(Trying to) Be Well.

I have blogged about my "interesting" health history, but I don't really talk about my health otherwise. I am very health conscious and try to make smart, responsible choices for me and my family when it comes to what we eat or how we spend our time. That's why it is so frustrating when despite all of that effort, I still have times when I am just not physically well.

Right now I am having some (hopefully minor) issues and seeing a doctor and all of that stuff, so I'm not going to go on about that - I'll go on about other things instead. Like my frustration with this issue.

I came to realize the other night that the frustration I was feeling was connected to the control I was NOT feeling... I remember when I was pregnant with my younger child, I was so at peace. I had given up control to God and really had no worries (yes, there is a *little* more to that story that I will probably share at a later date). I wondered then - what is my deal now? Where did my peace go?

I think I just forgot. I forgot to decrease so He can increase. I forgot to show my problem how big my God is, instead of the other way around.

As a stay at home mom to young children I have to be on top of SO much stuff that being in control just gets to be a habit. It is more of a reflex than a choice. Of course the level with which I need to be on top of things changes based on the ages and stages of my children and whatever we have going on in our lives, but - as any mom can tell you - there is always a lot to keep up with.

The other thing I have a hard time remembering is to take my health seriously. Because of my history, I don't really have the luxury of ignoring things or putting things off until later - yet I do. Again, I think this is more of a reflex than a choice. I *think* this is what ALL moms do. And I think it is a survival mechanism.  ESPECIALLY with young kiddos! They need so much - they really do. As grown-ups we know that we will be OK and we can figure it out or go without or wait until later or whatever the situation calls for. But little ones really cannot go without or do without or figure it out. As parents, we get to guide and nurture them until they are old enough to do things for themselves. And - little by little - we can then "decrease" our presence in their lives so that they can "increase" their independence and self confidence.

But in the meantime... In the meantime - how do we take care of ourselves?

I don't know. I *for real* don't know. But I am open to suggestions. For a lot of mommies that I know, one answer is relying on family to take care of the kiddos every now and then to free up time for other things. But we don't live near our families. I know others who rely on friends for help. I know some great people here, but I also have a 17 month old with separation issues, so that isn't exactly an "easy" solution. And time isn't necessarily the problem.

But I do know that I am not in control anyway, so I just need to get over that. On the other hand, I think God expects us to be responsible for the bodies He gave us and that we need to take care of ourselves in the best way we can so we can do the work we are supposed to do. The challenges we face are just part of our journey.

I will have to keep working on this problem (in my copious free time). But for now, here's a completely random picture that has nothing to do with this blog post. It just made me laugh:

Oh, Facebook...

Facebook: What happened? I don't even know who you are anymore.

I remember years ago when we were first getting to know each other... I was nervous, at first. You seemed too young for me.  I wasn't sure if I could trust you, but eventually I shared more and more of my life with you. You helped me find old friends. I showed you pictures of my child, my life, my experiences. You even helped me share the news with my friends and family when I was pregnant with my second child! We shared so many good times.

At first the changes were subtle. We had a good relationship, so I was willing to overlook them. I wanted to support your new way of expressing yourself because I trusted you. Then you decided to use what you know about me to decide who I might know, what I might like to buy. This bothered me a little, but still - I trusted you. I thought it was an even exchange after all the help you had given me with connecting to old friends. And really everyone was doing it anyway, so what was the real harm?

But you just couldn't let things be. The changes started happening more often. Other people felt violated by you, but I trusted you - I wanted to believe you cared about what was best for me. I foolishly felt like you wanted to make me happy. You weren't in it for the money - you were in it for the people. You wanted us all to be friends and keep in touch with each other.

Now I see how foolish I've been.

It was just sitting there in front of me the whole time: you were using me - ARE using me. You just want to profit off me and my friends. With the way you are presenting yourself now it is clear to me that you do not care if I keep up with my friends at all. It almost seems as if you are deliberately trying to make it impossible to keep up with them, in fact.

You say your were doing all of this for me for FREE, so what's the harm? You tell me. What indeed is the harm of me sharing so much of my private information with you and spending so much time with you? No harm to you, that's for sure.

Facebook, there is one more change I would like you to make: it is time to add a "dislike" button.

Being a normal kid.

I knew this would happen.

On Sunday my five year old and I went out to get a new pair of shoes for her. Her old ones were pretty small and she needs something she can run and play in, so we picked out her first "real" athletic shoes. Prior to this pair, she had shoes that she could run in, but they were not athletic brands - they were kid friendly brands for growing feet.

I was surprised that she needed a size bigger than I had anticipated and worried that we were getting them too big... AND they already have more bulk on the bottom than she's used to because they are running-type shoes... BUT she loved them and declared them "PERFECT!" so off we went...

Of course she was very excited to wear them to school on Monday and was already talking about how fast she'd be able to run in them. On Monday morning I asked her to not try to run her fastest until she was sure she could walk in her new shoes because they were very different from her old pair and if she tried to do too much too fast she would fall. She listened intently and repeated what I had said back to me when I asked, so we said our good-byes and she went on with her school day.

