tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89886552024-03-14T04:30:26.966-05:00Pearls and DreamsDreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.comBlogger816125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-20589608691124113092013-02-26T18:43:00.001-06:002013-02-26T18:46:01.984-06:00Repeat ...Originally posted August 30, 2007 .<br />
.. Bold is today's answers
One word.<br />
No explanations.<br />
1. Yourself: growing <b>Growing</b><br />
2. Your spouse: MINE <b>Precious</b><br />
3. Your hair: thin <b>thin</b><br />
4. Your mother: sigh <b>SIGH</b><br />
5. Your father: no comment <b>No Comment</b><br />
6. Your favorite item: elephant collection <b>Degrees</b> (well -- 1 Associates and 1 BA in 10 weeks 6 days and 25 minutes)<br />
7. Your dream last night: nightmare <b>none</b><br />
8. Your favorite drink: coffee <b>coffee</b><br />
9. Your dream car: Bug <b>Bug</b><br />
10. The room you are in: kitchen <b>kitchen</b><br />
11. Your ex: forgiven <b>ill</b> :(<br />
12. Your fear: won't say <b>proven wrong</b><br />
13. What you want to be in 10 years: Christlike <b>Christlike</b><br />
14. Who you hung out with last night: family <b>family</b><br />
15. What you're not: brave <b>timid</b>
16. Muffins: none <b>lemon</b><br />
17: One of your wish list items: Books! <b>JOB</b><br />
18: Time: Private <b>Yoga</b><br />
19. The last thing you did: searched <b>homework</b><br />
20. What you are wearing: pajamas <b>pajama's</b><br />
21. Your favorite weather: cool <b>moderate</b><br />
22. Your favorite book: Little Women <b>Little Women</b><br />
23. The last thing you ate: Chocolate Milk <b>Hamburger</b><br />
24. Your life: Interesting <b>Interesting<i></i></b><br />
25. Your mood: anxious <b>calm</b><br />
26. Your best friend: BRAVE <b>Wonderful</b><br />
27. What you're thinking about right now: Friendship <b>Time</b><br />
28. Your car: Contour <b>Taurus</b><br />
29. What you are doing at the moment: fidgeting <b>typing</b><br />
30. Your summer: busy <b>working?</b><br />
31. Your relationship status: MARRIED <b>Married</b><br />
32. What is on your TV: PBS <b>Who's the Boss</b><br />
33. What is the weather like: HOT <b>COLD</b><br />
34. When was the last time you laughed: 2 weeks ago <b>Today</b><br />
<br />
Hat tip to Biscotti's Brain ..this one, was just too interesting to pass up. I didn't do a good job of sticking to the one word ..but ... I've never followed directions well ;)
Posted by Dreaming again at 2:27 AM
Labels: Meme's<br />
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<b>And that is me today ... February 26, 2013 .</b>.. Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-24662014594643104532013-01-30T23:53:00.002-06:002013-01-30T23:53:35.904-06:00TestingI'd had trouble posting on my blog and went to Wordpress .. and haven't done much posting over there either. I'm checking to see if I can post here or not. I'm still more fond of this blog ...
The widgit counter at the top is sadly inaccurate ... I did not graduate in December .. I graduate May 13 ... Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-61519458298226527532011-05-01T16:43:00.003-05:002011-05-01T17:03:30.324-05:00Bend but not break<blockquote>Isaiah 42:2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.</blockquote><br /><br /><a href="http://rlbatesmd.blogspot.com/">A blog friend</a> posted a picture today, of rushing waters and lillies that normally stand strong, flattened in the rushing water. I immediately thought of the above verse. <br /><br />There have been many times when I felt like I was drowning:<br />drowning in fear<br />drowning in nightmares<br />drowning in pain<br />drowning in confusion<br />drowning in poverty<br />drowning in fatigue <br /><br />The fires burned oh so hot <br />as the questions for the future encroached on my every waking, and sometimes sleeping moments<br />my future<br />my son's future<br />my husband's future <br /><br />There were days when I literally <br />could not lift the fork of food to my mouth<br />could not chew the scrambled eggs<br />could not hold my sons 4 oz bottle (of formula, because I was not strong enough to hold him to breast feed him) <br />could not dress myself<br />could not get my son into the program he so desperately needed<br />could not see how things could change<br /><br />The realities of life seemed to be too big as <br />the roof didn't just leak, it poured<br />the doctors gave me one more<br />diagnosis<br />medication<br />prognosis<br />the teachers gave me one more note saying<br />he's failing<br />he's struggling<br />he's loosing<br />The bills piled higher <br />The budget got cut <br /><br />No way out, no way in .. not way around it ... <br /><br />and yet .. <br />The roof did not get fixed .. <br />we got a house through Habitat<br /><br />The education did not get given<br />My son is a good guy, lots of character in<br />personality and <br />ethics<br /><br />The body did not heal <br />But it did improve<br />My husbands did not die<br /><br /><br /><br />The sun came out and a future was revealed <br /><br />And when it comes right down to it .. I know that every last minute of every fear, depression, discouragement .. I knew that God was with me, holding me, knowing that the sun was coming out and I'd stand again .. <br /><br />I was bent, and I was covered in water ..but I did not break. My roots learned that there are hard times and they planted just a bit deeper so the next time .. I'd have a better chance of standing strong. <br /><br />It's funny how hindsight gives us that, but I can see each trial, each struggle, each chaotic situation left me slightly better able to handle the next ... <br /><br /><br />this is Lupus awareness month ..and I thought about writing about how lupus has effected me and inside I was fighting that .. i did not want to write about how it has effected me and seeing that picture .. I realized<br /><br />I wanted to write about how lupus did not break me.Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-73289089448332810572011-04-15T17:33:00.002-05:002011-04-15T17:44:44.630-05:00PerspectiveA few nights ago, I was unable to sleep. That, in and of itself is not uncommon at all. I was trying to figure out in my mind what my next steps in school should be. I started to think of all the classes I've had to repeat ... <br /><br />those from when I went to school when I was too sick to be there and now i needed to repair my GPA <br /><br />Speech<br />Developmental Psych<br />Humanities 2<br />Computer concepts <br /><br />Those that I had to repeat because of my math issues <br />Beginning algebra<br />Intermediate algebra<br />Intermediate algebra <br /><br />And those that I had to repeat because NSU told me to take classes at TCC and then did not allow the credits to transfer ..but they were still required. <br />Child Psych<br />Personality Theories <br /><br />and all the extra time that it took and realized<br />if not for all the repeating ..<br />I'd be graduating in a month. <br /><br />Wow, I've got 3 semesters to go but I theoretically *could* be graduating this semester if not for the time taken up taking these classes (let's not even start to talk about the money!) <br /><br />Benjamin walked into my room and saw my face and asked what was wrong and I told him.<br /><br />He quietly said<br />"yeah, and if my IEP had been followed and if I hadn't repeated any classes, I'd be graduating in a month too"<br /><br />ouch <br /><br />he's not said anything about not being in school, not being able to finish, but obviously it is bothering him. <br /><br />And really ..what is 3 semesters? it's time, it's money and I'll be a year and a half older than planned when I finally get through, but the truth is, in a year and a half I'll still be 48 no matter if I'm working on my masters or finishing my bachelors ..and those 3 semesters won't prevent me from getting my masters and they very well may have me better prepared for my masters. <br /><br />But my son? his lost opportunities? those will be much harder to bounce back from. <br /><br />That is the true frustration.Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-43960858656911460192011-03-30T21:35:00.000-05:002011-03-30T21:35:46.355-05:00Video .. Just Showed Up for My own Life<iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/oobpudxA8Cc?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe> By Sara Groves and Joel Hanson Back to Album<br />Back to Lyrics Menu <br />Spending my time sleep walking<br />Moving my mouth but not saying a thing<br />Hoping the changes would take by working their way from the outside in<br />I was in love with an idea<br />Preoccupied with how a life should appear<br />Spending my time at the surface repairing the holes in the shiny veneer<br /><br />There are so many ways to hide<br />There are so many ways not to feel<br />There are so many ways to deny what is real<br /><br />And I just showed up for my own life<br />And I'm standing here taking it in and it sure looks bright<br /><br />I'm going to live my life inspired<br />Look for the holy in the common place<br />Open the windows and feel all that's honest and real until I'm truly amazed<br />I'm going to feel all my emotions<br />I'm going to look you in the eyes<br />I'm going to listen and hear until it's finally clear and it changes our lives<br /><br />There are so many ways to hide<br />There are so many ways not to feel<br />There are so many ways to deny what is real<br /><br />And I just showed up for my own life<br />And I'm standing here taking it in and it sure looks bright<br /><br />Oh the glory of God is man fully alive<br />Oh the glory of God is man fully alive<br /><br />There are so many ways to hide<br />There are so many ways not to feel<br />There are so many ways to deny what is real<br /><br />And I just showed up for my own life<br />And I'm standing here taking it in and it sure looks brightDreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-14311394588302309932011-03-17T18:39:00.002-05:002011-03-17T19:00:03.249-05:00Self Hatred and refomatting the brainYou're ugly.<br />You're stupid.<br />You're not liked.<br />You're immature.<br />You're a crybaby.<br />You're lazy.<br />You're in the way.<br />You're worthless.<br />You're boring.<br />You're a failure. <br /><br />These are things that come to mind when I look in the mirror or think about myself. <br /><br />They have permeated my life and the way I interact with the world. <br /><br />They make me keep people at arms distance ... the fear that if they knew who I really was (which is the list above) then they would not only not like me, but be disgusted by me. <br /><br />In the last several years I've been on a journey to change the way I live on this planet. <br />Somewhere on this journey I became aware of the fact that my filter that I see myself through is skewed. <br /><br />While I'd never pretend that everyone loves me (I can list several who barely tolerate me off the top of my head and a few who outright dislike me) by and large, I have a lot of friends. I have people who tell me they respect me and love me. <br /><br />I realized at some point that maybe rather than waiting for the other shoe to drop I needed to take a look through the filters that others see me. <br /><br />I worked at that for a long time with some success, but limited. <br /><br />Recently, I've taken to reformatting my brain ...through prayer, meditation, mindfulness, yoga and education. <br /><br />This has caused me to exam my thoughts and compare them to the facts. <br />Some of these thoughts, I can't quite get around ... but some ...some I can truly defend to my innerself as being invalid. <br /><br /><strong>You're stupid:</strong> You were in California's MGM program (mentally gifted minors ..is that not the most pretentious name for a program EVER?) You graduated with a high GPA. You interact with relative ease with those who society sees as intellectuals. You have gone back to school and maintained a 4.0 in credited classes. <br /><br /><strong>You're not liked:</strong> You have too many friends for this to be true. <br /><strong>You're a crybaby: </strong> You can't even name the last time you truly cried. <br /><strong>You're lazy.</strong>You have worked with church ministries, you have raised 2 challenging children, been married for 23 years while combatting chronic illness, pain, a frustrating educational system. You are going to school full time and doing quite well. <br /><strong>You're worthless.