I realized yesterday morning that fall is setting in. I looked at the calendar numerous times and thought September, really? I’m still mentally in June. The summery dress I was wearing yesterday got covered by a sweater when I got to work, there was that strange fall feeling, and I suddenly felt nearly nude in the dress with no sleeves. Despite the fact that we hit 80 degrees yesterday, it wasn’t summer hot, it was fall hot, which is different. You know the difference in summer vs fall hot if you live in Colorado. Fall hot usually means it was 50 degrees at 8am and you needed the heat on in your car, yet it hits 80 degrees at 3pm and you need your air conditioning on.

Yes fall has set in and I may have to consider putting away my open toe shoes sooner than later, and pulling out my nice boots and dusting them off. I may even have to consider getting someone to come out, clean the vents, and get ready to turn the furnace on! Already? Where has summer gone?

The leaves are starting to fall just a bit, and soon the trees will be alive in fall colors, turning green shimmery leaves into golden gems, then into a dull dreary brown, where they fall to the earth into crispy piles. The smell is autumn, the colors are warm and homey feeling. The pumpkins will be ready for harvest, thoughts of Halloween and Thanksgiving are lingering in the back of my mind. Things settle into a hum of school activities, homework, early evenings, and calmer weekends. The hustle of summer has passed and the feeling of easing back into a regular schedule has come.

With this comes pulling out jeans again and finding the sweaters and jackets. Being ready for whatever nature may bring your way. The stores have started to fill their seasonal isles with fall festive wreaths, table clothes, and favorite football team must-haves. And I noticed an isle or two of Halloween candies and costumes. The coolers, summer time plates, picnic baskets, and pool floats have all be pushed to the clearance isles and hidden away in back rooms for the next summer season.

I love Christmas time, but I think that this change over to fall is one of my favorite times. The crisp smell in the air, the sound of the leaves being blown about, the warmth of the rusty red colors, the cooler mornings, and fall sunsets. Just the warm peace it seems to bring over your soul.

Yes, I must say, makes me want to run out and buy a wreath covered in fall leaves, sunflowers, and plastic pumpkins…..Fall is here!

Moral Compass

Moral Compass……does that lead your life? Maybe I am getting older, more conservative, more spiritual, but I keep finding myself asking this question. Where is the moral compass of the people in this world? It’s no longer pointing the right way, it seems to be spinning out of control.

I was listening to the radio this morning and the DJ’s were going on about how Kate Gosselin turned down an offer to be in Play Boy, and I was saddened that they were chastising her for saying no to $400,000. They kept saying she was holding out for more money. Why would she say no, she’s hot, it wouldn’t hurt her reputation. I’m sorry, at what point is it ok for a mom of 8 small children to show her kids that selling her body is ok? It’s ok to tarnish her reputation with her kids, but not society? Money is not what should lead weather to take off your clothes or not. Your moral compass should. I instantly felt anger against them for her, she had every right to say, no, I’m a mom and I’m not going to tell my kids its ok for me to do this for money. Good for her, her moral compass was finally pointing the right direction.

Not too many years ago this never would have been an issue, but today, it seems that if you make a good moral decision, you are put down, you are made to feel wrong by making the right decision for you. It’s all the time. Look at Miss California, giving her opinions on being gay and she is horribly crucified in the media. Why? That is her moral opinion. We have become a nation of extremes, we have to except everyone for whatever decision they make, we call it being “Free”, but if it strays from a liberal point of view or what is deemed as political correctness, people chastise you. I may not approve of your behavior as a gay, but I don’t love you any less for the person you are.

