A Perfect Day

I just have to write to take my mind off of the things that have happened this evening at work to cause me the utmost anxiety and fear. To start my shift off an undercover cop comes in asking if we had received the wanted poster, we had not, and asked us if anything suspicious has happened, any guests paying with cash, etc. Then later in the evening I get a phone call from a young girl who spoke a million words a minute and to top it off we had a bad connection. I had difficulty understanding her. To make the horrible phone call short, I hung up on her...intentionally. I was not going to waste my time on someone who was just going to swear at me and insult me. I got really nervous after that and since then I cannot get my mind off of "what if" kind of thoughts and scenarios. I won't get into it because the reason I am writing is to take my mind off of it and I am not doing such a hot job so far.

So, yesterday was by far one of the greatest days I have had in quite some time. It was simply marvelous. Our hotel was under budgeted for the month of September and my boss asked if anyone wanted an extra day off. I gladly volunteered my services..wasn't that so good of me? So for my special gift of an extra day off I started the day by riding bikes with the girls to school. Then when Lydia and I got back home we changed all the beds, did dishes, laundry and other various chores. Lydia's favorite part of the chores was helping me pick out the bedding to put on my bed.

After lunch with Kevin, Lydia and I got on our riding boots and headed over to my good friend's in laws' house to help them exercise their horses. Once again, am I not so thoughtful and kind to offer my services?

The day was a bit cooler than usual, and quite cloudy. When we got to the pasture the horses were so excited to see us they actually came to us this time (we usually have to go to them and coax them with a bit of hey). The horses are really beginning to get to know me. Last time I went I took them all a gift (all 10 of them!) CARROTS! I think they will love me forever now. What's funny is that they kept nudging my hands, I think they remembered the carrots. I will have to take them some again next week. I have a favorite horse. His name is Clyde. His is all black and absolutely beautiful. Sadly he won't let anyone ride him anymore. A trainer is coming in a week or so to see if the horse is worth keeping, if he can be reminded of how he is supposed to act when someone is riding him. Clyde was the first horse to come up to me. When I turned my back he started nudging me and nuzzling my hair. He even blew on my neck, which tickled insanely. He was exceptionally affectionate that day. All the horses seemed to be want some lovin'. I tried to pass it around but a couple of them seemed to get jealous and crowded in on me. I was in heaven! To be smothered by horses! What a silly girl I am. I will be sad if they sell Clyde. I wish he would let me ride him. For some reason I am always drawn to the horses with attitude. When I was a young girl I would go visit some cousins who had horses. They had a particular horse named Ginger. I loved that horse. She had attitude and didn't let just anyone ride her. She let me. My uncle even told me that she missed me when I left after a long stay. And then the next time we visited, which was always a long time apart, she would remember me and give me nudges and loves.

So, my friend asked me who I wanted to ride and almost as if Clyde understood he came even closer to me and put his face right in mine, I rubbed his nose and told him he was a silly horse and that if he would just behave I would ride him. So, I reluctantly chose to ride "Fat Jack", that is his nick name, for the life of me I cannot recall his real name. Fat Jack is the biggest horse I have ever seen. He is also called "the Barbie horse". He is a tan color with a blond mane. But he is incredibly over weight. I chose him so I could give him a good work out. Under all his layers of fat he does have a lot of muscle. When he runs you can see how beautiful he used to be and hopefully after several rides we can get him back in shape. He is 11 years old, their oldest horse.

When we got them to the coral I swung the lead rope around to get them warmed up and get their hearts pumping. That is one of my favorite things to do. I chase after then swinging the rope. I love to see them run. Once they were all saddled they seemed anxious to get a good work out. And boy did we work them hard! The horses don't get ridden very often, so my friend and I decided that we will definitely make it over at least once a week. The horses need to be reminded of who is boss and also of how to respond to directions. In the beginning I was a bit frightened of Fat Jack, if he were to even step on my foot it would probably be broken so I couldn't imagine if he were to do more than that! He was very feisty and stubborn. So Rena, my friend, hops on instead of me, she is so good with the horses! She trains riders. I hope to learn great things from her, and not just about horses. So she took over and worked Fat Jack real good. So much that when I took him back he was pretty much done. I worked with him on staying close to the rail and following it rather than his usual circles he would take me on. He would repeatedly head back to the gate and I would give him a good kick and get him back in line. He improved once he knew I wasn't giving in. While Rena was working with Fat Jack I had her horse, Leo. He is young, 3 years old. He is also incredibly stubborn, more so than any other horse. But boy did I have fun. He would fight me on directions, he wanted to do his own thing or follow Rena and Fat Jack. I would just tell him no and give him a good kick and flick of the rein on his back side. He would do a hop and take off into a dramatic gallop, shaking his head all over the place and dipping down and twisting around. The first time he did it I was a bit nervous of being thrown off, but then we both started relaxing and it was awesome. All I thought about was Leo and working him. I had no other thought in my mind. We worked on turns (they need to learn to turn with the squeeze or kick of my left or right leg, not with the reins), backing up, trotting, and galloping. It was the best ride I have had.

