We Deserve To Be Happy. It May Be the Only Thing That Is Certain.

"A person will be just about as happy as they make up their minds to be."

Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865) Politician. President of the United States.

I think that about sums it up, how I feel right now. I could just repeat that quote and finish the blog right now, or I could write about why I feel this way and how I came to understand knowing this quote is right on the money.
Mike and I are in a quandary. With no real information to go on except what is on paper and in theory, much of it ambiguous and obtuse, we are being forced to make decisions we are not comfortable with. We are a frugal, pragmatic couple, with little time to lay in the grass and daydream about all the wonderful things that could possibly happen. With three kids in college and one graduating form high school this month, we are busy trying to decide what to do with what is happening. Our current day to day existence doesn't allow for much dreaming, or at least it wouldn't if we were a different couple. As much as we are realists, we are also dreamers. What tiny snippets of time we do have for dreaming, we take and run with. I think it's mandatory to dream. Dreaming allows for the possibility of hope and miracles, unseen and unknown.
We planned to sell our house last year and then proceeded to do the work necessary for that to happen. It hasn't been easy, rewarding, yes, but easy, no. We wrote our list of all the things we were going to do to help insure we would meet our goal. I am an "I" dotter and a "T" crosser. Having worked the bulk of my adult life as a nurse, my habits are strict discipline, organization, detailed planning and careful execution. My patients lives depended on my ability to "see" the future and count all the "what ifs". The days where I got blindsided by unexpected illness or the dreaded falls, causing serious injury, could not be planned for and momentarily threw me off balance. Those were the days when I would leave my job hours after my shift should have ended, feeling as though nothing I did mattered anyway. One can never truly plan for the unexpected. Stuff just happens without explanation or apology , that we just have to deal with, regardless of how unfair it all seems.
Mike's job is changing. After twenty-six years of loyalty to one company, things are changing that are beyond his scope of planning or expectation. There is nothing seemingly, fair about what is happening. It just is what it is. What happens next, we have no idea. We know nothing for sure right now. After months, no strike that, years, of careful living, planning, squirreling away our little nuts, we find ourselves in the precarious position of being homeless in a few weeks and not knowing where to go or how to get there. It is the way of our current economy and the lives of the middle class. It feels oppressive at times, trying to make decisions about our lives when so many things are unknown. This would be the perfect time to feel sorry for ourselves, when looking ahead at the road stretched out before us, with no concrete ground to walk on. It would not be unreasonable to be angry, fighting back tears because a company has taken the task of determining our worth. These are all just feelings that can swallow us up whole and leave us for dead, if we are not careful.
What we have actively decided to do, is to be happy everyday for what we have right now. The future will happen, regardless of how much we think about it, plan for it, or commit to worry. The decisions we face are huge and effect our entire family. Our four kids are to be home this summer for the first time in four years. This wonderful thing is happening st the exact time we do not know where we will live or if there will be room for everyone. This situation is the very definition of irony. Panic about this would not be unreasonable, however it would be wasteful and if you know anything about me at all, know this, I hate waste. I do not like wasted anything, be it time, energy, food or things. Waste drives me absolutely bonkers.
Mike and I have made the active decision to be in the now, living and thinking about life in the moment and not spin our wheels thinking about what all can happen. It's easy to be fatalistic about the future when things are presented in darkness. It takes time, attention and focus to live happy for what you have right this minute. it takes effort to get up everyday and say, "Today I will be happy and grateful for everything good in my life right now."
Things will work out far better than anything we can plan or any scenario we can cook up in our limited imaginations. We have watched our prayers be answered with big giant "yes"s coming straight from heaven. We asked for many things in the last year and all our dreams came true. This is no small matter, to have such wonderful things laid at your feet. I can't tell you how many times in the last weeks I have been completely awestruck, gobsmacked at how things fell into place. I have been continuously watching things unfold in a manner that leaves me breathless. I do see where some would say, "this is a logical explanation to all the work you have done to get ready." But, as logical as this all may be, there is something very ethereal about how it is all playing out. There are bigger forces at work right now for us. God is dreaming bigger for us than we ever could for ourselves. I have written before that good luck is merely preparation meeting opportunity. I didn't make that up, that is as old as time itself. I believe this is the time for Mike and to be the boy scouts and be prepared for any and all opportunities that are headed our way. I believe in signs and when I am watchful, I am given glimpses of what could be, and my only job is to be ready for when the opportunities come. I have been witness to things I have never seen before. I have stayed aware, eyes wide open to catch the tiniest sights that will show us which direction to go. I remain grateful for everything big and small we have been given. I went to bed last night praying for strength of mind, body and soul, as Mike and me prepare to be ready for anything. I prayed that my life and the lives of my family reflect hope and help and that we remain humble, grateful and respectful. I prayed that whatever opportunity we are afforded, we endeavor to deserve it. I repeatedly said "thank you" for all the wonderful things in our lives and the sheer will and ability to be more.
I woke up this morning facing the inevitable "Y" in the road to be either consumed by all the questions, or happy knowing things will really work out the way they are supposed to. Coffee and sympathy don't really work well together, so I chose happy. Every moment of everyday I am working to choose happy. I have seen my my face unhappy and all that accomplishes is, it makes my hound like jowls more pronounced. I feel confident about choosing happy, because when I look at Mike, I can't imagine anyone who deserves it more.