</strong> You have friends who value you, who respect you. You have children who respect you and value your presence in their lives. <br /><br /><strong>You're a failure.</strong> Your GPA is a 4.0 upon returning to school. You returned with a 2.1 GPA and have, through your 4.0 brought the cumulative GPA to 5.431. You are a member of Phi Theta Kappa, an officer in the regional alumni association. You are on track for being a member of Psi Chi. You have done all this inspite of MG, inspite of lupus, inspite of having family responsibilities. <br /><br /><br />In looking at those, it becomes glaringly clear ... self hatred has no true role in my life except to hold me down<br />keep me back<br />prevent me from living a full<br />fulfilling<br />enjoyable<br />and<br />delighted life. <br /><br />re forming the way I think and looking at truths rather than thoughts is going to be necessary to combat the self hatred I've lived with for so long.Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-38437086401702136852011-03-07T23:59:00.003-06:002011-03-08T00:22:31.748-06:00If Only In My DreamsI was asked today if I was able to have my dream job as a psychologist,what would it look like. <br /><br />In 1972 two mothers, armed only with a dream and a passion and a raised $3000 opened school for their special needs children. <a href="http://www.littlelighthouse.org/ourstory.html">The Little Light House</a> was born out of a desperate need to fill a void that was dark and deep. <br /><br />We had the privilege of being associated with the program while Benjamin was in kindergarten. That year remains in my heart as an oasis in a very dry, arid and frightenly vicious desert. Benjamin had a loving teacher, physical therapy, speech therapy and occupational therapy. For 1 very blessed school year, we got to take our son to school and did not have to cart him back and forth to 3 differnt types of therapy ... PT once a week, speech twice a week and OT three times a week .. from the age of 9 months till 11 years old ... except the year he spent at The Little Light House. We got a desperately needed break.<br /><br />Not only that, but we, as parents were loved and encouraged. <br /><br />If I were to dare to dream ... this is what my dream job as a psychologist would look like. The desire, the dream, the drive coming from much the same place as the founders of The Little Light House. <br /><br />If I had my dream job:<br /><br />I would have a place that housed <br />Physical Therapists<br />Occupational Therapists<br />Speech Therapists<br />Pediatric developmental specialist<br />Pediatric neuro<br />Pediatric psychiatrist<br />Pediatric Gastroenterologist<br />Pediatric orthopedist<br />Pediatric pulmonologist<br />Pediatric endocrinologist<br />Pediatric rheumatologist<br />Developmental Psychologists<br />Child Psychologists<br />Child Life Specialist<br /><br /><br />I would like there to be a small 'drop off'style day care where parents could drop the siblings of their child that is there to be seen, so they didn't have to bring them along to the appointment as an added distraction, hire a baby sitter or enlist family to help. <br />They would come in as a family, be serviced as a family and supported as a family. <br /><br />A place where if an evaluation was done and it was decided that the child needed a certain specialist, they would be there, in that building, an appointment could be made. <br /><br />You might be saying right now "That sounds like many children's hospitals all over america ... yes, probably so, but with one major difference: The family dynamic would be the focus. <br /><br />The child's developmental needs taken into consideration, referrals would be primarily in house, saving on time, paperwork, lost communication and stress. <br /><br />Therapies could be coordinated, treatments would be coordinated and the parents would be fully supported. <br /><br />The child would get the developmental, physical and behavioral support needed. The focus would be on 'no ceiling' for the child, reach for the stars ... <br /><br />The parents would be given the kindness, and support that is so often missing in the desert that is special needs. They would be given the tools they needed to feel like a competent parent. They'd be given time to enjoy their child .. to truly enjoy and laugh with their child. <br /><br />If there was a school battle,we'd be able to help them. They'd be given the chance to form a stronger family unit. They'd be shown and told what they are doing RIGHT instead of the constant "you need to do this" <br /><br />A fully integrated Clinic, prepared to fully deal with the dynamic that the child's special needs bring. <br /><br />I am not a ground breaker, the chances are I will wind up at our already established Children's Hospital, I will work within an already functioning system ..<br /><br />but ... if I had my dream job ... it would be one that helped the child reach for the stars and we'd celebrate with the whole family when the child does lasso their star!Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-75461433162798996782011-02-27T18:34:00.002-06:002011-02-27T19:00:21.695-06:00Room full of tables.I found myself sitting in a room, a little too crowded, but not too bad. Another table or 2 in the room could have made for a little less knee knockage and plate clinking. But it was, in reality, not too bad.<br />I knew very few people in the room, just those at my little table, at least 4 of them.<br /><br />I was listening to some of them give speeches, campaign speeches, in hopes of earning enough people's respect and trust to vote them into office for the Regional offices of Phi Theta Kappa OK/Ark region.<br /><br />My fellow Alpha Mu Iota members and I kept our fingers, toes and anything we could cross, crossed for the youngest, newest member of our group. A young woman, 19, on the cusp of the reality that will be her future. Watching her give her story, knowing the back story, brought a tear to my eye.<br /><br />I found myself looking around the room and I had this sudden flash back to an earlier time in my life. Another room full of round tables with chairs on them where knees knocked, cups spilled and people made general chaos. The tables were smaller, the chairs were tiny and the purpose was far different. I also was not sitting in the room with those who the chairs and tables were meant for.