
<br />
First of all, I feel compelled to emphasize that I am not normally sentimental. You know this, because you inherited this trait from me, along with <strike>an aversion to being touched </strike>strong boundaries about your personal space. I am the person who threw away 90% of the <strike>crap </strike>precious treasures you brought home from school/church/summer camp. I have ONE BOX of baby clothes for each child, and it's not a big box. One scrapbook album for each of your first years--and I worked HARD on those, dang it, because you did NOT inherit your artistic talent from me--and about 5 more for the whole family, and no more although I keep promising myself I'll use that app that makes it so easy. Like everyone else, Facebook is now our family album. It usually takes moms getting to the third child before reaching this level of unsentimentality. (Yes, that's a word. Because I say so, and you still take my word as law when it comes to the English language.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVphEOA62Q3yvkal1m3Jo7Y9Hh4vqSH5v7SsXt1P_kztg6YxW8BGMZ4r6C4i16ARgtZFqT_aYPiUG0XvIv-nPOG9MNMOGA3svxWlt2GQNvOo-Cf-SJYXSnJjz6y3E8JCkGN91HabS4yfVu/s1600/ChloeFunny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVphEOA62Q3yvkal1m3Jo7Y9Hh4vqSH5v7SsXt1P_kztg6YxW8BGMZ4r6C4i16ARgtZFqT_aYPiUG0XvIv-nPOG9MNMOGA3svxWlt2GQNvOo-Cf-SJYXSnJjz6y3E8JCkGN91HabS4yfVu/s320/ChloeFunny.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I am also bad about taking pictures and videos. Now, though, I wish I had more (just LOOK at that greatness above this paragraph. But I have always been better with capturing memories with words than images, so this will have to do.<br />
<br />
First, you should know that you were not only planned, you were AGONIZED over. By me, not your dad. He said we could have a baby whenever I wanted. (Smart man.) He was 27 and I was barely 22 when we got married. I could not imagine being allowed to care for a baby by ourselves. I felt I was still looking around for the grownup in charge and panicking when I realized it was supposed to be me. (Spoiler alert: sometimes I still feel this way.) <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">It took me five years to be ready.</span></b></span><br />
<br />
Five years of being broke while your dad worked his tail off in various forms of physical labor and I went to college and became a middle school teacher (which let's be honest, <strike>probably</strike> definitely extended my timeline of wanting a baby). Five years of wondering if we would ever be able to own a house (I had this fixed idea of needing a YARD before we could procreate, and now I hardly ever venture out into it. Weird.) I started having baby fever but also fretting about being financially responsible. A good friend once said, "If you wait till you can afford a baby, you'll never have one." So true, but I didn't get it. Because I am an external processor, I had to talk this all out. Many times. Usually in bed around midnight.<br />
<br />
Finally one night while I sat up in bed dithering out loud, <strike>the lump of blankets next to me </strike>your dad said, "I think you're being selfish."<br />
<br />
What??? I thought I was being wise and thoughtful of the future because of course I had to be the PERFECT MOM bringing a PERFECT BABY into a PERFECT WORLD we had created.<br />
<br />
AHAHAHAHAA! Excuse me while I gather myself after laughing that hard. I knew NOTHING.<br />
<br />
I made him explain. He said, "I am not getting any younger and I don't want to be too old to play with a kid when we have one."<br />
<br />
Now, you and I both know this would never be the case. He would've wrestled y'all on the floor if he'd been Abraham and I were Sarah; he's just a huge kid at heart. But he totally called me on my selfishness and made me realize that I was waiting for ME, not for him--and certainly not for our baby. Because I wanted to see myself as a perfect mom. He made me see that the perfect time to have a perfect baby was never going to happen.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Except...it totally did.</span></b><br />
<br />
I can't explain how except...God, but once I meekly said, "Okay, I'll make an appointment with my doctor to see what I need to do to start trying," everything fell into place. A house we could afford magically fell into our lap. We stopped thinking about getting pregnant and...boom. Six weeks later, we were frantically remodeling our new/old house so we could move into it by the time our lease was up and I realized I miiiiight be pregnant.<br />
<br />
There have never been a longer three minutes than the time we spent waiting to look at that pregnancy test. And there has never been a shorter amount of time between that discovering one is pregnant and quitting all remodeling duties. (Hey, that 1970s paint we were sanding off the walls had LEAD in it! I was probably saving you from having three arms or something! Your dad disagrees, but whatever, he didn't have to be pregnant for the next nine months.)<br />
<br />
You made pregnancy so easy. I was only sick one time (On The Border, you are still dead to me). We decided not to find out your gender, much to Mawmaw Sher's dismay, since she was champing at the bit to buy adorable baby clothes. (As her post today admits, she secretly prayed for a baby girl with red hair. God apparently listens to grandmothers who have waited mostly patiently for five years for a grandbaby.) The doctor didn't have your sex written in the chart so she wouldn't accidentally say "he" or "she." She was so excited because almost no one chooses to be surprised in the delivery room these days. I still can't believe we waited. (To be honest, on my part it was mostly because I knew I didn't want to decorate a nursery twice and Classic Pooh would be gender-neutral. Gah, I was so sick of Pooh by the time your brother left babyhood.)<br />
<br />
Anyway, you also made it easy on me by making it very clear when it was time to go to the hospital. I had been hoping my water would break because the otherwise basically useless childbirth class taught me that if your water breaks, you go to the hospital, do not stop, do not pass Go and most certainly do not collect $200. There was a couple in that class who were there preparing for the birth of their SECOND baby. I know, whaaaaatttt? They were so young and ignorant for the first child's impending arrival that she DIDN'T KNOW SHE WAS IN LABOR and had the baby at home by accident.<br />
<br />
I cannot emphasize enough how much I DID NOT WANT that outcome. I had known since the age of about ten, when your Mawmaw told me I was born painlessly after a magical thing called an epidural that I wanted one when the time came.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Me + pain = NOPENOPENOPE.</span></b><br />
<br />