...And the Walls came Crumbling Down

Mike and I are looking for a house. This is the third house we have hunted for in our nine year marriage. The first house we bought together, was a huge leap of faith. With two houses to sell and them not even being for sale, we made an offer on what would become our first home together. It was the house we had our wedding reception at. It was the house we became a family in. I have wonderful memories in that house. We had only lived there three years, when Mike got transferred for his job. Tearfully, I packed up and watched the biggest moving truck I had ever seen drive away with every single thing we owned. Another truck pulled up, loaded up my mini van and also drove down the street with my car, not to be seen again for another week, after we had arrived in Houston Texas, twelve hundred miles away from all the people we loved.
Flash forward six years and we are packing up again to find another place to hang our hat. Our current house was filled to the brim with arguing teenagers, barking dogs and paint cans. My kids all went through high school here. Every prom and Homecoming picture has a swing that Mike had built for me for my birthday, years ago. This was our safe refuge when we were trying to figure out how fit in, in the deep south. I love this house. Mike and I painted every wall, laid nearly every tile and fixed every problem with the house and the family.
As I get ready for yet another move, I feel at peace with the decision to sell to another growing family who will have memories of their own. This house needs young kids to sit on the swing, play in the pool and run up and down the bayou. This house begs for a growing family to love and appreciate it. Billy Joel wrote a song a million years ago called, "You're My Home". I look at my beautiful husband and I know for certain that he is my home. We are not our house, or our cars, or our jobs. We are each others shelter from the storm. We are each others home.
Yesterday, we viewed another house that fit our criteria on paper. We had seen it online, and we anxious to look at it in person. In theory it had everything we were looking for. We have been looking at foreclosures, mostly because we are handy and it would give us an opportunity to fix the house as we would like. Not much scares us when it comes to houses that need repair. We are a solid team and work well together. Mike has his strengths and I have mine. I think we may have been house flippers in another life. We went through houses that were abandoned for one reason or another. Some were in total disrepair, requiring immediate CPR while others needed someone to love and appreciate their individual architectural beauty. I have grown accustomed to seeing the collateral damage of the housing crisis upfront and in person. I'll be honest, I feel really bad for those who have lost their homes. As a humanitarian, I feel the loss in my heart and see what can happen when things begin the slow, deteriorating descent to what must feel like hell. Somewhere along the line something happened and things became broken. As I walk through these houses, I don't see Wall Street, or banking logos, I see real people's homes taken from them for one reason or another, and I feel the heartbreak to my bones. Life is a fragile thing, with many unexplained circumstances that can alter a person forever. Some houses look as though the owners quietly gathered their things and left without much ado. Some houses look as thought the angry owners ripped the house to shreds in order to get back at the evil that destroyed their lives and pulled them from their homes. I try very hard not to judge the reasons for the emptiness the house now suffers. The banks were judge, jury and executioner, so I do not have to make that my concern. What I concern myself is with how a house feels. Paint can be changed, but I think houses hold memories and if the damage is too great and the feeling is dank depression, then I must admit, I am out. It has been put to me that I am too sensitive. I think that is ridiculous. I am sensitive to my surroundings and for those who plow through their lives with little or no feeling of what has transpired before them, well, I think they are dead inside. So be it. My mom says, "Each to their own." When I think someone is too icy, that is the phrase I rely on, but not necessarily what I really think.
