Sometimes I Scare Myself

In August, I have committed to completing a Sprint Triathalon.

I AM SCARED!

But determined.

Nothing makes me more determined than being afraid of something.

So, I will bike 20 kilometers, swim half a mile, and run a 5K.

I have been running since October, and I have just recently started my swim training. Tomorrow, my good friend Bethany and I are going to do a trial run of our bike/run/swim.

I AM SCARED!

But excited.

And nothing makes me more excited than attempting what I am afraid of.

Makes me think of this poem by Maya Angelou:


LIFE DOESN’T FRIGHTEN ME
By: Maya Angelou

Shadows on the wall
Noises down the hall
Life doesn’t frighten me at all

Bad dogs barking loud
Big ghosts in a cloud
Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

Mean old Mother Goose
Lions on the loose
They don’t frighten me at all

Dragons breathing flame
On my counterpane
That doesn’t frighten me at all.

I go boo
Make them shoo
I make fun
Way they run
I won’t cry
So they fly
I just smile
They go wild
Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

Tough guys in a fight
All alone at night
Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

Panthers in the park
Strangers in the dark
No, they don’t frighten me at all.

That new classroom where
Boys pull all my hair
(Kissy little girlsWith their hair in curls)
They don’t frighten me at all.

Don’t show me frogs and snakes
And listen for my scream,
If I’m afraid at all
It’s only in my dreams.

I’ve got a magic charm
That I keep up my sleeve,
I can walk the ocean floor
And never have to breathe.

Life doesn’t frighten me at all
Not at all
Not at all
Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

Brave Girl,

Gabbi

What's in YOUR desk?

I have this little Emergency Preparedness kit in my desk. A small stash of all things MUST HAVE in an emergency.

Here is the list in clockwise.

1. A small bottle of hair spray for when my hair becomes unruly...

2. Baby wipes, for those days when my makeup goes hideously awry and I MUST. REMOVE. NOW.

3. Generic Acetaminophen (and yes, I had to pull the bottle out to be sure I spelled (spelt) it correctly)

4. SMASHBOX lip gloss, totally worth the $20

5. Ulta eye shadow

6. ELF face powder, worth more than the $1 it cost at Target

7. a hair clippy, again for the unruly hair

8. Birthday candles, you know, for those birthday emergencies.

9. Ponytails!

10. Great Lash! My freaking favorite make up product EVER

11. ELF face color, for use as a blush or lipstick, I love versatility, and again a DOLLAR!!!

12. Nail clipper, I hate hang nails

13. Nail file, I hate jagged nails worse than hang nails

14. Extra lipstick

As you can see, all of my emergencies involve hair, make up, nails and celebration. If the apocalypse comes, I will at least have make up on and will sing you Happy Birthday with candles and all.

What's in your desk?

Ever prepared,

Gabbi

Brave enough?

I really want to be brave enough to take this picture of myself.




This year has been the year that I come to terms with my perfectly imperfect body.

Some have loved it, others have hated it.

But I promise myself to love my body no matter what.

To love my body as I want my children to love their own bodies.

To be kind to myself in every way.

Am I brave enough to take a picture and then label the amazing things my body has done?

I hope I am,

Gabbi

2011....Post Mortem

Things I have discovered in 2011:

I LOVE make up.

I am totally tasteless.

I prefer my own homemade laundry soap.

I am not a church goer.

Relationships scare the crap out of me.

Pinterest. Need I say more?

I will try just about anything.

I get exactly what I need at just the right time...ALWAYS.

I am a warrior when it comes to grieving.

I am brave and smart and funny.

I have abandonment issues, but they are manageable.

Nail polish and lip gloss are two things I will NEVER be able to live without.

My children bring me more joy than anything else.

A song made up on the spot, is the best.

Sung in opera style, everything sounds important.


Thank goodness I survived,

Gabbi

Not Struggling with Grief

So that we all do not think my life is perfect and wonderful…my new beau has decided that I do not fit his body standard and has decided to move on.

Whoa! Talk about putting every one of my fears of inadequacies right out there and making them so very real. My chest burns and I am crying a lot. There is nothing to do for it except give it time and space and to take my own damn advice and put it to work. Focusing on the questions

In this moment are all of my needs met?
Through my sadness and pain, can I still be kind?
Can I recognize that my feelings of self loathing and unworthiness are not FACTS?
Can I know deep inside that feelings do not define me?
Can I accept that they hurt and that they will pass?
Is it possible to accept pain and not struggle with it?

The answer to all of those questions is YES.