But I had a certain amount of it after my water broke. I am sorry, I know this will gross you out when you hear it, but I didn't know exactly HOW MUCH water we were talking about. Not the modest cup or so I imagined. I sent your dad back into the house for a towel to protect the car seat "just in case" and he brought back a hand towel. Not sufficient, it turned out. I walked into the hospital with my dress dripping and the nurse joked about me messing up the floor.<br />
<br />
It was all very funny but at least there was no question they would admit me because my water had broken. Well, it was funny from 2 a.m., when I arrived, until about 6 a.m., when I tired of walking the halls in a hospital gown, pushing an IV pole, to get my labor going. After that I lay in a bed and stared at a "focal point" the labor class had taught me to choose and thought, "This crap is getting REAL. I don't think I can DO this much longer."<br />
<br />
Luckily, without me even asking, the doctor said I could get an epidural so they could speed my labor up, and I swear, I would've<i> kissed</i> the anesthesiologist if he'd still been in the room when the epidural kicked in. Things got much better after that. The next thing I remember, the doctor and nurse were so excited about seeing whether you were a boy or a girl. You were born, I listened for your healthy cry, they put you in my arms.<br />
<br />
And there you were: 7 pounds 11 ounces, 19 1/2 inches long, blue eyes and strawberry blonde <strike>hair </strike>fuzz.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">You were my perfect baby. And I had nothing to do with making anything perfect about you or for you. You were just perfect.</span></b><br />
<br />
I don't mean you were not hard work (I'm still traumatized by the sleep deprivation you put me through.) I hope I have communicated over the past thirteen years that you are perfect just the way you are--that is, I mean that you are LOVED just the way you are, and that you will never have to earn my love in any way whatsoever. You guaranteed that the moment I surrendered to the idea of having a baby. That's why I was so scared, by the way. I was afraid of not having control. Well, motherhood is one long roller coaster ride of realizing over and over again that you have no control over all the things you fear the most. Actually, the one thing you fear the most is losing your child: to illness, accidents, death, or even estrangement. The thought of not seeing your face every day or at least hearing your voice scrunches my heart up until I think I might not be able to breathe. That started the day you lay in my arms, a baby burrito, and I realized, as the saying goes, that my heart would now forever walk around outside my body.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Out of all the girls in all the world, how did we get the very best one?</span></b><br />
<br />
You have brought nothing but joy into our lives. (At least, that we remember. Your brother can thank his existence for our short-term memory loss.) You were bright-eyed and curious from Day One. I had never seen a week-old baby hold her head up so long; I swear it was so you could look around at people. You wanted to be held constantly but hated the front-facing carrier...and the baby swing...so I held you most of the time. Thank God you deigned to be placed in your bouncy seat for up to 15 minutes at a time--or 25 if I put on a Baby Einstein DVD--so I could gulp down lunch. Showering? Not possible till your dad got home. Some days he asked what I'd done that day and I had to think before answering, "I brushed my teeth." Oh yeah, and kept a human infant alive. Did I mention I'd never even BABYSAT a child under the age of 5 before you came into my world? I'm pretty freaking proud of myself for not accidentally sitting on you. We'd go to bed at night and I'd say, "Well, we kept her alive another day."<br />
<br />
Until you woke up two hours later having the audacity to want to EAT, which, well, I am not proud of my attitude after about two weeks. <b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Let's just say there's a reason God doesn't let children remember anything about their first year.</span></b><br />
<br />
Sweet girl, your mama wants you to know I'd fight a lion or a bear or any man on God's green earth to protect you. I have tried my very hardest to nurture you but not allow my anxieties to limit you. When you fearlessly wanted to do something that scared me--like jump off the couch, climb the backyard fence, or attend kindergarten without me sitting beside you holding your hand all day--I closed my mouth that had been open to scream, "Nooooooo" in slow motion like on TV. I swallowed, put a big smile on my face, and said, "Sure you can!"<br />
<br />
(There was this picture book called <i>Little Quack</i> that really helped. I channeled Mama Duck: "Come on, little duck," said Mama, "I know you can do it!" Good Lord, did I really just pull that dialogue out of my ancient withered brain?)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijyGUl6ha7d2dYSvNuYmJEF2yyu6PG-eykZACl1SIOTzeNX0LO6_1adBR0fY72VrTR6-KIk9zExBrJ2PNN6_rEPIyit43A-54yqZTzCbk0e1tVISrOK9p-7TYey6qWWQReDfICZnILpeYy/s1600/little+quack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijyGUl6ha7d2dYSvNuYmJEF2yyu6PG-eykZACl1SIOTzeNX0LO6_1adBR0fY72VrTR6-KIk9zExBrJ2PNN6_rEPIyit43A-54yqZTzCbk0e1tVISrOK9p-7TYey6qWWQReDfICZnILpeYy/s1600/little+quack.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
And the thing is, you <i>have</i> done it all. Everything I doubted turned out to be a lie. You proved every fear wrong. You fulfilled dreams I didn't know how to dream. You taught me how to parent you. I am only grateful that I had the sense to get out of your way when necessary.<br />
<br />
I believe in you. As our favorite Doctor (Ten forever!) said about Rose Tyler:<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">"But if I believe in one thing... just one thing... I believe in her!"</span></b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVTsd6tNJHQIpGHi3WSSp03ovf-TLVuzx4Njv-IoyAvatqa7Xzw0xrXhXPCsokgJhvhCqRepeMoMEVVXeOF4On_L9CFFR0zxhmt9veJ_jJ4U4d4eQTWd9S6Ja8DOJrg6CrjN6khyphenhyphenTDDXOF/s1600/tenandrose.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVTsd6tNJHQIpGHi3WSSp03ovf-TLVuzx4Njv-IoyAvatqa7Xzw0xrXhXPCsokgJhvhCqRepeMoMEVVXeOF4On_L9CFFR0zxhmt9veJ_jJ4U4d4eQTWd9S6Ja8DOJrg6CrjN6khyphenhyphenTDDXOF/s400/tenandrose.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
And I believe in your dad, who convinced me to risk becoming an imperfect parent, which meant that I became fully human<span id="goog_537156024"></span><span id="goog_537156025"></span>. I believe in the God who was merely waiting for me to take a leap of faith. Finally, I believe in the love that was born in me the moment I heard your speedy little heartbeat on that first doctor visit. My precious girl, I wouldn't trade anything on this planet for the last thirteen years I have been privileged to be your mother.<br />
<br />