One house in particular yesterday, caught my eye. It was a house Mike and I had seen and were very interested in. We got to the house and as we got out of the car we noticed someone was inside. "Hello?" our Realtor called out. A young man with a paint spray can in his hand came to the door to greet us. "I am just painting over the graffiti," he stated and went back to the room he was working in. We all looked at each other, puzzled at what that meant. Room by room we walked through the foreclosed house, making our list of what all needed to be done. The house hadn't been updated, possibly since the 1970s when it was originally built. We started walking down the hall to look at the bedrooms and closet space when we saw the young man from earlier, painting over what looked like a giant teenage girls diary on every wall in the room. I could still read through the first coat of cover all things this young girl was feeling as they got ready to lose their home. I stood awestruck by the raw emotion scribbled on the walls of this girl's room. There it all was, the heartbreak, the torment, the humanity of what the housing crisis really is. As I read line after line, I felt this incredible urge to break down and cry. I felt her pain, as if she were standing right next to me. This wasn't about politics, it never really is, it was about the abject horror this girl felt about losing the security of her home. What missteps, or bad decisions her parents made were of no consequence now. All is hindsight. The children of this home, paid the price for any and all things that went horribly wrong. An adult was broken and unable to recover, at least in time to save the family home.
I carried that girl with me all day. As if she were perched on my shoulders, I walked with the heaviness on my chest and a burdened heart. Silently, I prayed for her. Was she alright? Did they find somewhere to stay? Was there family around to help get them through this? I prayed this young girl with the broken home and heart find some peace. I prayed that she would one day look back at this time as a source of learning. I prayed that she might use this experience as a way to help others and be more empathetic to those who fall on hard times.
I will tell you, not everybody recovers from devastating, emotional blows. Not everyone has the ability to regroup and pick themselves back up to fight another day. Some people get hurt, fail miserably and never find hope again. I saw those people in the nursing homes. I watched some elderly die in the exact same pain they had suffered years ago and had not been able to move past. I prayed the young one, whose very heart was exposed on those bedroom walls, would not be one of the living dead. It is always by the grace of God go we. My intention is to always remember that I am not better, I am not worse than anyone else in the world, and it is only by grace that I do not suffer as I have witnessed others suffer. It is in humility, kindness and empathy, I try and keep my heart, so that I won't inadvertently, or purposely cause someone more pain.
Mike and I spoke softly to each other later that day about what we had seen. We whispered about the oppressive sadness the house now bares. We held our hushed voices in reverence and respect for the family, who was forced from the very place they had chosen as their soft place to fall.
May God bless them, protect them and keep them safe. That would be the prayer I would want for my own family, if our bottom were to fall out beneath us. The next time you see a sign listing a foreclosure, I ask that you take a moment of silence and utter a tiny prayer for those who are now lost. Pray that they may one day find their way home.