When we were finished riding Rena and I just sat on the back of our horses talking, I braided Fat Jack's mane so he could be a true Barbie horse. As we were walking the horses back to the pasture I noticed Clyde down at the fence waiting and calling to us.

After all the fun of exercising the horses I was quite tired. I stood watching Lydia and Karen (Rena's daughter) swinging on the tire swings hung in the trees that shaded the Grandma and Grandpa's back yard. A big gust of wind came and yellowing leaves swirled and twirled all around the two playful girls. Oh how I wish I had my camera (also because Grandpa had taken the girls on a pony ride in the pony cart, they each had a turn at using the reins). I could no longer be an observer. I went to the lush green grass that surround the big tree with the swings hanging in it, I found my perfect spot and laid spread eagle on the ground. The wind was just perfect, not too cold. I shut my eyes and just listened to all the sounds around me, the girls chatting and giggling, the rustling of the leaves in the trees, and the silent whisperings of the leaves fluttering to the ground all around me. It was beautiful. I smiled and felt so at peace. This had been the most perfect day. I lay there thinking about the perfectness of the day and how I wouldn't change a thing, how I longed for more. I replayed in my mind the movement of the horse and how free I felt while on his back. As I laid in the grass I felt so happy I could have just floated away, up into the clouds.

Venting

Do you ever feel like you just need a good vent? Well, I do, so I hope you can endure the next several lines of my ranting and raving, it will do me good.

How are earth do people live with themselves sometimes? I asked that question way too many times this evening while at work. A particular guest was so incredibly difficult and completely discontent with everything around her. I think if she were to call and complain about just one more thing I'd have to check her out. Her personality completely and utterly rubbed me wrong. I do not get irritated by people's quirk isms too easily, because I have more than my share!, but this woman was...AUGH! I think I even did that silently behind behind closed doors. Before she even accepted a room she had about 10 questions that depending on my response she may or may not stay. And then once she was in her room the TV was not to her liking. I moved her to another room. That room was too cold. I opened the windows for her to get the room warmed up a bit. The traffic was too loud. I shut them for her and ran out screaming, hahaha. I had forgotten to leave her the new room keys so when I went back up to her room she opened the door with the most hideous expression and proceeded to tell me that she turned on the heater and it was dusty and why was it dusty and why hadn't someone vacuumed it and how she still cannot get the thing clean. I explained that it hadn't been turned on all summer and that she was the first to use it. I think her eyes just about fell out of her eye sockets from rolling around in her head too much. I apologized and turned and left. When I got back downstairs she shortly followed. We didn't have the right tea, the coffee was too cold, there weren't enough cups, "are you sure there wasn't a pet in my room?" I am not positive, but the rooms are cleaned thoroughly. We do try to keep pets on the first floor so you should be safe". "That is what they all say" was all she said as she left with once again her eyes spasming in her head. AUGH! I can not believe this woman! Seriously how does one live a life with such a difficult personality? I don't even think difficult really describes her. There was a LONG time in my life where I spent the mass majority of my time as a complete downer. Now that is a really annoying trait. I have no idea how I lived with myself. I think it is right up there with being difficult and hard to please. I learned the hard way that people just do not like to be around you if you act like that, downer or difficult. Even now when I find myself "acting up" I can't stand myself. I give myself a good lecture and a good kick in the butt and I am ready to go it again but much better. This woman is probably the only guest I have ever really dreaded seeing or hearing.