Now, in one week school will be out and I demand some mother-daughter time in which we will read <i>Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince</i> and talk about it, catch up with the Twelfth Doctor, practice with your newly-allowed makeup (I predict you are already better with it than I am, so please teach me your ways), agree about all the ways that seventh-grade boys are idiots, and just generally have a lazy old fun time in our pajamas together. I think you'll agree you owe me that much just from the story above.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">With all my love,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Mom</span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEwBnKNCnGP03IP_FouYcC0KdEm9vQ3EUIPEXXEMsRztkAbU778wlb5ZJrSDFtAw7kZN_TJHjpvhBLuT1Soyrl4Xa8y6CHUoNDG6g3lNg28WkdFC-WEs-TfKxF2USMosWwq5-8GCEt1B-g/s1600/chloebday1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEwBnKNCnGP03IP_FouYcC0KdEm9vQ3EUIPEXXEMsRztkAbU778wlb5ZJrSDFtAw7kZN_TJHjpvhBLuT1Soyrl4Xa8y6CHUoNDG6g3lNg28WkdFC-WEs-TfKxF2USMosWwq5-8GCEt1B-g/s320/chloebday1.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></b></div>
Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-51118590824192234552015-12-09T06:53:00.000-08:002015-12-09T06:53:22.513-08:00Hello...It's Me (Oh Crap, Now I Have That Already-Overplayed Adele Song Stuck In My Head)<span style="font-size: small;">Well, hey there. I feel a little awkward, expecting you to read this post like I didn't just jump ship and stop posting for...for however long it was. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">But then I remember that when a blogger I like reading stops posting for whatever reason, I'm not bothered by it. I think, "Awww, she's just too busy with real life right now." I wish her well and then when she posts again, I'm happy to see her pop up in my feed reader again. I don't require a tedious explanation. So I'm going to assume that anyone reading this doesn't need one either. At some point, I'll probably write about my weird relationship with social media, but not today. Today is a day for bullet points, to make it easier to catch up.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">It's basketball season, and both kids are playing at a whole 'nother level--my daughter in middle school, my son in "select." Both require some more time than in the past, but it's not insane. My daughter practices before school and has one game a week, usually on Thursday nights. My son has two evening practices (up from one last year) and a game on Saturdays. None of his games are before 11 am, praise the Lord. Still, it's made dinners at home challenging when this week we have something during our normal dinner hour for 4 days straight. I'm not gonna lie, I cooked an actual dinner Monday night, chopped up brisket for BBQ sandwiches last night, bought the good deli meat, and forced myself not to feel guilty about it. They are now capable of making their own sandwiches. Hallelujah.</span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">Friday is C's 13th birthday. She invited her school friends and church friends, and of those, it looks like 9 or 10 are coming. Last week I called one of those friend's moms hyperventilating because I couldn't make a decision on how to organize things other than C had (finally) decided to go to a trampoline park. My friend is a school counselor, so she's very calm, and also happens to be very organized. She helped me decide to have pizza and cake here, determine the timetable, then offered to help drive. She is a lifesaver and now I am not even worried <span style="font-size: x-small;">mostly<span style="font-size: small;">. </span></span></span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm about to have a TEENAGER. Ack! How did that happen? Seriously, she is so much fun to talk to right now. No one is allowed to tell me it gets worse. I KNOW. (I taught high school for six years, remember?) Let me enjoy it now although it may be the calm before the storm. </span></span></span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Last night I couldn't sleep, so I got up and edited some writing for a friend, and then read <i>Garner's Modern American Usage</i>. It's a book on grammar. I am the nerdiest nerd ever. The thing is, he throws in some really funny (to a grammar nerd) comments. I'm just going to stop now.</span></span></span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">This week I pulled the trigger and ordered probably 90% of the Christmas presents. There are a couple that need to be bought in person, and some stocking stuffers. We'll be with my husband's sister and their family this year, so I just have the main things shipped there instead of filling up my car.</span></span></span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I WAS going to buy brown craft wrapping paper and use coordinating ribbon I got at Target and possibly make gift tags, but then I decided although that might be simplifying for some people, it would be a step UP for me and all the articles say to reduce your stress during the holidays, don't do anything unnecessary. So...dollar store gift bags it is again, with my husband wrapping a few boxes. Since he's a carpenter, his wrapping game is STRONG. I hand him the scissors and tape, put other gifts in bags, and write on the tags. We all have our strengths.</span></span></span></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> And how are all of YOU?</span></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-75122432915579761992015-11-24T10:39:00.004-08:002015-11-24T10:39:48.448-08:00It appears I was a little too ambitious to take on blogging every day. Taking a break for the holidays and I'll be back!Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-37526403758336635772015-11-21T20:06:00.000-08:002015-11-21T20:06:04.729-08:00Lazy Too tired to write again. Or rather, I procrastinated until I was too tired. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
More to come later...</div>
Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-84811545029817056892015-11-20T20:14:00.000-08:002015-11-20T20:15:18.044-08:00A day late for Throwback ThursdayI am tired. I still like blogging every day, just don't have the energy today. Earlier today my friend Nicole was posting baby pictures of her sons and it made me nostalgic. I don't have any real baby pics handy, but look at these pictures. It was a superhero-art project kind of day.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuQhtw7kMoHVX5dLLy-2GNnJvJZnVUjzpvBsRInOaVJXeKVPZ0Jr06gj95tVytOve-gL9V_wkp35bBxvYMQqy2_55rwb7Qy2y8Ri_vYhw2xOGT6zJqxk4LtYdkJzxjzlnxZJZRXtK23eKi/s1600/DSC00805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuQhtw7kMoHVX5dLLy-2GNnJvJZnVUjzpvBsRInOaVJXeKVPZ0Jr06gj95tVytOve-gL9V_wkp35bBxvYMQqy2_55rwb7Qy2y8Ri_vYhw2xOGT6zJqxk4LtYdkJzxjzlnxZJZRXtK23eKi/s320/DSC00805.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi25s87vbL2x_Bi9nx6dpjGnjvwHEjVrotmO6IANKuNIE4lEZnh0D-E-CPolS-LcSwHUjr1uygPJFDCgIBGv9NW_sLh8hbJEZw8Dk6atnjHAYXvdZHZANYvm1w5ChFNPp-f7HFjU-1B0MKj/s1600/DSC00807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi25s87vbL2x_Bi9nx6dpjGnjvwHEjVrotmO6IANKuNIE4lEZnh0D-E-CPolS-LcSwHUjr1uygPJFDCgIBGv9NW_sLh8hbJEZw8Dk6atnjHAYXvdZHZANYvm1w5ChFNPp-f7HFjU-1B0MKj/s320/DSC00807.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLY_qxKBvf1I2Ge0_wsnChzyIoti4J19swOYOuF3T8PheYZRVz1HysazqFqAyIajUgoA9HJo2kPtfiuqdn5ec_fMl0LTp-R1IH7X40SrDxyWZTuWJo3dCisT-lQzpHvwRJVeSKlBl_w72/s1600/DSC00808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLY_qxKBvf1I2Ge0_wsnChzyIoti4J19swOYOuF3T8PheYZRVz1HysazqFqAyIajUgoA9HJo2kPtfiuqdn5ec_fMl0LTp-R1IH7X40SrDxyWZTuWJo3dCisT-lQzpHvwRJVeSKlBl_w72/s320/DSC00808.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