My Little Project

I had started my little project a month ago today. The idea was to push myself to learn something new, discover something about myself and to spend a little quality time with me. As with so many things I start, I had to switch things up midstream. I had plans, big plans to to find out more about myself and get some answers to some of the "whys" I am who I am. What I ended up with is so much more than I had originally planned.
Almost a year ago, Mike and I sat down and had a heart to heart talk about living in our current house and how much it is costing in time and money. When we moved here six years ago, it made sense to us, because we had four kids in high school and middle school. Last summer we realized that as much as it made sense back then, it made no sense now. What we learned about us in our house was we were living for our house instead of just living in our house. We were living to work instead of working to live. The plan had been to renovate the house, put it on the market and downsize to a smaller house, here in Houston. The reality is that the house is selling and we are about to be released out into the wild. Our plan worked, except one little hitch. His company is merging with another company in a meg-merger. Oh, we are downsizing alright, all the way across the board. His department was told they were being transferred to Chicago in two years. Of all the contingency plans we had in our heads, this one we really hadn't counted on. As of right now, we are to move in June. Where we are going to move to, is still undecided at this point, with little or no idea of what the best answer is. Our poor Realtor just reminded us to breathe. I must admit, that when someone has to tell you to exhale, it's time to let go and let God.
I had wanted to walk more. I wanted to go out everyday and see nature, dogs in tow, and just be for an hour. This is also a done deal for me. Since we started showing the house, we get kicked out regularly and since we have no place to go, we walk the dogs in whatever park is handy. Ironically, I just found a magazine article that teaches how to step up your work out while walking. I plan to start that on Monday and see how it goes.
This month, I wanted to connect with my spiritual side and lean more heavily on my faith. Because we have no answers to any of our questions about our future, I have no choice but to do exactly that. When asked directly, "What are you and Mike going to do? Where will you live for now? Are you going to move to Chicago? What abut the kids?" I look them square in the eye and say, "We have no idea!" I believe in God, so I know as tough as this is for us, all the not knowing, we have to walk in faith. Sometimes God gives me a pass and I get to simply say I have faith; other times I have to put my money where my mouth is and keep moving forward without so much as a compass to guide me, because at that point it isn't about what I think, or want, it's about what God has planned. This is one the hardest thing I have ever had to do, as far as believing all things for reason. There is no point making big plans right now. We just have to live day to day and know we are not orphans. When we pray the "Our Father", we must believe that He is listening and guiding us, every step of the way.
This month, I had wanted to decrease my stress. A good friend and I were talking when she said the most amazing thing, "I will not commit to worry". I love this. I had been committing my time and energy to worry. I was actively making a decision to feel anxiety about things I had no control over. Since I was the one making the decision to do this, only I could make the decision to stop. You guessed it, I stopped, cold turkey, the day she pointed out that I was the only one who could stop my own runaway train. It's not that I don't feel the fear, I do, but once I feel it, I am the one who actively lets it go and stays in the "now". The future will happen, how I spend my time now is what I have control over. I never look back on my anxiety attacks and think, "That was time well spent. I wish I had felt twisted up longer". I make the decision everyday to keep a watchful eye out for little happy accidents all day long. I have noticed my surroundings, so much more recently. I am more aware of sights, sounds, tastes, than ever before. What I discovered is my ability to feel happy, regardless of what goes on around me. It's not like I never get angry or upset anymore, it's just that I can stop, take a breath and see the situation with new eyes in a way I have never been able to do before. I can change my internal environment before the melt down happens. I have to say, out of all my birthday gifts, this is the one I cherish the most.
In this last month I prayed somebody would want to buy our house because they loved it as much as we do. I got my answer, and they do. Some lovely couple saw our home and understood the feeling of the house as well as the aesthetics. I wish them very happy here. Our family has grown so much in this house. We love each other more every day, so for the new family moving in, I hope they grow in love and happiness in their new home.
I prayed for my kids to figure some things out, and they have.They are getting ready to be out on their own. They are expanding their minds and their hearts.
I prayed to get closer to my husband. The ticking clock, money, housework, cars, jobs all seem to take priority over time spent with each other. We have both made a concerted effort to get back to who we have always been to each other. We decided we are our first priority. Everything else will get done in due course after we spend time with each other. We are our household's foundation, so if we crack we are real trouble. Michael and I remain grateful that we have this union, him and me, and the rest(except the kids, of course), is just stuff. We determine our worth.
Everyday since starting this I get up first thing in the morning and list all the things I am grateful for. This includes the husband, kids, pets and home, but more than that I am grateful for me, mind, body and soul. I am grateful for the stretchmarks that crisscross across my body, showing the road map of my pregnancies. I am grateful for the blue eyes that now require bifocals and time to focus. I am grateful for the vein streaked legs that carry me around my world, and to my husband.
I am grateful for the racing thoughts in my head that turn into stories. I am grateful that I am naive enough to be child-like and still think the world is a wondrous, magnificent place and that most people are innately good.
So, what's the big payoff at the end of my 30 days? I didn't lose 30 pounds in 30 days, I lost 4. I didn't sell a thousand books, I sold 2. I didn't create any miracles, I merely acknowledged them. The big payoff for me, is I realize this is only the beginning of a new adventure. That and I really am happy, just the way I am, a gift I have never allowed myself before. I still have goals for the next 30 days, but if everything changes, that's OK. I am happy enough to know we are all going to just fine.

