today’s star obsessed society

Maybe I’m just getting older, or maybe I’m more conservative than I thought, but I’m having trouble lately really caring why Brittany shaved her head. Or why brangelina didn’t show up to the oscars. I wouldn’t have even known this if it weren’t for Yahoo posting it on their home page today, because I DIDN’T watch it last night. I knew all the winners would be in the news as well as the fashion do’s and don’t’s.

I do like certain stars and will watch their films. For example, I adore Sean Connery and will see anything he is in. I think Tom Selleck is the most humble person and can state that with clarity, because I’ve stood and chatted with him. And I think Matthew McConaughey is nice scenery. SO there are a few select people that I admire because of their talent or their persona. HOWEVER let me clarify that I think the glorious adoration that most of these celebs receive is out of control. They have jobs just like we do and put their pants on every day like the rest of us. The only difference is….their’s are designer jeans and were probably free b/c the designer wants their name plastered on their well toned behinds, while the rest of us pay an arm and a leg to find just one pair to fit our less than tone behinds.

I do not hold any cynicism toward Hollywood. I think it’s great that we have talented actors, who compete daily in the sea of the media. I certainly couldn’t keep up with that lifestyle…constantly being under the microscope. They have to worry every minute for every move they make, incase it shows up on some tabloid somewhere. And it probably will.

I guess I am aggravated at the general public for holding celebreties up like gods, to be worshipped. It just seems to be so out of hand in the last 5 years. I don’t even get real news anymore…it’s all focused on Hollywood and the latest super couple scandal. I just think we all could use a little break, don’t you?

The miracle of a child

Every child is a blessing. A gift God bestows upon us to shape into a responsible adult. A child to protect, love, and provide for. That child is helpless without us. I know every loving mom out there, doesn’t know how she got by before having kids. Personally for me, I can’t imagine my life without my child and possible future children-if that’s God’s will.

My husband and I tried for only a short year to have children, before we went to a fertility specialist. We just wanted to be proactive — to see if we were both capable of bearing children. We were both young and healthy, and I never imagined I’d recieve the most horrible news a female could have dropped in her lap. After running a few tests, the top fertility specialist in the state told us that between the my husband and me—we would most likely never conceive on our own. He laid out some fertility solutions, and followed up with, “Even with treatment, chances would be slim that you would conceive.” Wow, talk about black and white. It’s not that I don’t love my doctor, but he didn’t deliver the news with any heart. He just laid it out there.

I left so heavy hearted and couldn’t believe how incomplete I felt. I couldn’t have children? What kind of woman was I anyway?
My tenderhearted man, putting my needs before his, laid his hand on my leg in our car. He turned to me, putting his own emotions aside, and simply said, “Don’t worry. This is the last mother’s day you’re going to spend alone.” That was in May and Mothers Day was a week away.

A few weeks after getting past the initial shock of my own fertility issues, a friend called to tell me she was pregnant. It just didn’t seem fair! All I could respond with was tears and sobbed in the phone. I am sure she was less than enthused at my response. To this day, we don’t talk anymore. Even after many efforts on my part to reach out to her. I don’t blame her. I was being selfish. When I should have had enthusiasm for her and her husband, I cried my heart out. I didn’t mean to…it was involuntary. My logical side wasn’t winning that battle…my emotional side was.

That night after her news, I pulled my Bible out. It hadn’t been read in awhile. I just happened to open it up to the story of Sarah. It was like God was picking out that exact scripture for me. He was speaking to my heart. I closed my eyes, and prayed hard. Although I had been torn, I had hope and prayed, “Dear God, if you can get a 90 year old ‘barren’ woman pregnant. You can surely get a healthy 30 year old woman pregnant.” I gave him my faith and my future.

Within weeks of this prayer, we found we were expecting. We made a doctor’s appt at my general practician’s office to get a blood test, after trying a home pregnancy test that showed positive. I didn’t want to make an appt with the doctor, who told us we weren’t able to conceive, until I was absolutely sure. That initial doctor’s appointment happened to fall on our wedding anniversary. Looking back, it was another sign of God’s love. He chose our anniversary to confirm our pregnancy.

I couldn’t wait to set up my first appt at the OBGYN. When we told our ‘fertility specialist’ that we were pregnant…his jaw dropped wide open. He asked incrediuously, “How?”

I responded that God had the last word!!

hiding from your hurt

My last post was not very uplifting, as I promised this page would be. I apologize for that, but also feel that even the most positive thinkers have the right to get upset from time to time. I’m one of those that take a long time to ruffle, but when it happens stand back and let me go. I recover pretty quickly.