L's cheeks! C's glasses! Goodness, I love these two. </div>
Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-51657315579384537392015-11-19T09:32:00.000-08:002015-11-19T09:32:14.971-08:00BusyIt was a good thing I had a post scheduled yesterday, because it turned out to be a busy afternoon. I picked up both kids, made dinner, and then suddenly realized L and I needed to leave in 10 minutes for his first basketball practice. There was no time to eat the stew first so I had him take a snack in the car; and, since he is a 4th-grade boy, he had no trouble downing some peanut butter crackers.<br />
<br />
Justin got home right before we left. While he got ready for church, C finished her homework, ate dinner (she didn't want the stew and I was not up to putting the parental foot down, but she mentioned a healthy combination of foods she wanted to eat, so whatever) and got ready to go to church with him. I'm glad I have a super-responsible firstborn; it does make life easier.<br />
<br />
After L's practice we didn't have time to go to church (besides, I'm sure they would not have appreciated me bringing him in such a sweaty state). He had a coupon for a free small Slurpee from 7-11, so we got that, went home to eat stew, and then I went to Office Depot to print a picture for C's language arts project. Luckily it's only around the corner, because I wasted a trip. I hadn't realized it was a picture of a book cover and therefore subject to copyright restrictions. They had emailed me after I emailed them the picture, but I hadn't checked my email. Lessons learned.<br />
<br />
It was my fault anyway, since I had decided not to go to the shop today, which is where we print things. C wasn't upset; she decided to do without it and get the project turned in early. (Her freehand drawings are impressive enough, in her mother's totally unbiased opinion. I'll have to take a picture when she gets it back; it's an ABC book with words describing the book she'd read.) She's had a busy week, with tests and projects plus her regular homework, because the teachers are trying to get everything done before the break. She's looking forward to a well-deserved holiday: a week of relaxing!<br />
<br />
I went back to the house and did some reading with L. He is enjoying reading more, and taking on more challenging books. His class has named him "Mr. Vocabulary" because he is so quick to point out words they are learning (the teacher encourages him to do this, and he jumped at the challenge.) He's always loved math the most, so it's cool to see him taking after me in some way.<br />
<br />
Justin and C didn't get home till about 9:20 since the choir (they practice on certain Wednesdays) had to learn about the new sound system. I'm sure she enjoyed the extra time to talk to her friends. But neither kid complained about going to bed: an unexpected benefit of sports! L is definitely not used to being that active in the evenings, so he was tired. After Thanksgiving, his team will have two practices a week, and one is on Thursday nights--and C's games are on Thursdays. So: Justin and I will take turns with each kid. His games are on Saturdays, but luckily she only has one more Saturday tournament.<br />
<br />
It makes me very thankful that I have a more flexible schedule now. And that's the news from our house. <br />
Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-21172539065501996472015-11-18T10:28:00.000-08:002015-11-18T10:28:30.744-08:00YellowTuesday began with rain (after storming all night), the kind of day on which you'd like to stay in comfy clothes and curl up on the couch. But I had worked from home (and relaxed some, too) the day before, and so I had to get dressed in real-world clothes and drive to work. (I had intended to go to the gym, but a gloomy, rainy day is not a good time to resume a habit I'd just as soon not have to resume. So I did some stretches, took a shower, and called it good.)<br />
<br />
I decided to wear my plaid top from <a href="http://hairlinefracture.blogspot.com/2015/09/stitch-fix-2-but-my-first-review.html" target="_blank">this Stitch Fix</a>. I love the fall colors in it, but it's still light enough that I don't get too warm. Today I wore white stretch jeans and brown knee-high boots, because that is a thing that is now done: wearing white pants with "transitional" items is okay for fall. If Audrey from <a href="http://www.puttingmetogether.com/2014/02/make-it-pop-with-white-jeans.html" target="_blank">Putting Me Together</a> (my favorite real-world style blog) does it, then it's fine by me.<br />
<br />
The outfit needed something, though, so I pulled out a necklace made of wooden yellow beads. I liked the look. The cheerful color was exactly what I needed on a rainy day. See:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5aGPCuHuS2weQ-L6bP1GUIveGqtFaHdiAIF_HV-x7zZGY01Fupq_UahMD-d-dSHQL-qrX637dvEPk3CXM3nv35-YqOj-Qmrwf7ziiYFPS5ODNlCcMjw5KoBfCyW5zv2hekdqNeL6h36et/s1600/Yellownecklace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5aGPCuHuS2weQ-L6bP1GUIveGqtFaHdiAIF_HV-x7zZGY01Fupq_UahMD-d-dSHQL-qrX637dvEPk3CXM3nv35-YqOj-Qmrwf7ziiYFPS5ODNlCcMjw5KoBfCyW5zv2hekdqNeL6h36et/s320/Yellownecklace.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oops, it was crooked.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
For some reason I started thinking about the origin of this necklace. I bought it secondhand, from a woman I barely knew. Her daughter joined the Girl Scout troop my daughter had belonged to for several years; this mom and her kids attended meetings for around a year before the family moved away, but our daughters weren't in the same age group. That was one reason we didn't get to know each other.<br />
<br />
The other reason is that I didn't like her very much. She wasn't friendly. She spent the whole time thumbing her phone or talking with one other mom. Her name was literally Pollyanna and she was blonde. (I never liked those sappy books or the Hayley Mills movie and I guess she didn't either, because she went by Polly.) If you talked to her for any length of time, she would be sure to mention her master's degree.<br />
<br />