A Letter To My Children

I know you think you have heard all of my stories, and perhaps you have. But this one bears repeating. Sit down, turn off your phones and read this. It's important for you to know why you are here and what it took for us to come together as a family. These are things you need to know, while I am still able to tell you.

When I was a small child, I had friends who even at very young ages knew exactly what they wanted to be when they grew up. Women, in my generation, had fewer options than they do now, so picking a future vocation wasn't as challenging. Even as a tot, I knew I had talents, I could sing,act, write and play instruments. I could do math equations and read the written word and be touched by it. I could play hard, work harder and laugh easily. These things I knew I could do. What I wasn't sure of was what that meant for me. All I was certain of was that I wanted to be a mom.
As a tiny tot, I would line up six dolls all in a row in my little play house that I had set up in my families basement. The each had names and were individuals to me. I would dress them every morning, feed them the pretend food I had prepared and wave to their invisible father, as he headed off to his pretend job. I would spend hours in my basement caring for each of my "children" as the day flew by. I would cook, clean, give them nap time, sing them songs and play the little games I knew with them. I talked to them and told them how much I loved them and how happy I was they were with me. I was never lonely, even as I played by myself because I had the adoration and never ending love of my "kids". I comforted my dolls when they "cried", tucked them in when they were sleepy, and sang lullabies when they needed me to. I knew I was destined to be a mom, like some people know they are destined to be doctors or teachers. It was a certainty I had all my life.
When I met your father, he had told me all about how he wanted a big family. The first night we were together, I knew he was the one I would marry because we wanted the same things, to be parents.We talked more about you in future tense than we did ourselves in the present.
The days you were born, have been to this day, the greatest days of my life. I had waited so long for you to show up, it had left me breathless when you finally did. I can instantly recall seeing your faces in the exact moment I saw you for the first time. I remember thinking how amazing it was that I couldn't remember a single second of my life before you came along.
My Beloveds, you are reason enough for me to want to be better, do better and keep my heart open, even when things get tough, and I feel battered and bruised. You are my Academy Award, Pulitzer, Emmy and Grammy. You, my darlings, have taught me to see myself through your forgiving eyes and appreciate every day as the miracle it is.
I believe in answered prayers and miracles, because I have proof that God exists in you. I prayed for children, asking God to allow me the privilege to be your mom. I asked for the opportunity to see your faces and hold your hands. God answered my prayers each time one of you showed up.
I carried my six tiny children, just like I did when I was a child myself. When I lost two of you, I felt such heart break, such devastating loss, I thought I would not recover, but God offered me solace, hope and love in the four children who remained. I knew I had been blessed with six beautiful children, and that the two who left this earth would be well taken care of and waiting one day for me to show up.
My darlings, know this: I love you more than any words can allow. I spent my youth waiting for you to come into my life and take your rightful place in my heart. Every day I get to see your faces, hear your voices, feel the touch of your hands in mine, I know that my life's purpose is fulfilled. My covenant with God has come full circle. I asked for tiny miracles, He gave me so much more than I could have ever dreamed for myself.
While others had wanted adventure for their life, I thought I was asking for a more subdued existence. It turned out that I got the greatest adventure of all, I got you!