<br /><br />I was sitting on my step fathers lap, my mother to my right and my kindergarten teacher across the table. I was 4 years old. The cut off for kindergarten was Dec 1, and my November 21 Birthday put me into the class much younger than the majority of my peers. An immature 4 years old, and rather small ... apparently, I was a handful for the teacher.<br /><br />She showed my mom my file, my letters all learned and the only one in the class that could not only count to 100, with the next highest being somewhere in the 30's (not revealed who or how high into the 30's) but I was able to recognize the printed form of the letters in any order and put them in order. My letters were clearly, neatly written, in both capital and lower case and my reading skills unmistakable. They were allowing me to go to "The Big Library" that was reserved for the 2nd to 6th graders, when the rest of the class went to "The Little Book room" the library for the kindergarteners and first graders.<br /><br />I can remember my step father patting either my hand or my chest. My mom nodding "hm hmms" acknowledging that they knew I could do all of these things. They, like my teacher were quite concerned with not my inability, but out right refusal to color within the lines, to write my letters on the line, in order as requested as well as my refusal to stay seated, not hollar out answers during story time and my insistance on chasing Harold around the playground.<br /><br />I was sitting in this room of round tables and little chairs while grown ups talked about my abilities and my 'refusals' and then I heard it ... "She just won't make it in a classroom. You need to take her out, and put her back into pre school."<br /><br />Maybe I shouldn't have understood, but I <span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong><em>CLEARLY </em></strong></span><span style="color:#000000;">understood what was meant. I, was not going to be allowed to come back to school. I was being sent either home, or to school with 'little kids' back to preschool that I'd already graduated from. </span><br /><br />I heard the words<br />All Day School<br />Immature<br />Stubborn<br />Leave.<br /><br />I can remember clearly, starting to cry and asked "But aren't I smart enough?"<br /><br />And I will never forget my mothers statement. In a matter of fact as if I should have understood this all along ... and if I'd wanted to, I could have had a different outcome ...she just looked at me and said<br />"Smart doesn't matter"<br /><br />and with that, my world turned upside down. .<br /><br />I went back to kindergarten the following year after spending the remaining of the world with an embarrassing pumpkin and jack and jill hill to play on. Only 'babies' would want these things!<br /><br />I continued to read, and to count, and to color and to learn ... and the next year in kindergarten, on the playground the kindergarteners I was now with were about my size instead of much bigger. The bigger kindergarteners were now on the other side of the fence and at recess seemed to gather and point ... "There's Piggie! She flunked kindergarten!"<br /><br /><br />Somewhere in this time I first heard the term "Minimal Brain Dysfunction" ...so there it was, I had a brain that was broken (and somehow knew that was what dysfunction meant!) and I'd flunked kindergarten. What chance did I have? After all, I'd already been told smart did not matter.<br /><br />That was it, I flunked kindergarten. It colored my thoughts of my school work clear through my high school graduation. I was not the high functioning student that could compete with my peers (and win) I was the person who flunked kindergarten.<br /><br /><br />So here I am, some 39 years later, 46 years old sitting in a room with larger chairs full of my peers. College students on the road to making a life for themselves. People of every race, color, socioeconomic status and age. I was by no means the oldest, not by a long shot. There were people who were much older, heavier and much younger and much thinner. There were people who were significantly healthier and some that were obviously in worse shape. I was a person in the middle of the room, watching speeches being given and I was suddenly struck with that memory of the round tables and smart didn't matter ... to realize I was here because Smart Does Matter ... to me .. it matters. <br /><br />I was suddenly not the minimally brain dysfunctioned girl ... I was not the one that could not, would not, should not ... but the one that not onlyc ould ... should but WAS DOING ... <br />I was in a room full of Phi Theta Kappa students ... an honor society for those who had maintained scholarship levels that deserved recognition. I was here with people who not only thought I belonged, but wanted me here ... <br /><br />I was a scholarly student whose stubborness is defined by one of the speakers (not about me directly, but boy did it feel that way!) as persistance ..the persisitance that would get me through to goal when the passion fades or seems far away. The persistance that once held me back was pushing me forward. <br /><br />Tears welled up in my eyes and I realized that I'd worked very hard to get here ... and smart, for me, does count for something. It matters ...but more than that I began to understand<br /><br />I matter.Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-34760225287143752542011-02-09T09:50:00.003-06:002011-02-09T10:17:30.527-06:00Apologies to Rogers and Hammerstein<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyUojshj0sbTI1nk9TWO95yueJd3eF5F69524ur5432ro4wscsYxh2ShcV_HmHLtFgmrXJBVY9Mj0Pi_iGMI9zcQIIszkAQdgMdbMjLoS8faILE3gcC02MzMCE6kkcBmGN77jr/s1600/2911l.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571720871369830018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyUojshj0sbTI1nk9TWO95yueJd3eF5F69524ur5432ro4wscsYxh2ShcV_HmHLtFgmrXJBVY9Mj0Pi_iGMI9zcQIIszkAQdgMdbMjLoS8faILE3gcC02MzMCE6kkcBmGN77jr/s320/2911l.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2NTjQzcXr1p65jcCHqXHgg9hO_vEdKOoZ2Q9j64yt1EtD_tUrjZsjI5dhcjaybrNyOEsDgoPHIG8GZtr32ghwynxDhkcfDkwPRakZi5Kz2Pw06OTNmsad48tBSSENBBeM441/s1600/2911i.