Perhaps most telling, I didn't like her because even though she had many children (four? five? See, I can't even keep up with them--how did she?) and a demanding job, she always looked poised and put together. I have fewer children and I never feel polished, at least not like that. She knew what looked good on her, and she wore this color of yellow quite a bit.<br />
<br />
I may not have wanted to be friends with her, but when she mentioned to the group that she was selling some clothes before they moved, I said sure, I'd like to look at them. We were about the same size and I knew they'd be good quality (read: originally expensive). She brought a huge pile of clothes to the next meeting and I looked through them, selecting quite a few things because she was selling them so cheap.<br />
<br />
"Where are you moving?" I asked, making small talk. <br />
<br />
Then she told me they were moving to China to become missionaries. That's why she was selling the clothes--because she couldn't take them all with her.<br />
<br />
You could have knocked me over with a feather. That really was the last thing I expected from this sleek, affluent woman with the Louis Vuitton bag (which presumably she <i>was</i> taking with her because she definitely didn't offer to sell it to me).<br />
<br />
I thought how brave they were to take such a huge step, with four or five young children in tow (seriously, it is bugging me that I can't remember how many there were. These are the useless details I get fixated on.) They had been preparing for over a year, studying the language. Now the time had come to make the move to a place on the other side of the world.<br />
<br />
It was brave, and optimistic. To move to a foreign country and believe that everything would work out and the challenges would be worth it. I didn't know any of this; but I could have, if I had gotten to know her before her last week in the USA.<br />
<br />
I've since donated most of the clothes, but this necklace has stayed with me. I wear it when I need to be reminded of sunshine, and that we could all use a little of a Pollyanna perspective.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-37058015955005008322015-11-17T05:17:00.000-08:002015-11-17T05:17:59.071-08:00What to do after the end of the world<i>I'm writing this on Monday evening. Until now, I've had no trouble thinking of topics to write about. I still have a few ideas, but I'm tired and sad because the world is awful and it took almost no time at all to politicize a tragedy. So the best I can do is share the words of the amazing writer <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AnneLamott/?fref=ts" target="_blank">Anne Lamott</a>, which she posted on her Facebook page soon after the news of the attacks on Paris. (This was a time when FB was NOT "of the devil," as I like to joke.) She offers no pat answers but some comfort and hope.</i><br />
<br />
<i>For now, I can hold on to these small glimmers of hope. And I'm making an apple crisp for dessert--</i><br />
<i>which I almost never do--that we can eat with ice cream because sometimes comfort food is in order. </i><br />
<br />
I wish there was a website we could turn to called, "What it means,
What is True, and What to do." Lots of very tense religious people are
going to insist that their Scripture answers all these questions.<br />
<br />
That's nice.<br />
<br />
Lots of them will try to hustle us into joining them in Vengeance World. As that had just been so helpful before, right?<br />
<br />
So where do we even begin today? What do we do when it feels like we
are all doomed, and the future will only be worse, and we can't remember
anything that ever helped us come through? From high school
philosophy, I remember that Francis Bacon wrote, "'What is Truth?' asked
jesting Pilate, and would not stay for an answer." It seemed the
ultimate truth, at sixteen years old.<br />
<br />
But I think we can do
better than that. We have shards of truth, and we can gather them up,
bits of broken mosaic tile that shine.<br />
<br />
We know that this is a very dangerous place, that we are an extremely vulnerable species, that Cain is still killing Abel.<br />
<br />
We know that "Why" is not a useful question; and "Figure it out" is not a good slogan.<br />
<br />
We know that the poor, the innocent, babies and the very old, always bear the brunt.<br />
<br />
So where do we find grace and light? If you mean right now, the answer
is Nowhere. It's like after a child dies. Grace always does bat last,
and the light always overcomes the darkness--always, historically. But
not necessarily later the same day, or tomorrow, after lunch. Wendell
Berry told me 25 years ago, in Advent, the darkest shortest days of
winter, "It gets darker and darker and darker, and then Jesus is born."
But it is only November 13! It gets even darker.<br />
<br />
What is the
answer? Gandhi is almost always the answer. Jesus's love for the poor
and refugees is the answer. Adding a bit of light and warmth to these
cold dark days doesn't hurt. Candles are beautiful and bring a soupçon
of solace to our souls. People living on the streets could really use
your old blankets and jackets.<br />
<br />
Grace will always show up in the
helpers, as Mr. Rogers' mother used to tell him in times of tragedy.
But today, right now, if you have a nice bumper sticker that explains or
makes sense of what happens in Paris, it's probably best if you keep
that to yourself. It is definitely best that you not share it with me.
It will cause me to get a tic in my eye and will guarantee that the
next time I see you, I will run for my cute little life. Everyone in his
or her right mind will. So how do we even know truth, in the midst of
b.s. and lies?<br />
<br />
What is true for me is that the shootings at Sandy
Hook were the actual end of the world, evil or at least the most
extreme mental illness made visible. There were no answers that day,
the next day, the day after that. Well, you could go to certain web
sites and Twitter posts, and I will not name names, and be told how
stupid you were not to see that there was only one appreciate truth.
Reload! But again, that was not helpful. What was helpful was that we
stuck together in our horror, grief, anxiety and cluelessness. We
grieved, we feared, we despaired, and raged, prayed; we reached out for
any help at all; and these were appropriate responses. I am going to
recommend that we do that today, and tomorrow. Wounds and trauma
revealed were healed; eventually. Some of us couldn't eat at all,
someone of us binged, some of us couldn't turn off the TV, some of us
couldn't turn it on. Those were all appropriate. We felt like shit,
and let some time pass, talked and stuck together. And day by day, we
came through.<br />
<br />
Talking and sticking together was the answer. It
honest to God was. We were gentler, more patient and kind with each
other. If people are patient and kind, that's a lot. It means
something of the spirit is at work. For me, that is grace made visible.