All day long, even as I'm going about my business with my toddler, I was thinking about my big girl and her new big girl shoes. I had visions of her running and falling on her playground and being all banged up and crying when I went to go pick her up that day. She is my first child so of course I am very protective of her, but I think I am even more so because of what we went through when I was pregnant with her. She is also very sensitive and I just can't stand the thought of her being hurt.

So I go to pick her up from school and see her sitting nicely at a table looking at a book - perfectly happy and normal. But as she turns to get out of her chair, I see the bandage on her knee... And the scrape on her elbow... And she looks at me like, "you said this would happen..."

The first thing she says to me is, "I fell." No tears, just very matter-of-factly. I wanted to inspect every inch of her right there and hug her and have her give me a play by play of what happened, but I didn't. I held it together and we gathered her belongings and headed home as we do on any other day. Except for her exaggerated limp, that is ("I can't walk normal with a band-aid on!").

We casually talked about what happened, how it happened, where it happened - and WHY it happened. She was very mature about it and didn't fault her beloved shoes at all. She was not happy with her scrapes and wanted to know when they would go away and how long they would hurt. And as I'm explaining to her that this is a normal thing that every kid goes through, I think, "Awesome! She is a normal kid!"

But the heavier thought I have is, "We are going to have this conversation several more times in the future, aren't we?" Because I know this isn't the last time I am going to guide her through a hurt and help her understand her pain. I just hope and pray that we can always talk about it this way, and that I can continue to keep it together enough to rejoice in the fact that she is just a normal kid.

If you can't blog about a belly dancing class at the Y, what can you blog about?

If you have ever doubted my ability for physical comedy, you should come watch me in my belly dancing class at the Y.

I am very out of shape. I don't mean overweight, I mean in poor physical condition. At this stage in my life it is quite a challenge to officially exercise, so I thought signing up for a class would force me to do it. But I didn't want a boring class, so I took a chance and signed up for Belly Dancing. At the time I registered, I was the only one signed up so I didn't even know if the class would happen.

It did. There were six other participants, and the teacher - whom my husband has dubbed "The Original Belly Dancer" based on my description of her to him. Some of the other students take this class regularly and came with supplies. Others probably share my gift for physical comedy, though I don't know because I was too self conscious to look at any one else when we were "dancing". There are many areas of life in which my lack of curves gives me a distinct disadvantage - belly dancing is one of them.

Both my five year old and my husband asked, "What did you do? What does belly dancing look like?" My answer? It is exactly what you think it is. Whatever it is you picture when you think of belly dancing, that is what we did in class. And I am pretty sure the teacher is making it up as she goes.

So now I have ordered a coined skirt and a veil for the class because I feel like the teacher would prefer us to get our own instead of using hers (and I don't want to be rude). So not only am I now attending a weekly belly dancing class, but I am also the owner of a belly dancing skirt and veil that I get to keep forever.

FOREVER.

So I never ever forget that I once signed up for a belly dancing class at the Y with the O.B.D.

Never Forget (Always Remember)

Ten years ago my life was very different than it is today. My husband and I were planning our wedding and living in Tulsa, OK. We worked for the same company and in the same building. Though I had been working in the HR department, I took a job in an accounting group as a paper pusher to escape the toxicity of the HR group.

In addition to working full time and planning our wedding, I was in rehearsal for "Lend Me a Tenor" with Theatre Tulsa. And recovering from surgery to repair a hernia (from scar tissue from previous surgeries). So. Life was not exactly boring.

On September 11, 2001, as I was driving in to work I kind of sort heard something on the radio about something maybe possibly going on in New York, but it was very unspecific at that point. I had never been to NYC so I wasn't very familiar with what they were talking about anyway. When I got to my desk I tried to figure out more about what was going on, so I went to CNN's website. When I saw the image of the smoking building I knew this was more than a little something. From that point things started happening faster than I could get information - my husband and I were emailing back and forth, I was trying to find a live news feed somewhere online, coworkers were doing the same. Well, most coworkers. I distinctly remember people trying to carry on with their days work while all of this was going on and being very annoyed by that. As the events of the day unfolded, without the help of a television we got news very slowly. The internet was not as instantaneous as it is today. It was very hard to comprehend just what had happened. Just hearing the news, you begin to get it, but it wasn't until I saw it that it really hit me.

I had to leave work early that day for a follow-up appointment for my surgery. They had a TV in the waiting area, and that's when I saw the images I never want to see again. This was later that afternoon, so not live, but they were showing people jumping from the buildings. As much as I will never forget the images of the planes striking and the smoking towers, the images of people jumping are forever in my memory. That their situation was so dire that THAT was the best option... It is more than I can imagine.