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571720864560027570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2NTjQzcXr1p65jcCHqXHgg9hO_vEdKOoZ2Q9j64yt1EtD_tUrjZsjI5dhcjaybrNyOEsDgoPHIG8GZtr32ghwynxDhkcfDkwPRakZi5Kz2Pw06OTNmsad48tBSSENBBeM441/s320/2911i.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-htImB0a3NaNRhBt_8l3r_wvMyr5rLnzAdj9JuBnKk6N7S1LYVUfTaeIHpOyfKSI499AYd_IYSd771GRj9ZMIqyKLsr0JjUS-PEvQ_DiCJjdl_jPrtitpSI0ydu1KjWmSkTK5/s1600/2511g.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571720861144697186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-htImB0a3NaNRhBt_8l3r_wvMyr5rLnzAdj9JuBnKk6N7S1LYVUfTaeIHpOyfKSI499AYd_IYSd771GRj9ZMIqyKLsr0JjUS-PEvQ_DiCJjdl_jPrtitpSI0ydu1KjWmSkTK5/s320/2511g.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VWT-oU248YP2AanDpGARpeZstveeDYscMFKBXsJ1sKbjIpw-DvKaoF8BCBzUT0XH5wsHevFTaTtZJglk5-jjFW_6AGg0rPOKDy4nSDcELjN1y4LN6gOs05d2CnK3nho-9Bfw/s1600/2911e.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571720858690982562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VWT-oU248YP2AanDpGARpeZstveeDYscMFKBXsJ1sKbjIpw-DvKaoF8BCBzUT0XH5wsHevFTaTtZJglk5-jjFW_6AGg0rPOKDy4nSDcELjN1y4LN6gOs05d2CnK3nho-9Bfw/s320/2911e.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>There's a bright whitened haze on the meadow</div><div>There's a bright whitened haze on the meadow<br />The snow is as high as an elephants eye</div><div>And it looks like it's climbing clear up to the sky </div><br /><br /><div>Oh what a cold frigid morning</div><div>Oh what a cold frigid day </div><div>I've got a terrible feeling </div><div>More snow is coming my way </div><br /><br /><div>All the cattle are frozen like statues</div><div>All the cattle are frozen like statues</div><div>They don't turn their heads as they see me ride by</div><div>But a little brown mav'rick has a glare in her eye </div><br /><br /><div>Oh what a cold frigid mornin'</div><div>Oh what a cold frigid day,</div><div>I've got a terrible feeling,<br />More snow is coming my way! </div><br /><br /><br /><div>All the white on the earth is makin' me sick</div><div>All the white on the earth is makin' me sick</div><div>The breeze is so busy it don't miss a tree</div><div>And an ol' weepin' willow is hiding from me!</div><br /><br /><div>Oh what a cold frigid mornin'</div><div>Oh what a cold frigid day</div><div>I've got a terrible feeling</div><div>More snow is comin' my way</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div>Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-78240942176596950822011-02-05T14:00:00.002-06:002011-02-05T14:42:48.541-06:00Not quite the tribute that is normally on this date.I have sat here with an open screen for over 20 minutes, unsure of what to post.<br /><br />It's annual post I make every year. Either on today, Feb 5, or on January 31st.<br /><br />January 31st was my step father's birthday.<br /><br />Febuary 5th is the annivesary of his death.<br /><br />In 1979 he turned 50 years old on January 31st. On February 5th, he took his own life. I was 14 years old.<br /><br />In 32 years he, by his own choice, has missed:<br />My high school graduation<br />My 1st wedding<br />My divorce<br />My 2nd wedding<br />My first pregnancy<br />My only stillbirth of a daughter ... my only daughter<br />My second pregancy<br />My first sons birth<br />My third pregnacy<br />My youngest sons birth<br />My diagnosis of chronic and at times, debilitating illness.<br />My sons diagnosis'<br />My oldests graduation from high school<br />My mother's decline .. emotionally, physically, socially, financially<br />My return to college<br />My induction into PTK<br /><br /><br />Those are the highlights and some of the lowlights ...<br /><br />Everyone one of them, I needed him there.<br /><br />When people say they've lost someone they love, they often mention that 'not a day goes by without thinking of them' and that is certainly true for me.<br /><br />I have identified myself as a survivor of suicide for so long ... and today, as I've tried to write this ... I've realized that I am no longer identifying myself that way ...<br /><br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"><span style="color:#000099;"><span style="font-size:130%;">I AM A SURVIVOR of</span> <span style="color:#ff0000;">LIFE</span>.</span> </span></em></strong><br /><span style="font-size:180%;color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">You should be here, there is no doubt. Though, in recent months and years, I've started to realize that you may have died by other causes by now. Still, you would have only been 82. Your mother was alive and kicking, as were many of your aunts and uncles. Your cousin that is your age is still alive ... as are others. There is not real reason to think you might not still be here. </span><br /><br />In 32 years, I've rarely allowed myself to be angry at you ... you were hurt and broken and desperate. I understand ... but ...<br /><br />My tributes to you are normally filled with all the love I've felt for you ... how much I miss you. I guess, this year, it's filled with regret, some anger, a lot of frustration and ...more than I'd ever thought of ..<br /><br />release.<br /><br />I loved you. I LOVE you.<br />You taught me almost everything good about life. When people hear of my history they have asked "why are YOU ok?"<br />honestly it's because you taught me to pray, to look for good, to not give up. Ironically, that was the lesson you spent the most time on ...encouraging me to not give up .. not quit ...<br /><br />but you did not live by your own lessons.<br /><br />But you also taught me the worst pain and the worst trauma that I could have imagined.<br /><br />I keep trying to end this on a good note. I guess, this year .. it's not going to happen. I will always miss you. I will always be grateful for your love. I will always be so glad of the lessons you taught me. I will always MISS you<br /><br />and that<br /><br />was your choice.Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-73566899104997279282011-02-04T16:24:00.000-06:002011-02-04T16:24:02.980-06:00BILLY JOEL - Pressure<iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/WHwLHC_SILA?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" allowfullscreen=""></iframe> 15 inches of snow on Tuesday, and more today has cancelled school for the week. I should have met w/my classes 16 times and have met 10 times ... 