Joy Cometh In the Morning

I got up this morning and lit the candelabra over the outside table and watched the sun come up with my wiener at my side. He was laying on a cushion I bought as a happy accident. The cushion was originally supposed to go on a bench and it didn't fit. It is now used as my wiener pillow for Schnitzel and BoBo. They sleep together on it, side by side, watching for careless squirrels in the back yard.
It's been a peaceful morning for me, coffee cup in hand, appreciating my house and yard in a way I never have before. Before, I had always seen the flaws of the house, what needed to be done and things that needed to be repaired. But the work is done and the house is clean and organized and the hardest thing I have to do is not screw it up.
We have lilac bushes in the back and surrounding the house that are in full bloom. They are not like the lavender lilac bushes I grew up as a child, but have white flowers and a pungent smell that fills the air with the sweet smell of spring. Our plants, the ones that survived the harsh freeze this past winter, are all blooming now. The morning air is cool and full of moisture, the kind of moisture that Houstonians recognize as the early signs of the humidity to come in the summer. Summer for us, is right around the corner. Before we know it, pools will be full of families trying to escape the summer Texas heat.
I realized this morning, just how much I love my house. Funny how that happens right before we have to move. It's not my first time down this path of packing up all of our earthly belongings in order to move to a place I have to start over in. When I was a child I had wanted a large family and house I could grow old in. I never once in all the time I was growing up, pictured myself as the person who moves a lot. I felt certain when I got married the first time, I would die in the house where my children were born. I moved from hometown back in 1986 and I haven't stopped moving since. I have spent just enough years in my houses to grow gardens, fix up the interior and then sell it to someone else. So far every move has been a move forward. I feel blessed and reassured with that, but at this moment I feel a little tired. I feel tired of moving, tired of change, tired of the adventure that keeps us packing every few years. This house is the second longest I have gotten to stay in one place. Maybe that is why I am feeling more tired about this than excited. Maybe having been stationary for a little longer this time has me feeling resistant to packing up and moving on. Whatever it is, I am certain of one thing. When it's time to go, I will dutifully pack our belongings, buckle my seat belt, put my tray table in the upright position, and go.
For now, right this minute, I will love being exactly where I am. I take great joy in walking around my spotless house. Having kids, means never having a house that is 100% clean, but right now that is exactly what I have. Because the house is for sale, we clean every day. The kids make their beds, pick up their clothes, dust and vacuum, in order to be at the ready in case we have a showing. It's wonderful to live this way, in the land of "perfect". I walk around our newly mulched flower beds and mowed yard sniffing the blooms, pulling the occasional weed and taking in the sights and smells of all of our hard work. I feel very lucky to be this happy when all else in our life seems so uncertain.I could worry and hand wring about where we might have to go, whether or not I have to learn a new city, where I will ever get another job, etc., or I could sit here smelling the lilacs, feeling incredibly grateful that the kids are healthy, the wieners are content and I am deeply, madly in love with my best friend. For now I choose the latter, seeing that committing myself to worry just causes frown lines and over eating.
Today I am happy. Today I feel content and relaxed and grateful. Today I commit my energy to try and keep it that way.

