It's the Little Things

Have you heard the saying "Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things".  I've been trying to live life every day by those words.  I am having brain surgery on November 12th.  I, like my mom, have a brain aneurysm.  I need to have surgery to have it clipped.  I am scared out of my wits to have a craniotomy.  I know that I should feel lucky that they found it before it burst and that my children don't have to go through what my sisters and I went through when my mother's aneurysm burst.  While I don't feel lucky at all (I feel pretty fucking unlucky, to be honest), I do feel an appreciation for the little things, the things that are keeping me going every day, the things I want to tell you about:

1.  I should be making a will but instead I am organizing the shelves/cabinets where my pans are stored.  I am looking for my legacy, people!

2.  Mmmm, morning coffee that I didn't make myself.  How I cherish thee.  See this girl?  She works at the Java Station.  She knows my order and starts on it before I order.  Her name is Kelly and she is Uh-Maze-Ing.  The Mindi from before never stopped at the Java Hut.  Four something dollars was wayyy too much to spend on coffee when I already have a Keurig at home.  No longer my friends.  It tastes better when she makes it, and on many mornings, I let her!

3.  I have a new found appreciation for my legs.  Ever since a person who will not be named told me my legs were fat in 7th grade, I have had issues with my legs.  I know they aren't perfect, but damn it, they are strong, they let me run and run, THEY TAKE ME PLACES.  For that I heart them and appreciate them more now.  I realize I will be required to take a break from running for at least a few months.  I want to enjoy it while I can right now.

4.  I am less wary about sharing my opinions.  I have been posting on FB like a madwoman lately, I know.  I don't apologize if it annoys you, you can always block me or unfriend me.  You see, things like marriage and gender equality and orange cats mean a lot to me, and I wish to share it with the cyber world!!

5.  I kiss and hug my kids A LOT.  I always have, but now I do it even more.  I can't get out of my head the way they reacted when we told them I was having surgery.  I can't wait to be the "old me" and want to fast forward through the month when I will be, shall we say, compromised.  I get a certain feeling when Ava or Alex and I are heart to heart, and it's like nothing else in this world.  I hang onto it with every fiber of my being.  A fabulous teacher at school (Tami Qualls) talked to me about what it's like to have brain surgery and gave me some good tips.  She told me that when the anesthesiologist asks you to count backwards as you are sedated, instead of doing that to begin chanting your children's names.  She told me that it's a reminder to everyone in that room all that you have to live for.  She told me that if God forbid, something were to go wrong, no one wants counting backwards to be how they spent their last moments on this earth.  I will chant AVA ALEX AVA ALEX AVA ALEX over and over again before I go under anesthesia.  I know you know that I have my amazing babies to live for. 

6.  I give my lovelovelove to the kids at school.  I tell them I love them, I tell them they look amazing, I tell them they even smell amazing if they happen to (which I might add is quite rare in the high school environment).  I write them notes, and I relish praising them and giving them a card for a free cone from DQ.  They need love, and I have love to give.

7.  I have no patience for petty and annoying drama llama crap.  Enough said.

8.  I have been shopping.  Too much shopping is happening.  I might be using my surgery as an excuse for this one.  Don't tell Jer.  He barely gets on FB so I might just get away with this one.

9. I can't get enough of the little, mundane, routine, ordinary and every day moments with my perfect family.  From listening to Alex as he plays with his dinosaurs to watching Ava dance, to talking to Jer about his day, I don't take a bit of this life for granted.

10.  I don't take the beauty of this world for granted either.  Do you know our sky looked like this on an early morning last week?  I was awestruck for a moment.

11.  Most of all, I could not do this without my family, my husband's family, my friends, and Jer. 

More than anything on this earth I want to come out of this still ME.  That means that if you act like I look weird with part of my head shaved, I will notice!  Ok, just kidding.  (This ME thinks she is funny).

 

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

Erma Gerd, We ARE Related!

I was downloading pics from Ava's birthday trip to Build-a-Bear when I came across proof that there's a genetic link between my daughter and I! Trust me, my experience birthing her is forever seared in my brain, but there's always been that teensy tiny thought in the back of my head that a negligent nurse performed a little switcheroo in the hospital with my baby and someone else's. (Tell me this is normal!??) This little thought gained some traction when I soon realized my little darling's eyes were blue and her hair full of natural curl. These were surprises of the good kind but over the last seven years I have heard more than one joke about the mailman when strangers see Ava and then Jeremy and myself. Maybe it's because she is so flipping gorgeous. :) I am always envious of parents with little mini mes walking around, and Jeremy hit the jackpot in this area because he and Alex are twinkies. Anyways, I came across this pic and I instantly
loved it.
 