All of my needs are met. I can be kind. I am having feelings that are painful, but they are not who I am. These feelings will pass. And most important, I have no desire to struggle with my pain making it worse. I think this is the key. I used to struggle with pain and fight it and do anything to not feel it. Now, I accept the pain and realize it is a part of the process, not a particularly enjoyable part, but an important part nonetheless. Struggling with it only makes it worse, prolongs it and doesn’t allow me to grow.

Buddha says “Life is suffering”. This is true, but it is not all that life is. Through my suffering I am living life to its fullest, in a heartbreaking way, but living is heartbreaking. I know that the suffering is what makes the wonderful parts of life wonderful. Suffering makes sitting with my son while he sings little made up songs that bring a smile to my face even in my despair, a beautiful moment that I appreciate fully. I know that little Sampson is bringing me joy and the knowledge that I can still smile and feel joy and I will be ok.

I choose to reject the negative feelings about my body. Michael’s truth does not have to be my truth. I can love who I am, knowing that I cared for him honestly and fully, accepted him exactly where he was at in his life. I know that when I prayed for him last night to “Be safe, strong, content and live his life with ease” that I was heartfelt in my prayer and blessing of him.

I refuse to analyze his motives or the meaning behind any of this. It does not change what is. It does not change who I am at my core. I will still live a life of lovingkindness, I will still be brave in my endeavors, I will still be funny and smart and my energy will still sparkle. I will still meditate and imagine myself as a shining ball of energy radiating love and goodness to the world. I will still work to affect positive change in my world.

I may run a little more. To keep the endorphins going and maybe a small tiny bit so that my body becomes what Michael wanted, and I will hopefully, not love him anymore.

Still the same girl,

Gabbi

Expectations VS. Reality: Christmas Edition

Sampson spent Christmas Eve with his dad, I went to pick him up in the evening with the following expectations:

Upon arriving home, Sampson would take a nice bath, hop out of the tub, he and Grace would open their Christmas Eve gift (which is always pajamas), we would snuggle up read Twas the Night Before Christmas, as we always do, and then cuddle, eat popcorn and watch Christmas movies. Once the kids fell asleep, I would sneak away, wrap the last few gifts and neatly stack the gifts under the tree, I could then crawl in bed and slumber sweetly until my children awoke with cheers of joy that Christmas was here!

Ahhh. The joy and peace of it all.

Reality:

I picked Sam up from his dads (a nice 2.5 hour journey roundtrip), he fell asleep on the car ride home, woke up an evil little bugger. Screamed that he hated Grace and I and ever since he was born he never wanted to live with us, he only wanted to live with his dad. to which I replied "Hey Smartie, your dad lived with US when you were born." Sam's confused look look let me know he had zero recollection of that, and then he screamed "I HATE YOU ANYWAYS."

There was no bath, just screaming and tantrum throwing while Grace and I scarfed down dinner. Grace said "Why does he have to be like that everytime he gets back from his dads?" Which then began the whole conversation of how going from one parents home to the other is hard, Sam is conflicted about wanting to be with BOTH of his parents, and generally just adding to the misery of the evening layered on top of the backdrop of Sam screaming in the living room.

I forced monster child into bed, where he prompltly cuddled in my lap, and said he loved me more than the number of fingers on his hands, and fell asleep in all of his dirty clothes glory....right after I fell asleep.

SHIT!

I woke up to Sam asking me if Santa came, to which I had no answer because I fell asleep before him and knew I hadn't put any gifts under the tree.

SHIT!

Thank god for Miss Grace who I heard shuffling about downstairs and had placed all the gifts under the tree seconds before Sam came downstairs. I LOVE THAT GIRL!

I quickly wrapped the remainder of Grace's gifts...ok, all of Graces gifts, plunked them under the tree and we got to opening!

The kids were joyful and happy and loved their gifts.

I remind myself regularly, that expectations can ruin the true beauty of the moment as it unfolds. If I hold to tightly to my expectations, I miss the wonder of the moment. I rob myself of the true experience of life.

That evening we had the entire family over played games, ate lasagna and talked and laughed. My small house was busting at the seams in a very, very good way.

The energy from my amazing family is strong, lively and perfect. We are so blessed to have so many young adults, babies and wise elders.

It was a rocky start; didn't exactly fit my expectation, but was perfect just as it was.

Fitting myself to the moment,

Gabbi

Cure for Ear Infection?

So, I have an ear infection. This is upsetting to me because I AM A GROWN UP. I firmly believe grown ups should be immune from ear infections. I totally blame Monster Jam and wearing those pesky ear plugs. The "Auditory Protection" clearly failed me.