It doesn't come immediately, and it doesn't come naturally. What comes
naturally is, Shoot the mo-fos. So when we could, after Sandy Hook, we
paused, breathed, sighed, gasped at the rising numbers. Nothing changed
legally, not one word, but we came through. Hearts were healed,
imperfectly. People walked, lived fully, and even danced again, after
bad psychic fractures that did not heal quite right, and that still hurt
some days.<br />
<br />
We will again, but it takes time. I so hate this!
Hate this, hate this, hate this, and do not agree to this, but have no
alternative, because it is Truth: it will take time. Today, we try to
keep the patient comfortable--ourselves, our beloved, the poor.<br />
<br />
We're at the beginning of human and personal evolution. Whole parts of the world don't even think women are people.<br />
<br />
So after an appropriate time of being stunned, in despair, we show up.
Maybe we ask God for help. We do the next right thing. We buy or cook
a bunch of food for the local homeless. We return phone calls, library
books, smiles. We make eye contact with others, and we go to the
market and flirt with old or scary unusual people who seem lonely. This
is a blessed sacrament. Tom Weston taught me decades ago that in the
face of human tragedy, we go around the neighborhood and pick up litter,
even though there will be more tomorrow. It is another blessed
sacraments. We take the action and the insight will follow: that we are
basically powerless, but we are not helpless.<br />
<br />
I have no
answers but know one last thing that is true: More will be revealed.
And that what is true is that all is change. Things are much wilder,
weirder, richer, and more profound than I am comfortable with. The
paradox is that in the reality of this, we discover that in the smallest
moments of amazement, at our own crabby stamina, at kindness, to lonely
people who worry us, and attention, at weeping willow turning from
green to gold to red, and amazement, we will be saved.<br />
<br />
<i>P.S. The apple crisp was delicious and it made my family happy. And I bought extra nonperishables to donate to the food drive at L's school. And I contacted a friend who's grieving a death and made plans to get together.</i><br />
<br />
<i>One small gesture at a time to combat despair. One candle at a time to light the darkness. </i> Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-55283475891108273052015-11-15T19:44:00.002-08:002015-11-16T13:22:37.590-08:00Stitch Fix #3 ReviewHey everybody! My third Stitch Fix came on Friday and I am so excited to show you what I got. As one of my friends said when her box came, "It's like Christmas!" And it really is, to have a talented stylist choose items for you...it feels like Santa knew exactly what you wanted. In my case (and I've read others' similar comments), my stylist often chooses pieces I wouldn't have known to choose. So far she's been overwhelmingly right. It reminds me of going to Nordstrom and picking out some items to try on while the saleswoman did the same. I didn't like anything I had picked and liked almost everything she pulled. So you see, sometimes it's best to get professional help!<br />
<br />
If you’re not familiar with Stitch Fix,
it’s an online styling service for women. (If you are familiar with it, you can skip the next three paragraphs.) You create a FREE online
style profile and whenever you are ready, you can schedule your first
fix. For a $20 styling fee, you will be matched with a personal stylist
who will review your style profile and hand-pick 5 items just for you!
The items are shipped to your home so you can try them on with clothes
and accessories that you already own so you can decide if they're right for
you.<br />
<br />
To check out, just log into your Stitch Fix
account and leave feedback for each item. Keep the items you love and
return everything else in the pre-paid shipping envelope that is
included in your fix. The service costs only $20 per fix, which covers
shipping, returns and your stylist’s services. If you choose to keep <b><u>any</u></b>
items from your fix, the $20 cost is automatically deducted from the
price of your clothes and if you keep <b>EVERYTHING</b> from your fix, you automatically save 25% on your entire fix. This
amazing service is easy, fun, and perfect for busy women who don’t have
time to shop.<br />
<br />
Stitch Fix allows you to set how often you receive a fix; I've chosen to receive one every other month. However, you can schedule one as often or as seldom as you choose. <br />
<br />
This post contains affiliate links, including my referral link to Stitch
Fix. I receive a small commission each time someone signs up for Stitch
Fix, which I use to offset the costs of my own fixes. If you enjoy the
content and are considering signing up for <a href="http://www.dpbohttps//www.stitchfix.com/referral/5535205" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Stitch Fix</a>,
I would greatly appreciate it if you sign up using any of the links in
this blog post. Thanks! Now that I’ve filled you in on how Stitch Fix
works, let’s dive in to this month’s fix!<br />
<br />
Obligatory disclaimer: please excuse the limp hair and worn-off makeup. We took these pics right after I woke up from a nap, so I was feeling rested but didn't take into account that I didn't look as polished as I had a few hours earlier when I went to church. Luckily, the clothes were not the problem. But also, as my husband took my picture, I felt super awkward with my "poses." I would love to have a bigger mirror in my bed/bathroom and also better light for photography. Oh well!<br />
<br />
First up were the <b>Yuli Lace Cap Sleeve Blouse ($68) from Pixley </b>and the <b>Jordyn Bootcut Pant</b> <b>($88)</b> <b>from Liverpool</b>. My awesome stylist Kiersten totally listened to what I asked for and carefully studied the Pinterest board I've shared with her. I had pinned several lace tops and asked for one; the ones I pinned are white or cream (and I still would like one of those) but this black top is super cute. The little cap sleeves are pretty and end at a good place on my arms so they don't look too thick; and the neckline has a small edge of sheer black chiffon which is a cute detail although you can't see it in this picture. I also liked that it zips almost all the way down the back to make it easy to put on, which is a plus since the lace doesn't have any stretch.<br />