LOOK AT OUR CHINS. THEY. ARE. THE. SAME. 

 ERMA GERD, WE ARE RELATED!

Wordless Wednesday.

Scrub-a-Dub-Dub, There's a Cutie in my Tub

I bet many of you are parents. If so, you probably have a lot of experience in regards to assisting your child with bathing. For me, helping the kiddos bathe is a task to check off the to-do list like the myriad of other things that must be accomplished on a school night (because who hasn't skipped a kiddo's shower at some point on a weekend?) along with making dinner, working on homework, the requisite and much sought after "family activity", and the grand finale, the bedtime ritual. Viewing bathtime as a chore really robs bathtime of its unlimited potential. Alex always begs for a bath and I try to talk him into a shower to save time. However, showers just don't yield the playtime potential that baths do. When Alley in particular is taking a bath, imagination runs wild! He's on a pirate ship!, he's in an epic battle with Transformers!, no wait, he's being eaten by a crocodile! Once in awhile I am in the frame of mind to stop picking up dirty clothes, to stop putting things away, and to really LISTEN. I start to take my makeup off and laugh to myself as I see the world through his eyes. It's a special place.....

Back to School!

Today was the first day of school! Ava was stoic but also seemed fragile. I debated whether or not to help carry her school supplies in. I decided on putting them in her backpack. We took pictures and a few friends (Camilla and Valencia) ran up to hug her and say they missed her. I had to leave in a hurry to help Alex so I didn't get to see Ava actually walk in. This made me sad but I was so happy to have my mother in law there with me to watch her go in. I ran over to help Alex line up. The aide at the end of the line took his hand and he reached and also grabbed his teacher's hand. He held onto both of them and they laughed, saying, "he really has this all figured out". Right before walking in he broke from his teachers and said that he needed to give his mom one more hug and kiss. That's when the tears really started flowing for me, and it really melted my heart. Both of them had a fabulous first day of school. : )


 

Back to School Photo Shoot!

I'm Baaaack.

Wow. It's really hard for me to believe it was March of 2011 when I last blogged.  I took losing Marty pretty hard and most of what I formerly blogged about were celebrations of sorts.  I didn't feel that I could write like that again after posting about his dying.  I should never have gotten away from this.  A lot has happened since my last post, and I will only re-cap the major occurrences--

• I moved from being the Career and Technical Education Counselor to a "regular" School Counselor
• Jeremy was laid off from work and now is in a different position with the State of Iowa
•  a nephew and niece entered the world
• we moved into a new house
• I lost my beloved Grandma Marty
• I ran in a lot of races and read some great fiction
• Ava started school and has since completed kindergarten
•  Alex was diagnosed with a life-threatening tree nut allergy
• I completed another post-master's certificate in School Administration
• my dad got engaged
•  I saw our POTUS *twice*
• and very recently, I nearly lost my mommy.  

Since the last time I blogged I feel that I have aged more in that time than any other in my life.  I've put a lot of pressure on myself, some unnecessarily.  I am back to the blog because I think it's cathartic for me to share what's going on in my life and my mind.  So, for those of you that I asked why I am not longer blogging and suggested that I get back to it, thank you.  I needed the little boost to get going again.

 

My Best Friend is Gone.

My big orange cat is dead.  My heart hurts so much and is so empty, it feels like nothing will fill it.  I know that this may sound dumb to some people, but it's where I'm at.  Can I tell you a little bit about him?

Marty was 14 years old.  He was with me through wild times in college.  He lived with me in my dorm room at Williston and literally terrorized my room and my roommate's.  He was always hell bent on freedom as a kitty.  He was the same wild man when he lived with me at Grandma Shirley's house.  He would roll around with her dog, Sam, and knock over her plants.  Grandma Shirley always gave "Moomy" a kiss on the head good night before locking him in my room before he could do more damage.  He was a heck of a mouse hunter, and loved to perch up high above her doorway.  He was really aloof during this time, and I loved that about having a cat, because he was always ready to snuggle up at bedtime.  If I am feeling down, I always lay in bed.  My mom does the same thing, and it's the place where I feel like I can cry safely where no one can see me.  Marty was always there for me if I went to my bed to be sad.  I never felt alone with Marty, because he was always there in the background for me when I needed it the most. In his adolescence he loved to go outside.  He would sit outside on a leash and wait to be petted by passerbys.  It wasn't unusual for him to break through a screen to escape to the outside to "cat around" for a day or night.  Marty was the consummate tom cat, and this came with a reputation to uphold.  He was always just a bit aloof, and never let you rub his belly or his feet, or you would get a scratch or a bite before you even knew what hit you.  My sisters would laugh because I would try to get them to smell his "orange fluff belly".  They didn't dare, and feared that he would claw their head off.  He and I really understood each other though, and I could read his body language and know whether I could smell his belly or not.  One of my favorite traits of Marty's was that he always smelled good, especially his belly. 