See You In Ten

Years ago when I was broke and the bills were mounting and I had no one to ask for help, my birthday was right around the corner and children asked me what I wanted.I looked at their innocent faces and saw how sincere they were about wanting to get me something, anything to make me happy. Every day when they would wake up they would see my furrowed brow and downward mouth, terrified because I didn't know how we were going to survive another month.My fear and unhappiness were palpable.The heaviness of not making enough money, no matter how much I worked hung on me like an iron suit. My kids loved me enough to want to do anything they could to make me happy. I would look at them and answer, "I don't need anything" and hope the question would go away, because we didn't have money for my birthday. Rest assured, I always made sure we celebrated their birthdays, in order for them to feel important to me and to the family. What I hadn't counted on was me making them aware that I didn't feel worthy of the same. That was the lesson I taught my kids, "you can have the world and I can have nothing, so don't even bother to try and celebrate me. I will not allow it."
I see now how destructive that thought process is and how much it hurt my kids. They loved me and thought I was worth everything. I made them feel foolish for even thinking that. It breaks my heart now, looking back at how far I had fallen from the dreams I had had for myself when I was a child and thought I WAS worthy of happiness and a good life. It breaks my heart because my kids were too young to do anything on their own, even if it was against my opinion, and treat me the way they thought I should be treated instead of the terrible way I had begun to treat myself. Somewhere back then I had stopped being a mother to be celebrated and I became the martyr.
My kids still love me, thank God! I have outgrown my need to sit in sack cloth and ashes and tell the woeful tale of why I am not worth a birthday cake. My birthday is right around the corner on Mother's Day. Michael asked me what I wanted. I originally said a diamond tennis bracelet. We then looked at each other and laughed. I say that every year and every year we have someone graduating, college expenses or big utility bills staring us in the face. I have no doubt that one year I will get my bracelet, but for now, we will continue to look at each other and laugh. "I'm serious, Kel, what do you want this year?" I sat and stared at him as if he had just spoken a foreign language. I named a movie I want to own and then said "Um..." for the next several minutes. I had listed several things I thought I had wanted a month before now and found myself not really wanting anything. The truth is, I am happy. I am really not sure of what I want right at this moment. I have been happy for so long now, my list of wants has dwindled. it isn't like before when I would say I didn't want anything because we were too poor to get anything. Back then I had a million things I wanted. Mostly, what I wanted back then was to fill the gaping hole in my heart. I currently do not have that hole. Michael, the kids, the pets and my friends have filled it to the brim. Actually, my heart is overflowing.
Still, I have to come up with some tangible thing for them to get me so we can celebrate around a fire hazard cake and packages with shiny paper. i am not a stuff gal, but I have realized that sometimes people in your life just want to get you something pretty that you can enjoy. Since I do not like making the same mistakes twice, I will find something they can pick up or at the very least lead them in the right direction. I am quite willing to celebrate me with them. Being happy at my very core has taught me that it's wonderful to celebrate how far I have come.
In my forty seven years I have been married, had children, lost children, lost my kid's father, been a nurse, been a massage therapist, been a friend, been a listener, been a survivor and written a book. so many time in my 47 years I have thought, "Wow, I can't believe that happened and I have not only survived, but grown in the process!" So many occasions I have counted my lucky stars and known, I mean really known, how truly blessed I am. IO have been able to do some pretty wonderful stuff. I have accomplished things that were only dreams to me when I started.
For me now, my biggest birthday wish is to have another goal like I did when I started writing the book. There are days when I still can't believe I did it. I love the fact that I set my mind to doing it and I did. there have been plenty of times when I have made plans , only to have to let them go for one reason or another.
On May 9, I will celebrate with my family a day that truly is all about me. I will gorge myself with cake and ice cream and laugh at the silly cards they will give. I have come a long way since the days of my martyrdom. The future holds a whole lot of promise for this young lady!

I'm Just a Girl Who Can't Say "No"!