<br />
One note: the top doesn't have a lining at all so a cami or tank underneath is a must. I used a black one here (I get mine from Old Navy) but Justin mentioned I could probably use white underneath for a different look. I liked using a tank that was slightly longer than the top for some coverage in the back.<br />
<br />
Obviously this top will go with all kinds of things, including jeans and
heeled boots for a date night, and when it's chilly I will put a jacket
on top. It's also going to be great in the spring and summer. Multiple
seasons = worth the cost!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWo3q2Cg91qCZqzvmezvP5o4htrZgA4XS-oY_FP0JiedZVjJXMB6vnPTD-Hxvh1ghfRHqLnqWBYyfQFWnWgR1R3XH2ReBwARuDPcGwOWL5ScmToC3kWy5ZykODL2jlm3dnLgLfZyiLfNRc/s1600/Stitchfix3No1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWo3q2Cg91qCZqzvmezvP5o4htrZgA4XS-oY_FP0JiedZVjJXMB6vnPTD-Hxvh1ghfRHqLnqWBYyfQFWnWgR1R3XH2ReBwARuDPcGwOWL5ScmToC3kWy5ZykODL2jlm3dnLgLfZyiLfNRc/s640/Stitchfix3No1.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
Since I was trying on the <b>Jordyn Bootcut Pants</b> anyway, I just put them on with the top, which I think makes it office appropriate (well, maybe not my office, which gets covered in sawdust on a regular basis, but good for a client meeting offsite). I was excited but a little dubious about these pants. I had asked Kiersten for some bootcut jeans or pants to try and she delivered. However, I thought they might be a little too small when I took them out of the box. Luckily, I was wrong! The pants are a lovely dark heather gray and the length was perfect for me (I'm 5'2"). I can wear my black ankle boots (I think the heels are about 2 1/2") or flats, which is fine since I don't wear high heels very much. My favorite thing about these pants is that they don't have a zipper. Instead, they have a wide waistband that holds in anything that needs to be held in but still feels comfortable, a lot like yoga pants (LOVE). The fabric has enough stretch that it hugs my curves, but not in a hootchie mama way. (Do people still say "hootchie mama?")<br />
<br />
Here's a picture of the outfit with a waterfall cardigan from my first fix since I'm trying to develop my remixing skills. So far a lot of the pieces Kiersten sends me work with previous items; I feel like she really is keeping the previous fixes in mind as she chooses things for me. Sometimes she even mentions how to add in something from a previous fix, plus I have the picture cards for inspirations. This cardigan is super soft so I loved wearing it with these pants, but I will definitely add color with a top or scarf when I wear this outfit.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcKVBvOgmM1PkSBDtyH-ctNLfjREBrUKgKMTudAxqO5ExDeNYVVoz5Xy7mZBMAq_QMonre9O2C2wU_gAuu0VxSBVytWqjXJ5rFpemyRtx7TybP3sU3mLZdbCKQHGfBFXlq-ydpiwqKFGw8/s1600/Stitchfix3No2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcKVBvOgmM1PkSBDtyH-ctNLfjREBrUKgKMTudAxqO5ExDeNYVVoz5Xy7mZBMAq_QMonre9O2C2wU_gAuu0VxSBVytWqjXJ5rFpemyRtx7TybP3sU3mLZdbCKQHGfBFXlq-ydpiwqKFGw8/s640/Stitchfix3No2.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The next piece to consider was the <b>Adalia Striped Blanket Scarf by Echo ($38.00). </b>My initial reaction was, "Wow, this is a HUGE scarf," and I am a small person, so I wasn't sure it would work even though I <i>had</i> asked Kiersten for a blanket scarf to try. Plus, the ones I pinned all had color in the plaid, like so:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVZ7Xk2opttM9YsoXhyMaLUKrat_7B4SXDwZmUbAs-A6Z09uhlaTeo6yHdP3TfbPeNm0CP3quL2ouNW1-vlTUa8qwi6SEu6c1jNaaQAY5dNTN_p4pYqd7oix3jqKIzKtHXp9RuHmJ91Hk_/s1600/faa365990f898e574d2e9fb31c1a7e27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVZ7Xk2opttM9YsoXhyMaLUKrat_7B4SXDwZmUbAs-A6Z09uhlaTeo6yHdP3TfbPeNm0CP3quL2ouNW1-vlTUa8qwi6SEu6c1jNaaQAY5dNTN_p4pYqd7oix3jqKIzKtHXp9RuHmJ91Hk_/s640/faa365990f898e574d2e9fb31c1a7e27.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Then my daughter touched the scarf from the fix and fell in love with its softness, so I had to try it. This is the way the style card suggested to wear it--easy enough. But there are a ton of other ways. The scarf really is soft, but I need more color. I'm also not convinced that I even need a scarf this big. I can get hot really easily now that I'm 40, and I'd hate to pay this much for a scarf that makes me feel smothered. I broke the news to C that she would have to say goodbye to this scarf.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0afJV8cwJOpObkL6OlBVr34UBr830tAPlETDnrhOOhD1XaNGKLMD6fWJ9uv51uOdJ_0KjAq_U6-XakE2ieJq00fXYzmmMPZEeQD6Tplvy9U5_jpGyHEqqnZ6zwDBuIPS8XMFUeC3zEdkR/s1600/Stitchfix3No3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0afJV8cwJOpObkL6OlBVr34UBr830tAPlETDnrhOOhD1XaNGKLMD6fWJ9uv51uOdJ_0KjAq_U6-XakE2ieJq00fXYzmmMPZEeQD6Tplvy9U5_jpGyHEqqnZ6zwDBuIPS8XMFUeC3zEdkR/s640/Stitchfix3No3.jpg" width="480" /> </a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Next I tried on the <b>Moni Geo Print & Camisole Blouse ($58.00) by 41Hawthorne. </b>I had pinned this exact blouse so I was excited to try it. The off-white cami that comes with it is totally separate, which I liked because I have been known to get trapped in a blouse that has an inner attached layer. I really like the cheerful print and especially the bronze metal studs on the front and the sleeves. That's one of my favorite things about Stitch Fix: the pieces have little details that make them more special than you usually see at, say, Target or Old Navy. It's these things--along with the stylist-considered fit for my style and figure--that make me willing to pay more than I normally would.