Sadie joined our family when Marty was a teen.  I honestly thought she would have to go back to the Humane Society because Marty tortured the poor kitty so.  He would hold her down and bite her.  My dad always called Marty "Alpha Male" and "Le Gran Orange", and I think he was just asserting his dominance over the newest family member.  Within a few weeks, they were the best of friends.  Up until he passed away, Marty and Sadie napped together.  Perhaps Sadie is even more lost than I am without Marty.  As he got older, he slowed down like every human and animal does.  He slept more and played less, and never begged to go outside anymore.  Although I was sad to see him change as he aged, he also became more loving when he was older.  He purred a lot and begged for love.  He always patted me with his claws very softly when he wanted his head scratched.  For the last year he started getting cups of water with me every morning because he had a hard time climbing up on the toilet to get a drink.  He still religiously begged me for butter when I made toast though, and I always felt warm and fuzzy anytime we did anything that was a part of just our special routine. 

I am trying to get into a new routine without him.  I can tell you I don't like this one bit.

Wordless Wednesday

Ahhh, 4 year olds....

Don't you just love to see how their minds work?

On the ride home from the YMCA today, the song "Beautiful Mess" by Diamond Rio came on the radio. Ava asked, "mom, why is he happy he made a mess?" I explained to Ava that sometimes people are happy about things that are messy. She then paused to think, and then said, "but when is a mess beautiful?" I explained that the man singing the song had fallen in love and that it had made is life messy, but he was happy about it. She continued to ask questions and seemed to have a hard time grasping that a mess can be beautiful. I wish I did a better job of explaining this to Ava, because certainly my life is sometimes a beautiful mess.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas

Wow.. 5 days until Christmas!
I can hardly believe it. I hope I remember this Christmas for always. Ava is at the perfect age for all of the wonder and magic that Christmas is. She loves looking forward to parties, has the biggest sweet tooth I have ever seen, and can't wait to spend time with family. She counts down the days until Christmas every night before bedtime. She continually asks us if Santa thinks she has been naughty. She reminds us a lot that she thinks that her brother has indeed been naughty. Alex just doesn't quite get it all yet. I know he will love his presents and time with family, but he can't articulate the questions that Ava has. Ava loves to ask about the logistics of it all, such as, "how will Santa get down the chimney if there's a fire?" Ava's Christmas list includes some of the expected: a Dora doll, Barbies, a dollhouse. Bub's list included his all two favorite things: "CHOO CHOO TRAINS AND CARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He truly lives for cars and trains, and is always carrying them around and sleeping with the toys and books that are train and car related. This year Alx wasn't even afraid to sit on Santa's lap (you can reference last year's picture of Alex on Santa's lap if you are so inclined, it's an earlier entry on this blog). When Ava sat on Santa's lap she surprised her father and I by also asking him to bring trains for Alex. We considered this quite selfless. My how my little ones have grown.

Wordless Wednesday

Wow.

Where oh where on Earth have I been, dear blog?
I have been so busy I feel like I am running in all directions.
I don't feel like I am being a good enough mother right now.
I feel like there's never enough time in the day.
I have purpose and lack patience.
I am not cultivating my marriage.
What's wrong, you say, dear blog?
Well, I don't know. It feels like some of the existential issues I learned about during my clinical psych degree. I feel alone sometimes lately and misunderstood. I worry and worry about the people I love being taken from me. My cat and my grandmas are old. Accidents and terminal illness happen. Everything is unpredictable and I am in the middle trying to regain control like my type A self always tries to do. *sigh*. I will try to visit you more often, dear blog. Sometimes it's cathartic just to send something out into the blogosphere.

Run, Mindi, Run.

I ________________ to run.

The answer for the blank space above could just as easily be love as hate.