I take that back, I am reminded of another insanely irritating trait! One night I checked in this family, 3 girls and a Mom and Dad. From the moment the Dad walked up the desk I could tell he was going to be an issue ALL night. With in minutes of checking them in I saw all 3 daughters, young mind you, lugging in garbage bags full of dirty laundry. They made 3 trips! I did not see the Father once. I then got a call from the daughter asking if we had a laundry service in the hotel. I replied no and the poor thing sighed and hung up. With in a couple minutes the 3 girls were coming back through the lobby with their several bags of laundry followed by a couple more trips. Once again no sign of Father. I soon got a call from the Dad telling me his toilet is flooded. Usually when a Man calls and says that he is embarrassed and he plunges it himself. But no, not this Man. When I got to the room, his oldest daughter, the only grown up of the bunch, answered the door. The Dad was sitting on the edge of the bed watching cartoons! and pointed at the toilet without even looking up or saying a word. I got to the toilet and it was FULL of toilet paper, at least a whole roll! The place had been completely trashed and they had only been there 30 minutes!!!!!!! Around dinner time I saw the parents leave by themselves and did not return for at least an hour carrying dinner for the family! NOW THAT IS IRRITATING! I could not believe this man. Now that I think about it, the Dad was present for all this craziness, but the Mother was not...Where was SHE?

OK, so I think I have sufficiently vented. I feel much better now.

Business Entrepreneurs

Last summer while living in Okinawa Japan I had left a cooler full of melting ice outside. Emily and Lydia came across it and came up with a brilliant idea to make money. Emily went in search of all the necessary supplies to set up shop, a pitcher (actually a watering can for the flower garden) and a flower pot (not quite sure of its purpose, I don't know if she really knew either), her piggy bank to give change to her friends when they came shopping, and a request for me to make the official sign. She told me what to write and I wrote it word for word. This was the sign...

Ice For Sale
$1 a cube, if it doesn't melt first

They were both so excited and proud of themselves for coming up with such a clever plan. Too bad it was 90 degrees outside and their merchandise was melting faster than it was selling. I didn't want to be too discouraging of their creativity but when they actually had a neighbor kid come and ask to buy an ice cube I really could not allow him to pay for it. So, the girls changed the sign to FREE ice cubes. All the kids, especially Emily and Lydia, had a blast with it non the less.

Signs?

Did any of you see the full lunar eclipse we had just a month or so ago? I did. It was one of the most fascinating and thought provoking viewings of my life. I want to share with you some of those thoughts. Now you must know that these are MY thoughts. You can take it or leave it.

While I was looking at this celestial phenomena my mind repeatedly recalled a particular scripture. Now, I am not a scriptorium, I am FAR from one. I honestly don't even remember where the scripture is at the moment, but for a really fascinating read look up moon in the index of your scriptures. Well, this particular verse repeatedly played through my mind and my thoughts..."the moon shall be as if it were blood" or something to that effect. The moon looked the color of blood! Was this event that I was privileged enough to behold in fact a sign? When Jesus was born there were signs in the heavens to foretell his birth. When he died there were signs of his death. Have we not been told that there will be signs of His great return? Just sharing with you my thoughts on the matter bring great emotions to my whole soul. Excitement runs through my veins at the very thought of personally viewing a sign of the coming of my Lord and Savior! The experience of seeing this eclipse provoked further study on the subject and definitely more curiosities. I began thinking about what other signs will be foretelling the coming of Christ to earth again. When Noah was on the earth the earth was cleansed by a flood. God promised to never flood the earth again. But the earth will be cleansed again...by fire. Can we not read in the paper or see on TV every day something to the effect of "global warming"? Could this be the "fire" we are told of? I had a dream recently. I vividly recall driving in my car with my family for some sort of escape. It was night time and all that could be seen was the brilliant red embers of fire all around us. There was no other sign of life, no other light, not even in the sky, not even light from the head lights of the car. All I could see was this fire everywhere. It did not put off any other color than red. It almost had a look of red hot lava cracking up through the crust of the earth. I remember waking up a bit uneasy, even scared. I have never seen a sight such as this in all my life. Not in movies, TV, magazines, or newspaper. So, what do I think of this dream? I think it was a dream. But I cannot help but wonder, what it will be like to view more signs of the coming of Christ to earth again. My thoughts, my speculations, they are purely mine. No one knows the whens or the hows of His coming except our Father in Heaven. I only want to share to invoke in you some further study on your own. I want to provoke you to ponder these things and maybe even take it a step further and evaluate your own personal life. "What am I personally doing to prepare for His coming?" I ask that just about everyday.