My mother once told me that in the 6th grade, when we we’re living in Alabama, I came home really upset and with a broken heart. My boyfriend of the month (I’ll never forget him–I thought I was in love), broke up with me. I flew in from the bus stop crying, told her I didn’t want to talk to anyone, and ran into my walk-in closet to cry. After about 30 minutes, I slowly opened the door to an apprehensive mother and told her I was okay and it was over. She said that was a picture of who I was. A survivor, who bounced back really fast. Did I really though?

Throughout life, we all face curve balls. Some we catch and throw back. Some totally catch us by surprise and it takes a little while to recover. And…some we don’t even see coming…they hit us hard! I, too, have had a few of all. As a survivor of PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder), I am glad I’ve had a strong support system to get through the worst of what life has to offer.

I was what most therapists would call a ‘stuffer’. I kept all my feelings inside. I was going to be okay — no matter what. I threw myself in that closet in my head, and shoved all my emotions down. What people couldn’t see…they couldn’t ask about. Right?

After a pretty emotional time in my sister’s life, my emotional flood gates flew open. I couldn’t put a band-aid on my hurts anymore. In classic form, it took her divorce to make me face my problems. I realized I needed help and didn’t know how to handle all the emotions throwing themselves up in my face.

They say that those that have PTSD don’t even know it. They walk around in life, with normal pretenses and then one day something happens around them that makes them break. For example, a survivor of the OKC bombing thought he had recovered nicely from the horrible attack on his country, until one day he was just found wandering downtown. He had a slight mental break due to something else insignifacant that happened 10 years later.

Here is today’s thought (to make a long story short):

Don’t be afraid of counseling! Our person is made up of our experiences. However you got hurt in life will always haunt you, even if it’s at the subconscious level. And at the age of your trauma…you will be stuck at emotionally. You won’t learn adult coping skills until you face what hurt you as a child or teens.

Now the fact that my heart was broken in the 6th grade isn’t what scarred me! 🙂 That was just an example of how I handled issues. I hid from my feelings at an early age, and told everyone I was okay. Does that sound familiar to anyone out there?

Accepting help does not make you weak. It allows you the strength to be a whole person. How could that not make you stronger as an individual? As a mom? As a husband? As a wife? I see so many people use their hurt to hurt those around them.

A friend of mine was telling me about his wife the other day. She’s a woman, who was abandoned by her father. She uses her anger and resentment toward her dad to acuse her husband of not being there for her. Her husband may try as hard as he can to be what she needs, but he’ll never make it to an unrealistic goal. He can’t give what his wife needs, until she realized that her own issues are stressing the situation.

Anyone out there stuck in life. Stuck in place…not moving forward but lost in the past. If you’re wondering why you can’t get past certain thoughts or feelings…. please reach out! You can become whole again from whatever trauma you faced. If you’re not comfortable asking a therapists or psychologists for an appointment, call your pastor. Find someone that you can own up to with what you’re feeling. Telling someone is the first step to healing.

I had a lot of baby steps forward and a lot of falls back, but if it weren’t for counseling I wouldn’t have found “ME” again. I couldn’t peel back all these layers and find who I was. I learned how let out my feelings, instead of stuffing them. I wouldn’t have moved past what happened to me. I can actually type or say ‘date rape’ now with out flipping out! Yes, it happened! Yes, I acknowledge it! Yes, I love myself! And yes, I’m worthy of love from a wonderful man, my hubbie.

I want you all to know if God hadn’t had been front and center in my life throughout my life, I wouldn’t have survived at all. Even through the event itself, and the way I ignored what happened for 15 years…..if Christ hadn’t been holding me up…I wouldn’t be here today. I wouldn’t be who I am today.

Respect For Simple Etiquette

Every day I am amazed at how the simple things, that are signs of good breeding, go unobserved. As a young single girl, back in the day, the door was held for me often by those that thought themselves gentlemen. I say, thought themselves for this reason:
As I started a family and became a mom, I noticed a transition in the respect held for the simple gestures.

A new mom, struggling to juggle the diaper bag, bulky stroller, and demanding child, I ventured out solo after a few weeks into motherdom and noticed how different the manners of those around me. No longer did I get doors held open for me. In fact, the more I took note of it…doors were held open less when I was with my stroller than when I was by myself. This amazed me! Obviously, here is a new mom trying to fit a big stroller through a heavy door, and men and women alike actually hurried to get a head of me…not to hold the door open but to walk in the door before me.