I see the look on people’s faces when I say my kids go to private Christian schools. There is a moment of uncomfortable silence, like why would I do that? When you say, hey I went to a prayer meeting at my son’s school, they have a twisted look on their face. Yet these are the same people who don’t hesitate to shoot out there anti-God opinions to me and expect me to suck it up, the same people who tell me that prayer doesn’t belong in schools. Yet when I differ from what seems to be the norm, I get the look. You know that look, like what a joke she is, forcing her kids to go to private school, and pray to God? What? Give your kids a dress code, that is ridiculous. I know, I’m ridiculous for having my child have pride in themselves, their bodies, their minds and not what is on their bodies and who texted who. Kids sending naked pictures of themselves to their classmates. Children who have no regard or respect for their parents and grandparents or teachers, and their parents have gone weak to societies pressure to give in to the kids. Where is their moral compass?

I was walking through a grocery store with my youngest son and I watched two adult men kissing, not just a simple kiss either, it was full on, it was embarrassing for me, I flushed in color. But I would have done the same thing if I had seen two tongues mingling on a straight couple. It was a situation where I had no idea what to say to my son. Life is such a trying journey at times, why should I have to explain to my 3 year old what that was, way before his age? When did it become ok to scramble a half-born, baby’s brain, instead of letting it live? Yet when I say, this shouldn’t be happening, I get the plight of the mother speech. Hey, then keep your legs closed, if you can’t do that, did you try birth control or adoption, anything than taking the right to life away from a fully developed fetus. Where is her moral compass? I don’t envy the mom in that situation, I have friends who have been there and I feel nothing by compassion for them. Love the sinner, not the sin.

I think there is such a lack of respect for others, and we allow the government to say what we can and can’t do, instead of relying on our own internal instinct to judge what we deem as appropriate. Instead of relying on God’s word, we rely on our own selfish wants and desires to lead us. Where is the moral compass pointing?

I was talking with my oldest son and he asked me what divorce was. This was not anything he had any experience with, and he became worried that “when” his dad and I got divorced things would be different. And I sat there, realizing that this is the norm for the kids today and for some kids multiple times, and I looked at him and said your dad and I will never get a divorce, God put him and I here on earth to be together forever. And people have chastised me before about that, how can you say never? I can say never. I can look you in the face and say never and know it to my core. The most important first relationship your kids will ever see, is the one between you and your spouse and God, that is what they will base each relationship they ever have off of in the future. I plan on making mine the foundation of their lives, not a circumstance that they have to overcome.

Where is my moral compass? It has swayed, it has spun around in the past, but I can see it clearly now. Pointing straight at the road I need to take. It’s not an easy route, it’s lined with taunts and teases, painful stumbling blocks, by my eyes are focusing straight ahead. Don’t tell me I can’t make it, I know I can, God has opened the path.

Fighting

I had my yearly physical yesterday, and all went well, but I was shocked to find out that my doctor has breast cancer. I learned that she is scheduled for a mastectomy next week, and that she’s been doing chemo, and she walked in with no hair, very gypsy looking scarf on her head, and I could look into her eyes and see her struggle. It really threw me emotionally, I don’t know why, it just did.

I instantly felt very hollow and saddened. I didn’t know what to say to her. Do you say to someone who is going through that, I’m sorry? Does that really cover what you should say to that person? How do you look at your 40 year old doctor and say, oh, I’m sorry. It’s like saying I’m glad it’s not me, but how are you?

It got me to thinking about how resistant we are to being personal and real with people. I wanted to hug her and tell her to keep fighting, but I didn’t, why didn’t I? As she is checking me out, she asked if I did the triathlon again this year, and yes, I did. And as I’m talking to her I realized that this is a woman who is fighting this disease, a woman who couldn’t run that tri on chemo, a woman who I knew who in some way maybe I helped by running the triathlon.

I began to think of all the little things in life that we take for granted. How we walk through our lives oblivious to those around us, to the simple things around us, to the joy that life brings, if we just stop for a moment and set aside our selfish desires, maybe we’d be happier within ourselves.

So, make a list. What simple things in life do you take for granted? What are some things today that you notice when you stop and look around?