The other thing I will never forget about that day is how I was introduced to evil in a way I could never have imagined. To that point I had never witnessed a result of a human being making a choice to do complete and total evil. Obviously this was not the first example of humans exhibiting evil on this earth, but this was the first time I saw it. Repeatedly.

Though I was 26 years old, I guess I still had some innocence left to lose.

I hope my daughters never have to witness anything like that happen in their lifetimes. What I struggle with now is how to explain 9/11 to them when they are old enough to ask. That time will come sooner than I will be ready to try, that is certain.

In the days after 9/11 it was hard not to think about what had happened everyday that I went to work in downtown Tulsa - the building next to the one I worked in looked almost exactly like the World Trade Center towers, except half as tall. Every person I encountered - at work, at rehearsal, at the grocery store - was so vulnerable that it felt like just being alive was a bonding experience.

That is not the feeling I get about people today. Though I am glad we do not have an open national wound today, I wish people would always remember that feeling of interconnectedness and try to achieve it again. Or at least make eye contact with me at the grocery store.

Bras are stupid.

Yes, this is probably TMI, but I ordered new bras today. After nursing my second child, the old ones don't fit anymore (if you breastfed your babies, you know what I mean). So here's the thing: Bras are stupid.

Yes, bras are stupid. Who decided women are supposed to wear bras? I understand that in some circumstances the support is greatly appreciated, but what about the rest of us? Who made these stupid rules anyway? Why is it a thing if I don't want to wear one? Is it a thing or am I just assuming it's a thing? I DON'T EVEN KNOW! Grrrr....

Bras are so stupid. Bras models are stupider. Stupid bra models.

You know what? I don't even care. It's none of your business if I wear a bra or not. Quit judging me!

**Breathing in**
**Breathing out**
**Breathing in**
**Breathing out**

OK. Now - what?

Oh, yeah. New bras. I hope they get here soon.

Faking it.

So I just read this article about people calling in sick to work when they aren't really sick. And it made me think how unfair this is.

This point is probably the strongest argument for the case that it is harder to be a stay at home mom than a working outside the home mom. Because conceivably a mom who works outside the home could take her child to whatever daycare solution she normally uses, and then call in sick to work, therefore having the day to herself... I'm not saying everybody does this, I'm just saying it's an option.

I don't ever get to call in sick. Ever. Even if I am sick. Migraine, cold, doesn't matter. We don't live near our families so there is no other option. Mommy is ON all the time. My husband is helpful, but he has a job and we kind of need him to keep it.

I adore my children. I consider being their mom the greatest privilege of my life. But. BUT...

I daydream about having a completely free day with no obligations to anyone at all but me. Get a pedicure? Sure, why not! Stop by Starbucks? Absolutely! Go window shopping (or for real shopping) at the mall? Why the heck not! Have a light lunch while I read the day's news on my phone... Come home... Start reading a book... Have some ice cream (and not share it)... My prerogative. Hmmm...

OK. Honestly just writing that made me sick to my stomach a little. So maybe I am not ready for that much "me" time. But. BUT...

One day.

Just not today. I wouldn't trade my job for all the day care solutions on earth.

The Good with the Bad.

So here are some things I am REALLY bad at:

• Shopping at Costco: I think there should be a class on How to Utilize Your Costco Membership. I just don't know what I'm supposed to do when I'm there. I think I need more structure... Even if I see food I want, I have no place to keep it. Is this why people have "garage refrigerators"? It's just overwhelming. I've been eating chicken flautas every day since our last trip because they will go bad if I don't. I have a salsa container that will last until my girls go to college. WHAT IS THE SECRET??

• Keeping in touch with old friends: Because I have moved A LOT in my life, I have friends all over the western hemisphere (and probably a few in the eastern, too). Some of these people are very dear to me and have a special place in my heart, yet I haven't had much (if any) communication with them in ages. I just can't keep up. It should be easier with email instead of snail mail but it's not. I am not happy about this but I don't know how to make it right. I suck.

• Remembering anything: I used to be good at this. And then I had children.

These are things I'm pretty good at:

• Listening: That's right, I think I'm a good listener. I dare you to challenge me - I will hear every word you say.

• Remembering random specific information: I understand this may seem like a contradiction as I have stated earlier in this post that I can't remember anything. But this is more of a problem than it is a point of pride: random specific information will not leave my brain. For example: my 3rd grade best friend's birthday? March 25th. I haven't seen her since 1984. Yes, now we are Facebook friends, but I knew her birthday before that. My street address from 1980-1983? 4811F Arthur Place. Why? WHY??

• Saying I'll do something even though I have no idea if I can actually accomplish said task: This one's kind of a problem, too. Especially when I forget that I said I'd do it. Great example: I just remembered I told my daughter's teacher I'd be the room mom. Crap.

• Making lemonade out of lemons: No, really. Where we used to live we had a lemon tree and I made lemonade with the lemons. It was pretty good.

• Putting things together without the instructions: Instructions insmucktions. I don't need no stinking instructions.

• Losing things: See "Remembering anything" above.