Life, the Roller Coaster

I want you to close your eyes (well, if you do that you can't read, so close them afterward) and imagine with me. I want you to visualize in your mind that you are at an amusement park and before your eyes is the largest, most thrilling ride you have ever beheld. You are with a friend, a close friend, someone you really care about. You both look at each other and smile with childlike grins that seem to say "I triple dog dare you". And together you bolt for the insanely long line that ever so slowly crept forward. While awaiting your ultimate doom you chat about the weather being perfect for the day, memories of other life threatening adventures, and other silliness. As you near the entrance you can make out these words over the archway of the door, "entering the point of no return!" To the right you see a chicken exit. You tease each other about chickening out. But no way are you going to let the other person know you are scared to death, so you hide your fear, shoving your white clammy hands deep in your pockets, and let out a nervous chuckle. That's it, you lost your chance to turn back, now you have to face the ride.

So, you and your partner climb into your seats, the bars are lowered down over your head just as your final bit of courage makes it way to your stomach. The ride workers come back to ensure you are properly fastened in, you doubting their expertise and perfect training (ha ha) and triple check by wiggling the bars, tightening the straps and praying that they passed safety inspection.

Well, you are off. Slowly you creep up the steep hill. Anticipation, fear and the excitement of knowing when you reach the top you are going to be hurled hundreds of feet to your utter destruction, so it seems, overwhelms your thoughts. Your heart beat begins to match the clanking of the track. You look over the side of the car and see tiny people the size of ants, all waving at you. You near the top and thoughts of death pass before you. You begin to wonder if you should have just taken the chicken exit, forget looking brave and cool for your friend. Your car reaches the top and you have a split second to catch your breath just so you can scream the whole way down! The wind is in your face so forcefully that the scream is unable to come out. You come to the bottom of the drop, you are still alive and you can begin to breath. Your stomach has caught back up with the rest of your body and the roller coaster continues to twist and wind around furiously. You are moving so fast that the car shakes and rattles, your body begins to feel like a baby's toy rattle. There is a loop up ahead and you hold onto your safety harness for dear life just praying the technicians installed it correctly. Before you know it there is another loop. And then again there is another twist and another drop. Your arms are flailing around and you no longer know if you are up or down or sideways. Everything is spinning. You look to your friend next to you to see how they are fairing the ride. They look a little green, you wonder if this is the one you should have chosen to ride with because they might just vomit on you. Then all of a sudden out of no where the ride comes to a surprising turn and immediately the brakes are put on and the ride slows dramatically. You smooth your hair, shake your hands to get the feeling back in. You let out a strange shaky laugh and begin to excitedly chat with your co-rider about the twists and turns, and ask how they faired the ride. The ride comes to a stop and you are let out. Your footing is a little unsure. You grab your friend's arm. You look at them and see that they are no longer green, they are actually stronger and more able to stand than you are. You allow them to help you out and together you walk away from the ride. You excitedly reflect back on the ride, even turning around to look at the MONSTER that you just conquered together. You laugh, you smile, you say "WE DID IT!", "That was awesome", "it was totally worth it", and yes, even "LET'S GO AGAIN!".

Imagine

My Lydia for about 2 years now has had an imaginary friend. This friend is amazing. She is called Little Girl. Honestly this little girl can do ANYTHING! I guess first I should tell you what Little Girl looks like. To put it most simply Little Girl is Lydia's index finger and middle finger...this makes up her 2 legs. One day Lydia entertained us over dinner with all the amazing tricks Little Girl can do. "She can jump really high" Lydia says while jumping her two little fingers off the table and high above her head. "She can do flips" while the two fingers are coming back down to the table they are twisting and turning in all directions. And she can also run really fast, I think you can visualize that motion! Anytime Lydia brings little girl out I bust up laughing. For a couple months around the time of our move Little Girl never came out to play. I thought that maybe Lydia was done with that phase. And to be honest I kinda missed the funny little girl. While on the airplane for our lengthy 15 hour flight Lydia informed me that Little Girl was staying in Okinawa. Then one day about a month or so after moving here we were driving in the car and I noticed Lydia looking out her window kind of in a dreamy state. Then out came her little fingers and she says to me "look Mommy, Little Girl swam all the way here from Okinawa!" I could not hold back the laughter. Lydia has also come across a little soft stuffed Polly Pocket doll (I believe it was in some kid meal or something). It seems as those this doll has officially taken on the name of Little Girl and can do almost just as amazing tricks. She is not as cute as Lydia's little fingers, nor is she as talented, but she certainly has taken on a wonderful role in my daughter's imaginative play. Little Girl has become quite a major part of our family. I cannot imagine life without her.