Good friends
Laughter, love, and faith
The smell of brewing coffee
How soft my youngest son’s skin is
How big my oldest son suddenly is and the sounds of him getting his own breakfast
The way painting my nails makes me feel pretty
The smell of damp grass
The feel of the sun on my face first thing in the morning
Knowing each day is a new day
Blue skies
The feel of my husbands fingers on my skin
Clean sheets

Shoes hitting the ground Running!

I am trying to train again for my triathlon in August. So far I have had slow start.

I am focusing on my running, because I am terrible at it, so yesterday, I decide to go for a walk/jog. I walk about two blocks, then begin the jogging. I am not a fan of any sort of jogging or running. I hate it, I’m a “round” girl and all that weight running is a horrible burden for the body to bear.

But there I was, running down the street. Some good music playing in my ears, and I’m jogging, and I pass a quarter mile, and keep going, I get to the half mile point, and I keep going, I look forward the whole time, I keep going, I keep focusing far in front of me, and I can’t believe what I see in front of me…..the end of the street. That’s a mile. What? Is that really the end of the street, I keep running, I think to myself, I can do that. I can run to the end. I keep running, my legs are tight, my chest is burning, my eyes are focused on the end in front of me. I keep running, I just keep moving. I can’t stop at this point, my legs loosen, I think I almost sped up!

I hit the end of the street, at this point I am smiling, and I’m singing out loud, and I am beginning to cry. I get to the end, I cross the street and turn around and keep running, I run down the opposite side of the street, I keep going. I finally had to stop cause the tears in my eyes were causing me not to be able to focus on the road in front of me.

I am laughing, and crying, and cheering. I haven’t done that since probably Jr. High. We are talking nearly 20 years. Yeah, crazy that I am that old, but yeah. Nearly 20 years. I did it. I ran it, I didn’t stop, and I kept focusing ahead of me, no matter the pain, I just kept going. I saw the end and I knew I couldn’t stop.

I am not often proud of myself, and for this one moment, one the side of the road in my neighborhood, I’m crying and laughing, and I am proud of me! Proud of what I did and of what I know I can do!!

Of course, as I am giggling and wiping tears away, I pass an older gentleman with a border collie puppy. I stop, pet this sweet lovely little puppy, giggling the whole time. Poor man, he must of thought I was damaged! How do you explain to a stranger you just ran a mile for the first time in who knows how long, and now you are sobbing like an emotionally damaged bone head?

I walked a few more blocks, and started to jog again. I ran another quarter or mile or so, before the tears blinded my view again and I walked the rest of the way home.

This morning, I can still hear the sound of my breathing in my ears, and sound my shoes made hitting the ground. I can still feel the tension in my calves and feel the motion of my body in my muscles. I will do it again!

Slippery Slope

My mind is distracted and diffused.
My thoughts are lying many miles away…

Just heard those lines in song by Simon and Garfunkel, called Kathy’s Song.

It struck me because I feel very much that way today. Despite the sunny day outside, it seems there is just a cloudy fog over my day. I’m tired, exhausted, and worn out. My job is beating me down lately, and days like today make me wonder what my true purpose really is. Of course I say these things as I put a billion dark chocolate covered cranberries in my mouth, then wash those down with hot tamales….so much for having a good food day. Totally self-sabotaging and I hate that, yet I notice I put aside those thoughts to dig through the bag of chocolates for more.

Hello fat girl? What are you doing to yourself? Do you seriously want to do that, Ms. Pudge? 165 chocolate calories later, and 140 hot tamale calories later, I’m kicking myself and wondering if I should just eat a few more….you already ate that many, may as well go in for total destruction.