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3fAaaD4WnsadgWApfBN6K7H3A5cwMvYKXZYYxAXM4QtFbeT90BejY8mXm9giM89yEtHevYA76BT_lhm2eX1RTaP8JIvZ3p236rW4vjuKN6ZJHASleulmAylCR_XoPjR1dIKMdsnxiiFG9/s1600/Stitchfix3No4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3fAaaD4WnsadgWApfBN6K7H3A5cwMvYKXZYYxAXM4QtFbeT90BejY8mXm9giM89yEtHevYA76BT_lhm2eX1RTaP8JIvZ3p236rW4vjuKN6ZJHASleulmAylCR_XoPjR1dIKMdsnxiiFG9/s640/Stitchfix3No4.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Once I saw the photos of me in this top, however, I was not as enthusiastic. It doesn't seem to lie right in the front (the other pic was even worse). I'm not trying to pretend I have a perfectly flat stomach, but I swear the lace top didn't make my midsection bulge out like this one did. I didn't see a problem in person, but the camera doesn't lie, right? Plus, I already do have a (solid) orange tunic top. If this one had been more flattering, I'd keep it; but since it isn't, it will go back. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Finally I saved my potential favorite for last: the <b>Lex Textured Floral Knit Fit & Flare Dress ($74.00) by Brixon Ivy. </b>I had pinned a skirt in the same fabric (which is a maroon and blue print that looks like brocade but is much softer) and Kiersten said she hadn't been able to find the skirt but sent this instead. Honestly, I'm glad she did. A dress is sooooo much easier than separate pieces. No worrying about whether to tuck or not, and how the waistband, etc. fits. The dress is super soft and stretchy in a "fit and flare" style which is super flattering to my slightly pear-shaped figure by balancing out my hips and emphasizing my small waist. When I saw this picture, I said, "Wow, I look very...va-va-va-voom." My husband agrees so that's great.I think Kiersten is right that it will look great during the holidays both for slightly dressy and more casual events (I don't need a fancy dress for holiday parties this year).</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I added a black cardigan as the style card suggested which instantly made the dress more casual, especially if I add tights with the ankle boots. I also tried the navy knit blazer from my last fix which looked awesome for a business meeting. I'd probably wear knee-high boots with that. Sorry I don't have any pictures for those last two; my photographer had gone on strike.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3X0gKj7h6RM3EBlijoMMyE6dv27dJiaxpsPEIGKRRkFBo0iZUtMXsGnehk-Q1NUhhKWTWJAGGVN5-1j_UW0PNnv4whorlWV8KADmn7ANrJQzQnxjUVh8a-2wX8Qq1YspQB2E3op7bDvuo/s1600/Stitchfix3No5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3X0gKj7h6RM3EBlijoMMyE6dv27dJiaxpsPEIGKRRkFBo0iZUtMXsGnehk-Q1NUhhKWTWJAGGVN5-1j_UW0PNnv4whorlWV8KADmn7ANrJQzQnxjUVh8a-2wX8Qq1YspQB2E3op7bDvuo/s640/Stitchfix3No5.jpg" width="480" /></a><br />
So there you have it! Here is the official tally of Stitch Fix #3:<br />
<ul>
<li> <b>Yuli Lace Cap Sleeve Blouse </b>($68) from Pixley <b>- </b>KEEP</li>
<li><b>Jordyn Bootcut Pant</b> ($88) from Liverpool - KEEP </li>
<li><b>Adalia Striped Blanket Scarf </b>by Echo ($38.00) - <strike>RETURN </strike>KEEP</li>
<li><b>Moni Geo Print & Camisole Blouse </b>($58.00) by 41Hawthorne -<strike>RETURN </strike>KEEP</li>
<li><b>Lex Textured Floral Knit Fit & Flare Dress </b>($74.00) by Brixon Ivy - KEEP</li>
</ul>
<b>UPDATE: </b>When I did the math, it was more affordable to keep everything with the 25% discount than to send anything back. So my daughter can share the scarf (I like it better as a shawl; it's big enough!) and I will try the blouse again with a more supportive cami. <br />
<ul>
</ul>
Again, if you are interested in trying Stitch Fix, you can sign up and cancel at any time if you decide it's not for you. If you do decide to try it, please consider using the link below to sign up so I can get a small commission.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.stitchfix.com/referral/5535205" target="_blank">Alison's Stitch Fix Referral Link</a><br />
<br />
I think I might schedule a fix after Christmas (using Christmas money, woot!) so I can start wearing the items sooner than Jan. 15, so stay tuned!<br />
<br />
If you have any questions, feel free to ask in the comments here (you can comment anonymously), on Facebook, or send me an email at hairlinefracture at gmail dot com or PM me on FB.<br />
<br />
<b>What do you think about the items in this fix? Did I decide correctly what to keep and what to return? </b><br />
<br />
I tried to link up to Maria's Stitch Fix <a href="http://crazytogether.com/november-stitch-fix-30-review-giveaway-and-link-up/2/" target="_blank">link-up post</a> where there are several other bloggers sharing what they got in their fixes. I don't know if mine got on the page but regardless, you might enjoy looking at more clothes!<br />
<b> </b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://crazytogether.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/Share-Pics-Of-Your-Fix-Button.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://crazytogether.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/Share-Pics-Of-Your-Fix-Button.jpg" height="221" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2449730019295901209.post-5671452593409100472015-11-15T06:53:00.001-08:002015-11-15T06:54:34.223-08:00TournamentYesterday was my girl's very first tournament as a middle school basketball player. They had three games, two of them back-to-back.<br />
<br />
And she and her friends on "B" team rocked it! Tournament champs.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidFlWEMJsqRHiJsP_IdUCvFfuRN3K6uz9A6aCWnTN52MVEA9TO-fu4sKy-qJJ1APyK0BXVV1sGrao5REEW_5GJVilm2iZsjetRlLlp9bvGG3-270vA4hrDz-XoeDR-jQUH-qGh42KOAL9c/s1600/Btournament.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidFlWEMJsqRHiJsP_IdUCvFfuRN3K6uz9A6aCWnTN52MVEA9TO-fu4sKy-qJJ1APyK0BXVV1sGrao5REEW_5GJVilm2iZsjetRlLlp9bvGG3-270vA4hrDz-XoeDR-jQUH-qGh42KOAL9c/s400/Btournament.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
They all played very hard and were a real team. I look forward to seeing them learn more basketball skills as the year goes on, but they already have things that can't be taught: heart and hustle.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065962367181064516noreply@blogger.com2