Torture

I had an eye exam today to see if I am a good candidate for Lasik eye surgery. They had to dilate my eyes in order to look around inside my eyes. During one portion of the exam I had to look straight ahead while they held the brightest of bright lights I had ever beheld, close up in my eyes. It was probably one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do physically. The natural reaction to bright light is to look away or close your eyes. I could do neither. I can still FEEL and SEE the brightness of the light. It was so painful. It was almost as if the light was burning the depths of my brain! I really cannot even describe the discomfort and pain. Especially seen as how I have developed a sensitivity to light. I wonder if that is a form of torture within government agencies, like the FBI and the military and all other worldwide groups who feel it necessary to inflict pain on others. It must be. I think if I was forced to stare into a blinding light I'd end up giving all my secrets away. But then again I am not as strong as others.

My Shoes

Today I had the "blessing" (if you attended you'd know what that was all about) of attending a conference called Time Out for Women. It was fantastic. A bit draining but fantastic non the less. The speaker I want to focus my thoughts on is Jane Clayson Johnson, a very well known anchor woman. She talked to us about embracing the season that we are individually in. She shared a story involving shoes and based the majority of the speech on shoes we wear. Her analogy was wonderful, I want to take it a step further and think about the shoes I wear and what they represent and how I feel about those shoes.

My first pair of shoes I want to write about are my running shoes. The summer before my 30th birthday the realization of my age hit me and the fact that I would only go down hill from there gave me the nudge to a better life style. I took up running and I attended the gym for weight training the off days of my 3 and 6 mile runs. I felt great! I was in the best shape of my LIFE! At 30! I was so happy with the results. I wore through a few pair of shoes. And each time I threw away a pair I was thrilled for the miles I would be putting on the new pair. Then I moved half way across the world. My life completely changed and so did my new found love of running and weight training. I haven't been out since I left Okinawa. It has been over 7 months. My running shoes no longer go running. They peddle a bike to drop off my daughter at school. They walk to the dumpster. They go to the park. And they get out for a rare stroll with my family. But for the most part they sit. I think they are very sad. They are not used for the purpose they were created. I think they want to get out. I think they miss the pounding of the pavement. Those shoes were very important to me. I found purchasing new ones an adventure. I even find memories in them. Will I ever be able to make the time to take them out again and allow them to fill the measure of their creation?

My old red, white, and blue striped flip flops. Boy could those shoes tell stories! They remind me of summers in Okinawa. They remind me of my many trips to the beach with my daughters. Soaking up the warm sun on the white beaches. Getting soaked with salt water. I do believe if you were brave enough to smell them you'd smell the ocean. They still have a "crusty" feel to them from all the dried salt encrusted and dried into the material of the shoe. They remind me of the awesome tan line they left across my feet that would last all winter long (Okinawa winters are like fall in the Mid West to Eastern part of the US). When the day comes that those flip flops lose their flop I shall give them a memorial service before I ever so lovingly toss them in the dumpster.

I went on a mission for my church. I felt it necessary to purchase these really expensive very uncomfortable Doc Martin boots. Those boots did some winter walking all over various parts of the north west part of New York. They played in snow, shoveled snow, and met many people along the way. I had forgotten about these boots. I so rarely needed them. Until one day I made a new friend. She invited me to go horseback riding, which, by the way if you have not looked at my profile I love horses. I needed to have a pair of boots and was just about to go buy a pair of official riding boots when I remembered my good ol' heavy, expensive, painful Doc Martins. They would do just fine for their new purpose. So, these old boots that still have perfect soles are now covered in unmentionable stuff. I love these boots now. Do you know why? Because when I pull them out of the shed where I keep them because of the "stuff" completely covering them, I know that I am going to be on the back of a horse, enjoying one of my favorite things to do.