I know that food is my shelter, my home, the place I run no matter the weather that I am facing in my life. So if I know this, why can’t I control it? Not sure on the answer to that, but isn’t half the battle admitting you have an issue? Or is that just an excuse to say, hey, I know why I do it, but never really get to the bottom of it and fix it. Or is running to food something I can’t fix? It’s as if I run to it because I’m so afraid of relying on just me to get it resolved, that if I hide in a pound of chocolate, the work stressors and life’s hardships will become easier. How silly is that? No amount of chocolate, or cheese covered French fries will ever take care of the 155 emails in my inbox, or the voicemails that need to be returned. Nor will a bag of chips handle the laundry or clean up dinner….seriously, all it’s doing is filling my stomach and adding fat cells to my butt and obviously my brain, but it’s not addressing the real issues.

Just one mis-step and you’ll slip before you know it. Life is a slippery slope for a fat girl whose fighting not only her weight but herself….and each day I feel as if I am walking on egg shells….hoping the bottom doesn’t give out and I don’t just dive into the biggest vat of heavenly chocolate I can find, then run through fields and forests of cheeseburgers, French fries, hot wings, chips, guacamole, and ding dongs.

Just thinking about those fields of food gives me tingly feelings of elation and uber joy! But the reality is, in the end, I wouldn’t be any more happier than if I had just sat down, knocked out the work, wrote down how I felt and sucked down the water like the Sahara desert during a rain storm.

And I feel that I’m waiting for something….what am I waiting for? What do I really think is going to happen? There is nothing fun about being the fat girl. Oh you do hear a lot about what a great personality you have or how nice you are, or you hair cut looks great, but you don’t often hear someone say, hey nice tight buns you got there. Then I think, do I really give a rats ass about what others think of me? Do I care if I have buns of steel? And even if I don’t want to be superficial, deep down, yeah, I want someone to notice me cause of how good I look once in awhile, and not by how great I can format a spreadsheet or how I can cook a mean meatball.

I am ready, I am ready, ready get set….get set….get set…..ready….get set……GO! Hey Fatty Fat girl…STOP dragging those feet and just GO!

Full Circle

It’s funny how things in life can come full circle, you don’t even see it happening, it just happens.

My grandmother passed away 8 years ago on Monday the 19th and I have seemed to pick up where she left off. I’ll explain that.

She used to make aprons for us. My favorite and the one I wear at least once a week is my Porky Pig apron. It’s a simple bib apron with two pockets. I wear it to clean, to cook, when I am eating and wearing white, whenever I think I need it. For Christmas John bought me a sewing machine. I haven’t touched a sewing machine since High School, and it is coming back to me slowly, and I started by reading the directions, which is key, then stitching up a tear in Joey’s bed skirt, then a tear in John’s pants, then I made an apron.

I bought some fabric on clearance just to practice on, and it’s a cute blue daisy pattern, and as I am holding it up to myself, I thought, hey, I can make this into an apron! So I did just that! I did a simple waste apron, not the full bib style, but with two pockets, and for fun I sewed an old towel to the back of it. The towel has made this apron a full use apron! I can wipe my hands on it, dry off the counter and the dish in my hand all at the same time! What more can you ask for!

It took me a few hours on some Sunday afternoon, but when I was done and I put it on, all I could see in my mind was my grandma and the Porky Pig apron with matching pot holders. Here I was making a full circle back to where I had began, just older and now I am the one creating cute little items from my sewing machine, and ironically full of the same humbleness she had. It’s not very good, she’d say. Ironically, those same words came from my mouth a time or two.

I have come to find some strange joy and peace in turning on that machine and watching the needle go up and down and my mind has become a whirling tornado of grand ideas. Aprons, and curtains, pillows, and blankets, table clothes and napkins, what else is in store for that machine? What can I come up with next! I find myself thinking of fabrics that people I know would like, and if I have the patience and skill to try a quilt! I even went as far has having John order me fabric labels with my name on them that I can stitch to all my creations.

Although my heart fills with brief moments of sadness, because I miss my grandma very much, but I am also filled with a comforting happiness in knowing that maybe, just maybe she left me a bit of herself inside me.

Life has a funny way of coming full circle.