Now I know that sounds kind of harsh, so let me clarify. There were a few kind gestures from strangers now and then, but I noticed they were all women. Women now were opening doors for me! Wow, what a switch. Now, four years into motherdom….I find myself making sure I open doors for those mothers struggling to get it all together and through the doors at the mall or the grocery store. It makes my heart feel good when I hear a grateful, “thank you!”

This email isn’t meant to bash anyone, as that’s not me at all. I’m just trying to make people think a little bit. For example, last night my husband took me to dinner and a concert. I have a bum knee right now and was needing to sit down. I looked around the waiting area at Red Lobster, where we had a 30 minute wait, and noticed that most of the men were sitting down. Men sitting down, where there were women with child and women beyond their years standing!!! It make my blood boil! This was not the first time I had been to this same restaurant where this happened.

I know I’m only 34. To some of you that may seem really old. To some of you that may seem really young. Either way, I amazed at those around me. I was raised that men should open the door for ladies and give up their seats to a female, young and old. I realize that it’s very old school in thinking, but it’s just common courtesy!

Last night, there was a split second for me to make a dash to an open seat to continue my wait for dinner. I saw an open seat and knew others were going to take it if I didn’t grab the chance. There were about 3 men trying to angle it for it as well. It was like musical chairs with a vengence. I hobbled as fast as I could, and almost sat. I looked up and there was a 65 plus year old lady. I sat my bottom on it for one second to claim it—kinda like licking the home made roll to keep your sibling from eating it. Then I stood up to offer it to this older lady, who’s eyes lit up when I motioned her to sit. I made my way back to my husband, and said a little too loud to who ever could hear, “There’s no way I could take that seat, when there was a lady that needed it worse than I did. That would just be rude!”

I don’t get angry very often, but those in society who are just clueless to common courtesies get me every time. If you’re one, who don’t recognize your surroundings, please take note:

Men–Please give up your seats if there is a woman standing and waiting for anything–whether it be the subway, a restaurant, or a medical wait room. At least make the offer, so if a woman doesn’t want to sit…she can make the decision and appreciate your good manners.

Young women—ditto for you when it comes to relinquishing your seat for older women, who have paved the way for you.

And remember if you see a mom, trying to push her stroller through a heavy door. It’s a double task to open a door and push something big through it….do a good deed and get the door for her. It’s commom courtesy.

Our chart of Stars

My son is three and is so smart that convential ways of discipline don’t seem to work on him. He outsmarts my logical arguments. Timeouts don’t phase him, and a swift tap on the bottom would only make him laugh at me. I would never hit hard enough to hurt, as I’m not that kind of mother but I only tap tight enough to get his attention. I have only given him a swat 3 times in his little life, and we call it a tap. It’s no harder than a tap, and I don’t like to confuse it with spanking…because it’s not.

So what has been working at my home? A chart of activities and things that need to be worked on, with stars for recognition. I have a dry erase board on my refridge that will boast with stars for a ‘job well done’, or can allow stars to be erased for not listening or obeying mom & dad.

My son has to gain 35 stars in a weeks time to achieve a fun activity on the weekend. I know this is something so simple, but it really works. Most of you out there probably do this, so this concept is probably not new to you……my mom did it for me. BUT, most only add stars for the good behavior. In our house, my son has to work to keep those stars on the board. It’s the only way I’ve found to teach him the consequences of bad behavior, and the one thing he hates more than anything is getting a star erased off his chart of stars.

It has curbed any ‘terrible three’ episodes and has helped him earn fun outings like the zoo, or the omniplex, or a playzone…maybe even going to see the horses at a friend’s ranch. Our chart of stars have encouraged good behaviour and discouraged bad. I don’t know how long I can keep this thing going…but it’s working for now.

Adult on-set allergy awareness

I just wanted to reach out to all of you out there. A lot of us have had to deal with our children’s food allergies, with the hope that they out grow it by age 3. Most of them do, thankfully. My 3 year old finally got past his severe egg allergy. He had his first easter egg hunt this last easter. Next month will be his first birthday with a real cake from a bakery, vs. me baking an egg free one–that by the way isn’t always that tasty!

Let me take a second to make you aware of those of us adults can grow into them. Adult onset allergies is more and more common than rare. Six and a half years, my husband grew into his. He almost died a few times before we figured it out. We were completely caught off guard. Although there were warning signs, we were ignorant to them or what the potential danger they held.

He started off with large welts covering his body, that we thought was just a rash. I used Calamine lotion on his entire body…even behind his ears. This rash or severe welts would sporadically show up over a period of months, and didn’t seem to have anything that we could pin point to be the cause. As time went on, these bumps got smaller and smaller. We thought this was good…..they were getting smaller — so they were going away right? NO! The smaller outward appearance meant it was targeting the insides of my husband’s body.