6 classes cancelled for snow days! I recieved updated Syllabi today and have found myself humming Billy Joel's song "Pressure" ... Decided to post it ..and listened ...completely forgot "Psych 1 Psych 2" were part of the song!! "Psych major goes nuts while listening to Billy Joel sing the words "Psych 1 Psych 2 news at 11" .....Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-16692240321249283442011-01-09T23:06:00.000-06:002011-01-09T23:06:24.762-06:00"Painting Pictures of Egypt" by Sara Groves<iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/iUYAmVYnC-Y?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425"></iframe><br />I was wondering, today, why I'm working so hard ... will I ever get to where I'm going ...either in recovering from the eating disorder (ok, so that was what triggered the thoughts) or even with school ... been a bit discouraged of late ... got in the car and went to the grocery store ...punched in my new CD that Don gave me for Christmas and this song played ... I was painting pictures of Egypt ... I don't want to leave here, I don't want to stay ..it feels like pinching either way .. and the places that I long for the most are the places where I've been, they are calling out to me like a long lost friend.<br /><br />It's not about losing faith,<br />It's not about trust<br />It's all about comfortable<br />When you move so much<br />And the place I was wasn't perfect<br />But I'd found a way to live<br />And it wasn't milk or honey<br />But then neither is this.<br /><br />The past is so tangible<br />I know it by heart<br />Familiar things are never easy<br />To discard<br />I was dying for some freedom<br />But now I hesitate to go<br />And I'm caught between the PROMISE<br />and the things I know.<br /><br /><strong>I've been painting pictures of Egypt,</strong><br /><strong>I've been leaving out what it lacks</strong><br /><strong>The future feels so hard,</strong><br /><strong>And I wanna go back!</strong><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">But the places that used to fit me,</span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">Cannot Hold the things I've learned</span></em></strong><br />Those roads were closed off to me<br />While my back was turned!<br /><br />If it comes too quick<br />I may not appreciate it<br />Is that the reason behind it all<br />this time and sand?<br />And if it comes too quick<br />I may not recognize it<br />is that the reason behind it all<br />this time and sand?Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-9054093694379881042011-01-05T17:34:00.004-06:002011-01-05T22:05:46.531-06:00Everything Matters ... Nothing MattersI heard a song today by Sara Groves that I'd not heard before. It's called "Rewrite this tragedy" and I realized .. it all matters ..and yet none of it matters.<br /><br />Everything that has happened has made me who I am today ...good and bad.<br />I have made bad decisions, I have made good decisions.<br />People have hurt me, I have hurt people. I've been betrayed, I've betrayed. I've been abandoned and I've abandoned .. it all plays into how i make today's choices.<br /><br />Yet in the grand scheme of things ...nothing NOTHING is so bad that it can't be undone.<br />Nothing is so good, so right so perfect that it can't be unstrung.<br /><br />My heart can be broken today, and leaping tomorrow and visa versa.<br /><br />Today, I can have a roof with a hole the size of a bucket ..and tomorrow I can be walking through the door of a house that love built.<br /><br />Today, I can have the perfect job and tomorrow I can be laid off.<br />Today I can be in pain, unable to walk and tomorrow i can be running a marathon and tomorrow not walking again.<br /><br />Everything changes ... every choice we make, every decision ... every move changes the next move and yet, in the end, it all seems to work out.<br />There is nothing that I can do, short of taking my own life, that is permanent.<br />The most consistant thing in life is change.<br /><br />I can make choices that make life harder ... I could rob a bank and make life really hard.<br />There are choices I can make that make life harder in the short term but improve life ..like working to get a habitat house .. or a degree.<br /><br />I can refuse to take algebra at 14 and struggle through it at 46 ..<br />I can refuse to take a supervisory job because I don't know that at 24 I'm going to be wiped out by my own immune system and have my disability payment significantly lower than it would have been had I taken the management payment.<br /><br />I can quit ... or I can finish .. and in the long run it all seems to work out ...struggles come, struggles go .. but the consistancy of life is that it changes ...<br /><br /><blockquote><p><strong>Lyrics to Rewrite This Tragedy :<br /></strong>Tonight I forgot a<br />line in the play that you and I Have been rehearsing since the day we met</p><p>It made<br />me put down my script, made me look around a bit</p><p>And wonder how we came to play<br />these roles<br />I'm here to re-write this tragedy</p><p>One line at a time</p><p>Hold on, </p><p>I'm<br />changing all the scenery</p><p>It's okay we'll be fine</p><p>Cause we know how this<br />ends<br />Sometimes it's hard to tell what to keep and what to kill</p><p>What of this<br />makes us who we are</p><p>All that we love the most, all that we cannot let go</p><p><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">How much<br />of change can we survive?<br />I'm here to re-write this tragedy</span></strong></p><p>One line at a<br />time</p><p>Hold on,</p><p>I'm changing all the scenery</p><p>It's okay we'll be fine</p><p>Cause we know<br />how this ends</p><p>We know there's a better story<br />There's a better story</p><p>Of true<br /><strong>love of true grace</strong></p><p>There's the hope of glory</p><p>And our first chance to be truly<br />brave</p><p>It's the place we're goingWhen we can't stay where we are<br />I'm here to<br />re-write this tragedy</p><p>One line at a time</p><p>Hold on, I'm changing all the scenery</p><p>It's okay we'll be fine</p><p>Cause we know how this ends</p><p>We know there's a better<br />story</p><p>Tonight I forgot a line in the play that you and I Have been rehearsing<br />since the day we met</p><p>It made me put down my script, made me look around a bit</p><p>And<br />wonder how we came to play these roles<br />I'm here to re-write this tragedy</p><p>One<br />line at a time</p><p>Hold on,</p><p>I'm changing all the scenery</p><p>It's okay we'll be fine</p><p>Cause<br />we know how this ends<br />Sometimes it's hard to tell what to keep and what to<br />kill</p><p>What of this makes us who we are</p><p>All that we love the most, all that we<br />cannot let go</p><p>How much of change can we survive?