I had read once, don't ask me where because I maybe just made it up and then thought I read it somewhere, that most ear infections will clear up all on their own without antibiotics.

If you can stand the pain.

Sounds like a challenge to me. And since we all know, me and a challenge...mmm hmmm!

Then my mama called and I whined about how much my ear hurt.

And since we all also know that will try just about anything, it should not surprise you that when my mother suggested microwaving an entire onion and sticking it on my ear, I jumped right on the onion wagon.

Here's the skinny: you take an onion, peel it, put it in the microwave for 3 minutes, stick the onion in a coffee cup, put the cup to your owie ear and it is supposed to draw the infection out.

Please note:

I AM NOT A MEDICAL DOCTOR.

I HAVE ZERO SCIENCE BEHIND THIS THEORY.

ALL I GOT IS THAT MY COUSIN TOLD MY AUNT, WHO TOLD MY MOM THAT SHE GOOGLED IT AND IT WORKS AND THEN MY MOM TOLD ME.

That is like the word of God as far as I am concerned.

But DO NOT DO IT YOURSELF BASED ON MY BLOG POST. Do your own research people, have your mom call your aunt who talked to your cousin who googled it.

This experiement required a trip to the grocery store because as if I have an actual onion in my house, and for some reason my mom said Onion POWDER would not work...LAME.

So, I went to the store, choose a pleasantly plump, but not to plump, onion so as it would still fit in a coffee cup. Got home, ear throbbing, I quickly cut the skin off the onion, popped it right in the microwave.

Three minutes later, I grabbed a steaming and hissing onion out of the microwave, plunked it as fast as I could into the coffee cup because it was like a burning hot lava ball and put the coffee cup to my ear. Close, but not to close, because I sure didn't want the lava ball to touch my ear!

Right away I could feel the steam from the onion working its way into my inflamed and throbbing ear canal. It actually felt kind of good. As the cup cooled off a little I could put it closer to my ear. The warm steam was soothing and I could hear some fluid moving in my ear...I have no idea if this was the steam or nasty infection goo, but either way, it felt like progress.

Now, I should mention that my entire house reeked of onion. Not good French Onion Soup onion, just onion, boiled onion. The kind of smell that gets into your clothes and your skin and won't wash off for anything.

Yep. That is a drawback. BUT, the fact that my ear drum stopped throbbing for the 20 minutes I held the onion to my ear, well, I can handle the stank for that kind of relief.

It really did help, I was thinking, "my mom is the smartest woman in the world". So, imagine my dismay, when my mom called to ask me how it worked and sounded completely shocked that it helped and said:

Mom: "OOOH I gotta call your aunt and tell her it actually worked!"

Me: "wait. What?"

dial tone

Hmmm, well anyways, it did provide some relief from the pain and I actually got decent sleep.

Today, it doesn't seem to matter how long I was in the shower or how many times I wash my hands, I reek like onion. Not good French Onion Soup Onion, just onion, boiled onion.

My ear is throbbing again, I wish I had bought more than one onion.

I can't stand the pain long enough for the infection to clear itself up. I am a wussy.

Doctor's Office at 8:40 am tomorrow,

Gabbi

Angels in Disguise

Growing up, I was a Jehovah's Witness. As such, I didn't celebrate Christmas or any other holiday for that matter, including my birthday until I was 13. Holidays had been so villified in my mind from the time I was born that I still remember the fear I had when my big sister Shelly and her husband Wally, brought me my first birthday cake and first birthday gift. They gave me a gold bracelet, and I still remember the excitement laced with guilt I felt while eating that white cake with the sugary frosting. Even with the fear, it is a great memory for me and I love my sister for that guilty pleasure.

As I said, holidays, especially Christmas were demonized in my mind. I remember being in Kindergarten and my mom giving me strict instructions to NOT tell the other kids at school that their parents were LIARS and that Santa Claus was fake, and that Christmas ISN'T EVEN Jesus' birthday, you bunch of morons, and that Jehovah God is in Heaven right now, shaking his head in disappointment over the greed and selfishness that is done in HIS SON'S NAME!

Oh yea, I was all ready to tell them little 5 year olds all about their "GREAT HOLIDAY" and that don't you know Christmas time has the highest suicide rate more than any other time of year???