I have this pair of brown Mary Jane pumps. They are my most feminine pair of shoes. I feel like a lady in them. I feel tall, graceful, beautiful. They are more than that though. I only wear them to church. When I see them in my closet they remind me of how important it is to always look my very best for the sabbath day. They remind me to be reverent, to walk not run, to be quiet not loud. They remind me of the many Sundays I have worn them to church and have felt the spirit, not because of the shoes I was wearing (that would be silly) but because of where I wore them...the house of the Lord.

Last Christmas my husband gave me a pair of shoes. They are black and well, I really can't quite describe them. They are cute. They are fun. They are casual, yet can be dressed up a bit. They make me feel trendy and youthful.

Now, a few years ago my husband had to return to the US for work. While he was back in the US I told him he had to go shopping for me. He did a wonderful job purchasing me some cloths. To my surprise he bought me 2 pair of shoes that are by far my "sexiest" shoes. I hardly ever wear them. But when I do I feel like a million dollars. One is a pair of high heeled black leather boots. The other is a pair of high heeled sandals that have skinny black leather straps across my toe region and these straps are gathered together with a leather flower type ornament. Why don't I wear these shoes very often you may wonder? First, I don't usually feel like a very "sexy" person. Second, I really do not have places to wear these shoes, nor do I have the right outfits to coordinate with them. I do wear them occasionally and when I do I look good, I feel good, and my husband loves it!

The last pair of shoes I want to mention are the shoes that inspired me to write this post. They are the shoes that brought me the most emotion at the conference. They are the shoes that cause me the most pain. They are the shoes that the speaker was most likely referring to in her analogy. These shoes are black. They are plain. They have gel insoles that I bought to purposely put in these shoes. When I see these shoes in my closet I dread the moment I have to put them on. On the weekend I hid them deep in my closet so I can forget I even own them. When the the time comes to put them on I slowly bend over, I look at them through the hanging cloths that are hiding them, I pause for a moment to remind myself of why I have to put them on. I reach for them, take them to the bed, and slowly put them on. The moment my foot is fully immersed within the depths of these horrid shoes my feet begin to swell and ache. But there is something that swells and aches far more than my feet, and that is my heart. Sound pathetic? NO! These are my work shoes. When this good lady was talking to us about embracing the season we are individually in I could only think of my family. Working away from my home is one of the hardest things I have ever done. Being a mother is all I have ever wanted to be. Making the choice to go back to work was beyond difficult for me. I enjoy my job, but I much more enjoy my calling in this life, which is to be the best darn Mother possible. So, when this good lady spoke of embracing "my" season, I was humbled. Together my husband and I had prayed about the best solution for our family during the next 3 years while he completes his Physics Degree. The solution was not just difficult to embrace but it was also the only "inspired" solution, and that was for me to support my husband. I have struggled with it from day one. And now, today, I have made the conscious decision to reach for those shoes with less resentment and more faith. I will put them on and know that the physical discomfort that comes from them is temporary and that the work I do will have lasting effects not on my physical body but on my family's stability in the future. I will hold my head high, lift my spirit, trust in the Lord and know that I am embracing, in its fullness, the season I am in.

Priceless

This evening my boss gave me probably the best compliment of my life. She told me that I was priceless. I do believe my heart skipped a beat. That sort of compliment doesn't just get thrown around. I especially have never received such an honored compliment. I was in disbelief! I still am and continue to ponder on it. How is it possible for someone to go from feeling worthless to being "priceless" (take notice of my last entry)? All I have ever wanted was to truly be "priceless". Have I finally achieved that? I don't know, but I sure hope I am close. I think everyone has a desire to be remembered, loved. For some reason ever since I was a kid I have wanted to do something, say something that I will be remembered by. So far I have only been remembered for maybe the not so positive or unpleasant things I said or did. With time will I be able to replace those memories with "priceless" memories? I hope so.