One night we were out on the town, eating and drinking at an arts festival. My better half starting acting irrational and irritable. We were newlyweds so I figured I was seeing a new side to him, that I wasn’t aware of. By the time it took us to drive a few minutes from the event, he asked me to finish the drive home. He was too dizzy to continue.

As we switched places, I casually belted myself in to drive and looked at my dear sweet man. I was in for a huge shock. In just seconds, his neck had swollen out past his clavicle. His eyes were sunken in from the swelling in his face, and he wasn’t responding. Hysterical, I took off as fast as I could.

Thank the LORD, I was across the street from a hospital. I drove into oncoming traffic, ran around people at stop signs, into more oncoming traffic, and started beating his chest with my free hand. I kept beating my fist on his chest, screaming for God to help me. The children we never had flashed before our eyes as did the golden years we hadn’t reached. My husband was dying next to me and I had no control.

The ER wasn’t clearly marked, so I drove around the darn hospital a time too many before I found the entrance. Pulling in, I continued my honking and yelled for help. Thankfully, there were a few workers out smoking, who took off to our rescue.

They wouldn’t let me back to see him after I parked. Apparently they were having trouble tubing and bagging him, due to the complete swelling of his airway. God provided so many miracles that night by getting us there in one piece. I had to rely on Him one more time. I prayed hysterically that my hubbie would make it. I had no clue what was wrong.

After about 45 mintues, a nurse came out and told me that he was going to make it. She said if I’d gotten him there even 30 seconds later, than he wouldn’t have survived.

After his release a couple days later and a follow up doctor’s appointment, he was diagnosed with food allergies. Apparently it can happen to anyone and is more common in today’s society.

I feel it is important to make you all aware….

If you feel itchy or strange at all after eating, take note of it. If you’re dizzy or have skin reactions, catalog what you ate. GET to an allergest and get tested!

This was the most bizarre experience I’ve ever had, and if God hadn’t provided so many miracles that night…..I wouldn’t be happily married to my guy today. Please take note of this and be aware of the dangers of certain foods and how they affect you.

A special birthday gift

Man! I don’t know about most of you moms with 3 to 4 years olds, but I am amazed at mine’s progress in the last few days. He’s always been ahead of himself in development, but lately he’s so grown up. He’s saying things that blow me away and I can’t believe my little baby will be 4 in one short month.

For his birthday, he gave me a very specific list on who he wanted to invite. It ended up being about 16 kids. Yes, we’re inviting them all, but with one hitch. They’re not allowed to bring presents. I borrowed an idea from a good friend and wanted to share it with you:

Our family members can bring presents to him at his party, but all his little friends are being asked to bring dog food/treats. I know you all are thinking, “What?”….However, we’re going to donate all that food to the local chapter of the humane society. My little man has so many ‘things’ and toys that he doesn’t need anything. So I figured this would be my gift to him, by allowing him to learn civic mindedness. We’ll take all the dog food/treats he gets as donations at his party, and he’ll personally get to see how they’ll benefit those animals that are in need. He’s old enough to get the idea and is excited about it. He’s got such a big heart, and I hope he enjoys it!

As I write this, he’s racing ‘the cars game’ with his daddy and enjoying his bonding time with my wonderful hubby. All is good in our house today, and I’m so blessed.

Being a brat…thank you to my dad!

As a military brat, I was exposed to many different cultures and social structures. I’ve been the minority and the majority, depending on where I lived. Growing up, I was always asked, “Don’t you hate moving like that?” It always blew me away every time I heard that! How could I hate something so phenomenal? It was the most wonderful experience in life to move every two to three years. How could I not love it? It gave me a chance to learn that much more about my world and the different people in it. Living from Japan, to Hawaii, to Washington D.C. – and everywhere in between – gave my family the opportunity to do a lot.

We drove the islands of Hawaii and took pictures of every crater and waterfall. We had pic nics on every shore and watched the most amazing surf. I got baptized, at 5, in the oceans off of the shores in Kailua, Ohau. We took tours of the battlefields in Virginia and walked through buildings had stood since the dawn of our country. In grade school I was able to take a fieldtrip to the Smithsonian, as President Reagan drove by in his presidential limo…Wow!…talk about a big impression on a fourth grader. In Japan, we lived in the jungles on Okinawa. Our house backed up to the vegetation and the tunnels, that the Japanese soldiers hid in during the WWII. Of course, we didn’t venture too far in that crazy jungle due to the habu snakes and the banana spiders. One bite from a habu is deadly! But just knowing I was sleeping 20 feet from that much history was amazing in itself. How weird must it have been for my dad living near where he had fought in the Viet Nam war, years later? Learning a new language and submersing into a foreign culture was one of the highlights of my young life.