I am unable to say, "no" to rescuing animals. Michael on the other hand has no problem saying, "no, nyet, never, go!" I have been a sucker for animals since the day I was born. My mother will attest to the fact that I was forever dragging some raggedy animal home in order for us to save it. As a child I had thought I would be a vet, but I can't deal with sick animals. Humans I have no problem with handling. I have quite literally had my hands in places inside of people that no one should have to go and never winced. I have touched a human spine on a living person while doing a dressing for wound, and then went off and had lunch. Go figure.
We are now the proud owners of 3 dogs, 2 bratty cats and a sugar glider named Jeepers. Jeepers is the newest pet. Tom had a teacher whose kids didn't bond to the little sucker and she was giving him away. Thomas, unfortunately, has the compassion for animals via genes from his mother.
My dogs are for the most part pretty well behaved, sans one. Schnitzel, the dachshund, is ill tempered and feels completely entitled. I have never looked at my dogs as my children. I have to be honest,sometimes when people call their dogs their kids, I get upset because dogs don't give you stretch marks, teacher calls or need to go to college. pets don't require you teaching them how to stay out of jail. if you dog ends up in doggy prison, the pound, then you are the one to blame. I don't want to negate the intensity of attachment to pets, quite the contrary. I adore my pets, and my kids will be the first to tell you, I freely admit they are better behaved than my kids, most days. Although, it is true they are completely dependent on me for food, shelter and love, much like my own kids, they are easier to put to bed and they NEVER talk back. I love my pets and when anything has happened to them, or they have gotten sick or died, I have been devastated. But maybe it is not a good idea to compare that love to the love and devotion of parenting actual human beings.
My cats are lovable in their own right, as a favorite uncle would be, who rarely speaks, only hugs occasionally and shows up to see the family only when he wants to.They have their mind set on being independent and free thinking. just as my dogs fight for the privilege of the lap, my cats fight just as hard for quiet, undisturbed, alone time. Matches, the elder statesman, is 18 years old this year. I sneak up behind him almost daily and tell him to go to the light. He turns his head ever so slightly to give me his "Kiss my hairy butt" look and continues on napping. Hercules, the younger bratty cat is now 12 or 13. I can never remember. he acts as if he were a very young cat, bounding down the hallway, sneaking down the stairs to watch the wieners in their cages, taunting them as saunters to the kitchen to check things out. He knows if the wieners were loose, there would be blood. Most likely the wiener's blood. Hercules never has to fight the dogs, Matches will hunt the little dogs down and trap them behind the toilet, reminding them the claw is mightier than the bark, no matter how ferocious.
Jeepers the newest addition to our loud family is the loudest yet. As the smallest animal in our kingdom, he chatters in a way that makes you initially jump out of your own skin. He is part chipmunk, part flying squirrel, yet I call him a wombat.He looks a little in coloring like a lemur. He is nocturnal and pubescent, so days are not his friend. wake him up while the sun is shining and he will yell at you until you leave the room. He is a cheeky little monkey, who insists on getting dried blueberries and peanuts from me (grandma). He will ring his little bell to get your attention. He will grab onto the cage bars and rattle them, as if a prisoner from Alcatraz, so you will pay attention to him. He is demanding and a bit of a diva. When Tom has him out playing, he runs on his wheel, and takes flight out of the cage and jumps AT you. A calm demeanor is required to handle the Jeepers as he crawls all over you from stem to stern. He jumps from people to curtains to shelves with the grace of a Cirque De Soleil performer.
Ironically, none of the species really gets along with each other, but we haven't had an uprising since Jeepers wandered downstairs and took BoBo for a ride.

All of my animals are getting older, like their owner. Their eyes are beginning to dim, I notice with my bifocals on. We have been together for a long time, me and my crew. The walks we take are getting a little slower. The cats ignore us more now than ever except when food is involved and then Matches sits on the steps and calls out,"helloooooo". I try not to make him wait very long since he is an ancient cat.
I think this might be it for me, these animals. They are irreplaceable, one of a kind pets. They are part of what makes me think we are in for some very big changes. There are members in my animal kingdom who have already lived full lives and may not have too many years left. We are in the "every day is a gift" portion of the program. As they go, I am not sure if I will be so willing to say yes anymore. just as raising my kids has come to an end, maybe my tendency to own a petting zoo will dwindle as well. it's another "we'll see..." moment for me. For now I am enjoying my remaining time with my old dogs, my ancient cats and the baby Jeepers. As I write this, I just saw Matches peak his head around the stairway, as the three dogs lie in their respective beds snoring. BoBo's snoring is so loud that I have to increase the volume of the TV just to hear it. All is peaceful today in the kingdom, as it should be.