What do I find priceless?
My daughters' laughs.
When I come home late at night I go give them hugs while they are sleeping; I stop to hold their hands and notice how they are growing so much yet still seem so small; the touch of their hand in mine, all soft and limp.
My husband's warm body in the bed each night I come home.
A much needed hug.
The other day I bought a set of 16 books, "Teachings of the Prophets", they were very pricey...the words...PRICELESS.
Hearing my daughters playing together.
Hearing my daughters all on their own communicate with each other hurt feelings and express apologies followed with a long embrace. (mind you they are 6 and 4!)
My marriage to my best friend.
When my husband giggles and grins like a young boy having done the most mischievous of acts.

If I find those things priceless, which they truly are, how can I compare with that?

Funny things kids say

Yesterday my youngest, practically 5 years old, fell asleep in the car just before picking up Emily, my oldest of 6, from school. I didn't want to wake the royal cuteness so I let her sleep for a bit in the car. When it was time to leave the car and meet Emily I shut off the car and woke Lydia. She stretches and says, "I was sleeping so quiet because I didn't want to wake myself up". I just giggled. I giggle again just thinking of her. She has always said the funniest things. She is my silly nut. I have kept a little journal over the past few years of the funny things she has said and done, including Emily as well. I enjoy reading back over the entries. Someday those pages will be FAMOUS. OK, maybe not to the world, but definitely within our family.

I will be periodically posting some of those entries from that journal here on my blog. I think it will be fun for you to read. It will give you a good giggle. If I can figure out how to post videos I will one day post the most absolutely hilarious video in all of kid-Dom.

So enjoy the "childlike" entries and feel like a kid already won't you?

Hopefully More Wise

Yesterday was my 31st birthday. I can hardly believe it. I spoke to my sister just now and she reminded me of "names" I had called her when we were kids. I couldn't stop laughing at my creative cruelty! I completely and utterly could not remember this. I find my memory very interesting. I remember some things as if they just happened, and then I hear stories about myself from other family and just find it hard to believe. Was I truly as rotten as memories recall? Obviously I was. The conclusion about bullies must be true. Bullies pick on others to make themselves look good, feel better, and take their minds off their own misery. I must have been a bully. I was rotten, mean, jealous, angry, and just down right screwed up. Whatever happened to me later in years to give me a clue is greatly appreciated. I cannot even pinpoint the exact experience, trial, or "brick", that really got the sense knocked into me. I don't think I was a bad person, just had a lot ideas about life completely backward and all confused. I chose to post this particular picture for many reasons. One, I just plain and simply love what I did to it. Purple is my favorite color and I love the blue lips, can't really say why. In all reality I feel this photo says a great deal about me. In reflecting on my life I have found I have always had this Dr Jekyll - Mr Hyde thing going on in me. Not in a psychotic way, but in a confused about who I am and who I should be kind of way. I had a friend once who told me that I had an inner wild child who was screaming to come out. I believed her and thought I should let her out. Numerous times throughout the history of Suzanna this "wild child" has escaped. And every time she does I feel evil, sick, angry, worthless, and many other unmentionable things. I felt unworthy of anything good. Especially during a particular year of being single. I felt that I would never be worth anything good. Boy was I ever so wrong. I am a very religious person and can only blame one "being" for this inner turmoil. I spoke with a brother once about an inner struggle. He point blank said, "say it isn't an issue and it won't be an issue". I have thought long and hard about that. The thing with this "being" that wants us to have miserable lives is this...all he needs is a crack in the window/door, and he is in. My brilliant brother took something I had always struggled with and seemed to turn this struggle into a "duh" kind of moment for me. Why had it taken me so long to understand such a basic concept as "he will have the power to bruise my heal and I will have the power to crush his head". Since that time there has only been one instance of this inner "wild child" coming out, the moment was brief, but it had such an effect on me that it made me sick, terrified, and I never want to experience that again. You need to understand something, when I say wild child it most likely is not what you may be thinking, and not to leave this up to your own imagination or anything, but in all honesty I cannot explain what that truly means. I know, but it is not necessary for you to know.

So, by turning 1 year older I have once again found this unexplainable urge to look upon my past and reevaluate who I am. I am a wife. I am a mother. I am a sister and daughter. I am a friend. I am a dreamer, a lover, a fighter (sounds like a song). I am complicated yet simple. I am rough and tough, I am soft and gentle.

Happy Birthday to ME!