After attending college and starting into the work force, I realized how these things helped me the most. One way was giving me an edge to adapt to any new situation. At any given time, at any given moment….life changes, and most adult are set in their ways. Change to me is a way of life. My history has helped me roll with the punches. It’s given me the upperhand in the office to adapt to new policies and procedures, when most groan and gripe. Who do you think gets ahead in a superior’s eyes in that situation? Living around so many different people gave me to opportunity to learn more and understand things better from someone else’s perspective.

The biggest inspiration my life has delivered is just simple appreciation. From all the constant change in my short life, I have learned to appreciate what I have and who I share it with. Life is a huge adventure, but it’s also very short. Every day is a new present to open….it’s a gift. Every breath I take, every kiss I give, every embrace I cherish. Those are my number one priorities. Everything I do is for the benefit for those around me.

Military brats are definately a different breed. Yes, some do hate the life…they hate the constant upheaval. Some don’t like saying goodbye to thier friends. Some may resent the authority to made them do those things. But the ones who loved it…the ones who chose to say hello to new friends instead of goodbye to the old ones…the ones who understood the sacrifice their parents made for them and their country…..those are the ones who flourished in that environment.

On Okinawa, in high school, we were all stuck together like it or not. We often felt the Dept. of Defense school system purposely put us in a test tube to observe how it would all turn out. I know we passed their test with flying colors. There were no blacks vs. whites. There were no rich vs. poor. There were no jocks vs. nerds. We all were the same…military brats forced in a situation to make the best of it OR not! Most of us did make the best of it, and to this day benefit from our experiences. Everyone from that test tube of classes and races has gone on to something wonderful due to thier gift of adaptation in life. My Kubasaki alumni have all gone on to make something of themselves…screenwriters, actors, succesful leaders and soldiers, writers, lawyers, doctors/nurses, and just plain happy people. We all ended up people, who appreciate their surroundings and adapt to make it better when we’re facing the worse.

I want to stand up and say thank you to my dad for joining the military. Thank you for exposing me to a unique lifestyle, that most could never appreciate. Thank you for serving your country in war, to fight for my freedom. Thank you for putting your life on the line, time and time again so that even those, that don’t respect the military and are vocal about it, have the option of their freedom of speech! And Thank you for teaching me to serve my President, no matter who sits in the office. It’s an office of respect. Thank you dad, for loving me enough to drag me around from state to state and country to country. It’s given me an eyeful of life, good and bad….but it wouldn’t be a life worth living if it wasn’t exactly the way it was.

I love my job…I really do!

I have worked for a new company since June and although a risky move, it has been the biggest blessing. Honestly this company and job has ruined me! I can’t imagine EVER doing anything else again…other than what I do.

At the beginning of 2006, I just began to melt down. I wasn’t sleeping. My health was failing, due to the stress of my j-o-b. I couldn’t be a quality care giver to my son once I got home at night. I needed a miracle and prayed to God….”I can’t do this anymore…please help me.”

Within weeks this opportunity presented itself, via my sister’s urging me to consider her company. It would be a straight commission job and any money I’d make…would be completely up to me. Okay…how many of you would really jump at that? I just felt God’s tug at my heart when I interviewed and knew I should take a leap of faith.

All I have to say is THANK YOU GOD! Since I don’t have the luxury of being a full time stay at home mom, I have the best of both worlds. I know in today’s world, moms really struggle on the work vs stay at home thing. With my new job, I have so much more quality time with my son. I office part from home and a few hours from an office. Instead of leaving at 7:30 in the am to drop him off to my mom’s for the day….I have until 9:00. During the day, I set my schedule and I bring home more money than I ever would have been able to at my previous job. Now don’t get me wrong….I’m far from rolling in it. We’re making ends meet….but what I sell….I get to take 50% home. I am not lining someone else pocket….I’m lining my own. Instead of taking home 4%, like at my previous employer, I get 50%.

The environment with my superiors is better than I could have ever dreamed. So far, they are completely supportive of me and my plans. Instead of criticizing me when I could have done better…they ask me where I want to be and how I intend on getting there. I have never experienced a company that actually cares about me in that capacity….they really do support. I’m not under their thumb, not like where I came from.

I just wanted to blog a few seconds to say….I love my job….did I jinx myself? Hope not!