I both love and hate running. I get a little adrenaline rush while I stretch, put on my running clothes, and trip over Tasha as she lunges at me in excitement to get out the door. I despise the feeling of the first mile. I always feel anxious, short of breath, and out of shape. My calf muscles always protest loudly as I hit the first hill of my 3 mile trek. I am such a creature of habit that I feel like I am cheating on my running route if I deviate from it. I do a lot of self-talk at this point, reminding myself that I have gained mastery over this distance and this speed. I curse the traffic light gods when I am forced to stop at the light, and feel like everyone at the light is staring and wonders why I would run with humongous double sports bra clad boobs bouncing around. When I hit my stride, I feel invincible. I feel like I could actually take on a half marathon someday. I think about how I enjoy having clothing fit looser and less back fat. I think about how I want to be in shape for my children, so that I can enjoy a long life with them. I think about the fact that if I don't run, I will really need to diet hardcore and give up food I enjoy. I think about how I wish I still had a running partner, so we could motivate one another...how I wish that my husband could be my running partner but that 1) he's with our children and 2) he runs too darn fast for me. I am always correcting my posture and trying to strike the ground with the correct part of my foot. I am always monitoring Tasha's speed. There's a sweet spot where neither of us is pulling the other along. When I hit the half way mark I tell myself I can surely manage to complete what I just have. I remind myself that the way back is more of a decline than the inclined way there. I am extremely conscientious of other dogs and worry and one will jump out and attack Tasha. I am sure people recognize me running because of my white fluffy poofball partner. If I start to falter around 3/4 of the way done, I begin to chant in time with my stride. A common thing running through my head is "one foot in front of the other" or "one piece of pizza, nev-er two". Stopping isn't an option unless my shoes are untied. Finishing is bliss and victory. I tell myself I am amazing. I tell myself I am entirely proud of myself. I tell myself, I love to run.

Big Bub

How could I not have spoken about Big Bub on his birthday!??!?! I feel entirely negligent. My Bub is 2 years old now! He is large and in charge. He is sweet and a cuddler. He is quick to laugh and even quicker to squawk when he doesn't get his way. I near "NOOOOO, SISSY!!!!", numerous times in a day! Only occasionally these outbursts include physical contact! You look JUST like your daddy, Big Bub. You are mama's special little *not so little* boy. You color so well, Bub. I know you just love to sit and make beautiful pictures. You also loves cars, trains, and airplanes. Your legs and knees are so bruised because it's always non stop action and fun with you. You are such a superb little brother, and feel lost if sissy isn't around. Your big blue eyes are just like your sister's, and your dad and I marvel all the time at how you got those in the first place! You are my special little sweetie, Big Bub. You mean the world to us, Alley Urlacher.

My Baby is 4?!??!??!

It's unbelievably hard to come to grips with the fact that my baby is turning 4. Oh how we love you so, sweetest Birdie. You are such a creative and imaginative child! You spend most of your free time with a book, hands grasped tightly, with your face full of joy as you expressively tell new stories. You are always asking questions. You are quick to say I love you, and even quicker to give a kiss. You always say that Alex is your best friend, and sometimes he is even your prince. You recently started taking showers and washing independently, and you are so proud of this accomplishment! You like to do most things on your own, and mama likes to help you with most things, because mama is entirely too type A for her own good, and just doesn't want to let go of that glimmer of babyhood left inside you. You are a darn good eater and have a sweet tooth like no other! You are really doing well in tumbling class and mom and dad are proud of you daily. Your cousins mean everything to you and you talk about them often. Ava, I hope that you hold on to your sense of wonder throughout your entire life. I love to hear you weave stories. I love to hear you work to make sense of something. I love your beautiful and shiny hair and big blue eyes. I am not fond of the poking and pinching that is aimed at Alex. I love how freely you give your love. You are my all, Birdie Girl.

Wordless Wednesday

365*5

Tomorrow is my 5th wedding anniversary! The last five years of my life have brought more joy and change than the entire preceding 28 years of my life. All of the joy, the change, the sleepless nights, the anxieties, the excitement, the stinky diapers, and the pain have been shared with my best friend. Jeremy is conscientiousness to my spontaneity, thoughtful when I am selfish, and my rescuer when I need rescuing. In five years we have lived together in two homes, returned to graduate school (again), quit and/or accepted four different jobs, buried a pet, and added wrinkles and pounds. We've lost a lot of sleep. We have more gray hairs and make more money than we did five years ago, but have less money than ever. We've lost two special friends and two grandparents and have traveled fabulous places. Undoubtedly our greatest accomplishment has been giving birth to and raising our two precious children. I can't wait to see what the next five years will bring my best friend and I.