Defacing

Shortly after moving to Boise Idaho I was waiting at a red light, enjoying a moment of peace, I decided to take the opportunity to soak up the view before me. It was spring and the mountains had a lovely soft green color covering them, which by the way is not present all year! What ever plant it is that covers the sides of the mountains here was in full bloom and it was beautiful. The sky was a crisp blue peaking just perfectly around large white clouds, allowing just the right amount of light to pass through and cast various shadows upon this landscape that stretched out before my eyes. Never had I seen such a sight. I have seen many beautiful landscapes, this one was new and unique to me. I had never seen high mountain desert before and believe me it is a unique sort of beauty. Even in the summer when the hills look dusty brown they have an interesting beauty to them, you might be thinking "ugh!", but it really is not. The trees that grow at the top of the mountains stand out and draw your eyes upward, noticing the contrast of the dry, dusty brown against the brilliant blue sky, it really is a beautiful sight. So while sitting and truly enjoying myself, but also dreading the fact that I'd be spending the rest of the beautiful day inside working, I began looking around taking in the view of the small, but growing city. And then there right smack in front of me was one of the most upsetting and unbelievable sights I'd ever seen. I looked out my driver side window and toward the ground, some beautiful white wild flowers were growing right along side the road and they had caught the corner of my eye. To my utter disgust and even surprise there next to these beautiful wild flowers was the largest, most insane, disgusting, mound of cigarette butts I'd ever seen. You couldn't have swept the gutters of a down town city street collecting cigarette butts and have created as large a mound! I was outraged. It was as if someone had a 5 gallon bucket in their car where they tossed all their cigarettes upon completion of inhaling the awful stuff, and then opened their door and just dumped it! It should be illegal! Oh yeah that's right, it is! It is called "littering". It should be a commandment, Thou shalt not litter and deface this beautiful earth that has been given to you! I then looked at this scene in a new way. In a really demented way I saw it as a form of art. I wished I had my camera so I could photograph it and then mail it to all the save the earth'ers, all the anti-tobacoo'ers and all the in between'ers. My photograph, my work of art, would be called, "defacing".

Elderly

Last night a guest checked in. He was a very patient and soft spoken individual. Upon completion of checking in he asked me to assist him in bringing in his mother. I abliged. I personally have not spent much time around the elderly of this world. And to be quite honest they make me a bit uncomfortable. Don't get me wrong, not all elderly make me feel this way, only those that are slipping in their minds and bodies. This was quite an awkward situation for me. The woman obviously was having a very difficult time manuvering her body and especially her feet. She just could seem to get them to move. I saw her lips ever so slowly moving to form words but could not make them out. The son, whom I had checked into the hotel, was holding onto her firmly and coaching her even more firmly. He was a very strong individual, not just physically. He did not let her quit, as badly as she begged. I really had absolutely no clue what to do to help out aside from holding doors open. While standing there feeling completely awkward and out of place I realized what the old woman was mummbling. "Help me!", "why won't you help me", "you're not doing anything", "she's just standing there", and again "heeeeeelp me". And mind you all this was in a very hushed ton. I was absolutely clueless as to HOW to help. Her son, continued coaching her and occassionally replied "Mother, she is helping, now move your feet". That did of course make me feel better but I still could not get over the way the woman looked at me and spoke to and about me. Seriously, what did she want me to do...carry her? This whole experience really got me thinking about the elderly, their caregivers and my own personal reality of aging. I have an uncle who had cared for my Grandparents for years and has taken upon himselve great burdens, even now that they have passed on. He and his family are amazing people. I have always admired this family for their willingness to serve, even during times of great personal trial they are there ready to go above and beyond. So, in conclusion my heart goes out to all you children, all you caregivers of the elderly. I admire your strength of character, body, mind, and last but not the least, strength of spirit. I truly believe it takes a great person to care for their sick parents.

Hello World

I have decided, due to some encouragement from 2 sisters, to finally write. I think they meant in a more professional way, but every artist, author, dentist, or teacher has to start somewhere. So, as my first entry I want to commend all you out there who have or had dreams and are accomplishing or already accomplished them. Way to go! You inspire me. Dreams should never be set aside. Before anything great is completed it has been dreamt. So all you dreamers out there...keep dreaming.