<br />I'm here to re-write this<br />tragedy</p><p>One line at a time</p><p>Hold on, I'm changing all the scenery</p><p>It's okay we'll be<br />fine</p><p>Cause we know how this endsWe know there's a better story<br />There's a<br />better story</p><p>Of true love of true grace</p><p>There's the hope of glory</p><p><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">And our first<br />chance to be truly brave</span></strong></p><p>It's the place we're going</p><p>When we can't stay where we<br />are<br />I'm here to re-write this tragedy</p><p><strong>One line at a timeHold on,</strong></p><p><strong>I'm changing<br />all the scenery</strong></p><p><strong>It's okay we'll be fine</strong></p><p><strong>Cause we know how this ends</strong></p><p><strong>We know there's<br />a better story<br /></strong></p></blockquote>Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-57098168981207842552011-01-04T19:45:00.004-06:002011-01-04T20:02:45.944-06:00This and That<span style="font-family:arial;">You can't ground children who have moved out of the house ... this is not a good thing. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">My schedule for this spring is as follows:</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Tuesday Morning 9-11:40</strong> .. <span style="color:#990000;"><em><strong>Physiological Psychology</strong></em></span></span> (or Psychophysiology same thing)</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Tuesday Afternoon 4:30 - 7:10</strong> <span style="color:#990000;"><em><strong>Personality Theories</strong></em></span></span> (if this course looks familiar it's because I complained relentlessly about it spring of 2009 ..which apparently was an introduction level class ... and I could have gotten away with just this one. So sad) </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Wednesday Afternoon 4:30 -7:10</strong> <em><span style="color:#990000;"><strong>Human Adjustment</strong></span></em></span> (follow up class to Intro to Counseling) </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Thursday Afternoon 1:00-3:40</strong> <strong><em><span style="color:#990000;">Infant/Child Psychology</span></em></strong></span> (what? what's that you say ... you remember me complaining last spring about child psych [in all fairness, I complained about instructor, not so much the class] ahhh good memory ... apparently a lot of what I took at TCC was considered 'introductory' and I get to retake ... sigh) </span><br /><br />I think it will be nice just having class 3 days a week. Tuesdays have the promise of being tiring ...Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-73008976619519788602011-01-02T16:42:00.001-06:002011-01-02T16:45:57.142-06:00Doogie Howser, M.D. - "A Mother-Son Relationship"<iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/N1WnfMFUqWQ?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425"></iframe>It occurred to me that Doogie Howswer MD was on 20 years ago and maybe not everyone knew what I meant.<br />so in the spirit of trying to blog, even if it's short and sweet, I thought I'd post this ... ironic that I was thinking about a mother's love just this morning.Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-13622561658762436772011-01-01T15:00:00.003-06:002011-01-01T16:09:01.292-06:00January 1, 20111-1-11<br /><br />I can remember watching science fiction TV show as a young teenager Space 1999 ... what worlds we'd thought we'd conquer before the end of the century.<br /><br />As fast as technology was exploding, we, in our human imaginations, thought it would expand much faster ... and we, of coarse, having the power to creat such technology would also be able to control such technology.<br /><br />I sit here, amazed at how life has changed in my 46 years on this earth.<br /><br />I remember black and white TV ... I remember getting a color TV set and having the neighbors come to see it.<br />I remember the first tape recorder we had ... and what a treat it was ... we taped all our records onto tape so that we could listen to them and not worry about scratching them. (Ironic that CD's have brought us back to the days of scratching ... my very favorite song on my very favorite CD from my very favorite singer ... is scratched and unplayable :( .. a tad ironic)<br /><br />I remember telling my sister, after she'd thrown a pillow at me and I missed something 'important' on Gilligan's Island (the nerve huh?) that we should have a TV that rewinds, fast forwards, allows us to see what we missed and not have to watch commercials. She told me I was crazy. I was 10. In less than 10 years my father had a VCR ...<br /><br />I remember calling home one day after school to see if I could go to Jennifer's house ..and no one was home, yet the phone was answered! My step mother's voice said "You have reached the Mills Residence, please leave your name and number and we will get back to you as soon as we possibly can"<br />I freaked<br />I handed the phone to Jennifer<br />Jennifer said "this is Peggi. I'm going to Jennifer's. I'll be home before 5"<br />I got home and promptly grounded for 'lying' because I was too scared to talk to this machine. As most will tell you, I still hate to leave messages.<br /><br />Not too long after that, I came home to my dad and step mother playing with this funny box on the counter. It took about a min to bring water to a fast/hard boil.<br /><br />For the next 3 weeks, every meal we ate was microwaved. I still will not cook meat (rarely even defrost it) in the microwave.<br /><br />My mom didn't get one until after my step father died in 1979. She used his life insurance to buy it and I always related the 2 in my mind. I refused to get a microwave ... till I had a baby and realized that life just could be easier without it having any weird meaning attached to it. Now, my microwaves are a daily part of my life ..but they have a bad habit of crashing on either christmas or Thanksgiving.