Yep, in kindergarten I knew all of that and absolutely would have stood on the craft table and announced it to the whole class, if my mom hadn't threatened me with a major spanking if I did it. Seriously, I did not want to be bloodguilty (bloodguilty: a term used by Jehovah's Witnesses to describe your guilt for not spreading the true word of God) for all of those darn kids in my class for not telling them the "truth" when I had the chance. And yes, in kindergarten I was well acquaninted with the term bloodguilty.

So, the first few years of celebrating Christmas were hard and scary. I had to overcome years of conditioning before I could finally relax and be okay with celebrating the holiday. It still is not my favorite holiday, I am more of a Halloween gal. But, now that I have children and we have our traditions, such as decorating the tree and each of us getting a new ornament every year, opening one gift on Christmas Eve which is always pajamas and then reading Twas the Night Before Christmas, I really do enjoy it.

The other thing I am thankful for, is that because I was raised with such a negative connotation around Christmas, I really do my best to see all the good and wonder that comes out of Christmas time. This season really can open people's hearts and allows them to display their generosity and kindness and much of the time no one even knows about it. I think it is important to share those stories and so here are two stories I witnessed myself:

Monster Truck Madness:

This past weekend we had a family outing to MONSTER JAM a monster truck show. Sampson had been talking about it for weeks and I was so excited to take them. Sitting in the row ahead of us was a man with his two little boys, one was probably 5 and the other 2 years old. The dad was so excited to be there and I heard him tell the guy sitting next to hm more than once that he thought he was more excited than his boys were to be there. It was fun for me just to see how happy he was.

Through the course of the show they had gotten food and drinks and his boys were so well behaved, which I admired after my own son had a major meltdown in the hallway. Darn the NO NAP afternoon! Towards the end of the show a vendor comes up the aisle with bags of cotton candy and foam hats shaped like monster trucks. So the 5 year old asks his dad for it, and the dad waves the vendor over and says "how much is it?" the vendor says "$15 bucks". At that point I almost screamed RAPE, but I held my tongue. So the boy goes to the end of the aisle and stands by the vendor, dad starts counting his money, he only has $14 in cash....

Dad walks over to the vendor says "Man, I only got $14." The vendor says "Can't do it, buddy." and walks away. The son looks at his dad and the dad says "Hey Buddy, I was a dollar short, but I promise when we leave we will get you something else cool." The son takes it in stride and says "Ok", he looked a little disappointed, but handled it amazingly well. I was so impressed, and then was mad at myself for not bringing cash, and then mad at myself for not getting a dollar from someone else we were with...and while these thoughts are going through my mind, this big kinda scary looking guy comes leaning over me, and hands a bag of cotton candy with the hat to the dad, and says "This is for your boy." The dad says,"Oh no, that's ok." And the guy says "Take it, it's for your boy, he should have it."

I almost burst into tears right there. This guy was a big old biker man with the crabbiest look on his face, and yet he had a damn heart of gold, he was an angel in disguise that night at Monster Jam. It was so touching and I had to share it.

So to you Monster Truck Angel: Thank you for helping me to appreciate the Christmas Spirit and the beauty of kindness even more!

American Girl:

This story came from my sister last night while we sat at my mom's kitchen table. My sister works with a guy who is a tough ex-cop, gruff and rough around the edges and is having some tough times, just like a lot of people. Well, he has a 5 year old daughter who wants an American girl doll for Christmas. He and his wife were so proud to go to the mall and buy her that doll. He happens to overhear his daughter talking to her best friend (who is the daughter of his wifes friend), and she says "I asked Santa for an American Girl Doll" her bestie says "I asked for an American Girl doll last year, but Santa couldn't bring me one. So, if Santa doesn't bring you one, don't be to sad."

Well, that did not sit right with gruff ex-cop dad. He talks to his wife and says they have to buy this girl an American Girl doll for Christmas. The wife tells him, there is no way they can afford ANOTHER American Girl doll, they are struggling as it is and it is just to much. Dad says, "Maybe I can get my boss to buy the doll." So, he approaches his boss, who tells him as kindly as she can, that she has already donated a bunch and so she just can't do it.

But, since he has been helping her with some other stuff, she had already written him a check for $200, and she gives him the check.

Dad takes the unexpected check, spends $100 of it on that American Girl Doll, tells his wife he had gotten an extra hundred and that his boss had bought the doll. He didn't want his wife to know what he had done.

The wife manages to find out anyway and says you could have told me. But, gruff ex-cop dad doesn't want the glory.

Well, Angel-in-disguise as a gruff ex-cop dad, you are getting it anyways because that is beautiful.

Seeing kindness all around me,

Gabbi