<br />we call it the Eagler Curse ... either someone gets sick on a holiday or the microwave goes out. The microwave spent the week before Christmas acting funny, so we thought it was going to be the microwave ... I got the flu instead. I hate the flu, but honestly, it's cheaper.<br /><br />I was a telephone teen. My step dad used to tell me that a potato was growing in there and we'd never know it because the phone was attached. (don't ask, I never did figure the logic out in that one). Shortly after he died a sales man showed up on our doorstep and changed my teenage years.<br />No more getting grounded for being on the phone longer than I was allowed. We had 30 min on, 30 min off rule (plus had to share with sister) so that parents could get through at some point. They didn't care if we stayed on all the evening if we left 30 min segments so they could get through. I had a bad habit of 2 hours on, 10 min off ... got me grounded frequently!<br />The salesman offered something called "call waiting" .. no more not getting through and I was able to keep the phone on my ear from the time I got home from school till I went to bed ....except for the times my sister punched me to force me off so she could make a call.<br /><br />My sophomore year in high school a new elective was offered. There were those in the community that thought the school was nuts for providing it. Computer programming. TI 994A's were the computers ... and it seems that no one was really interested out side of the school. Computers ... in the house? Sure, why would anyone even NEED it?<br /><br />10 years later we were discussing the oncoming world changing World Wide Web ... the internet highway that would change the world ...and how it has!<br /><br />Computer speed, wifi, lap tops, phone computers ... streaming movies to our TV sets ... Wii ... video games ... and most importantly (said tongue in cheek , I assure you)<br />Blogging and Twitter!<br /><br />through blogging I've poured out my heart<br />shared my poetry<br />told funny stories<br />told heartbreaking stories<br />Ranted<br />Raved<br />Relented<br />Wrote a novel w/NaNoWriMo<br />Shared my struggles with bad habits<br />shared my conquests<br />Shared my journey<br />Shared my progress<br />Shared my failures<br />Shared my HEART<br /><br />It's a new year ..what technology will we see that we only saw in Sci Fi movies? what technology will be abused (texting was great till people started dying in car crashes and teens being victimized by sexting ..and not even knowing their being vicitmized ..what will psychologists be saying in 30 years over that current trend and it's fall out?)<br /><br />I keep trying to decide if I'm going to blog more consistently or just stop. Stopping, is'nt likely, it's too handy of an outlet for the writer in me. I do think that I figured out that I think every post Must be profound ... and I'm not sure that is is a must. Maybe I just should work on writing a bit each day ... Doogie Howser style if necessary<br /><br /><strong>January 1, 2011 ... I thought about what all I have to say today. I learned that sometimes saying a little is better than saying a lot or nothing at all. </strong><br /><br />(after thought here ...Was Doogie Howswer the world first blogger?).Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-13053864943129071362010-12-21T18:10:00.002-06:002010-12-21T18:28:48.566-06:00PerspectivesApparently my neurologist and I have dramatically different ideas of what remission and partial remission are.<br /><br />To ME ..remission is 100% symptom free without the aid of medication<br />To ME partial remission is 100% symptom free with the aid of medication.<br /><br />Active disease on a regular basis is not remission.<br /><br />Dramatic improvement to have full days ... even several days a week ...without symptoms ...<br />But as long as I'm having a couple of days a week where symptoms exist, I'm not sure I consider that a partial remission ...<br /><br />Well Controlled<br />Not Brittle<br />Tolerable<br /><br />but not remission<br /><br />My neurologist, today, used the phrase '<em>partial</em> remission' to describe my current state.<br />He emphasized the word '<em>partial</em>'<br /><br />When I said I still have symptoms, most days, although certainly not every day and the fatigue I deal with is more of a lupus fatigue than MG fatigue (yes, they are distinctly different and I have made enough progress to know the difference)<br /><br />he responded with "yes, but unless you take a dangerous medication, ignore an infection or run yourself into the ground, you're not in danger of myasthenic crisis any longer. You don't have to worry about crisis coming up to bite you on the ass as it's done in the past."<br /><br />he had a medical student with him and I chose to not remind him that most of my crisis' came on the heels of dramatic/fast weight loss due to severe restrictive behavior related to my eating disorder ...<br /><br />I guess what I'm trying to decide is ... is this a difference of perspective? A difference of opinion? Is it medically significant?<br /><br />He recognizes that I have symptoms on a regular basis and still need medication.<br />He recognizes that things are still difficult<br />He emphasized the word partial<br />He emphasized that my own behavior controls much of the symptoms (and oddly enough, it does. I do not have symptoms on days I don't do much unless I'm not doing much because I'm in a flare)<br />He made it clear that he knows it is medication related and therefore I need to be medically treated as if the disease were 'active'.<br /><br />So, does it matter, in the long run, if I think partial remission is symptom free and he thinks it's well controlled?Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-8040497781454286942010-12-09T21:13:00.003-06:002010-12-09T21:19:34.266-06:00Drive By PostingMy semester is done ... it's been a nightmare of a semester. Not the one bad class I normally have, but 2 bad classes.<br /><br />I felt the entire semester like I was caving under the stress ... and managed to pull out A's ... Sensory and Perception (one I had no idea what I was getting because he'd not returned 2 tests!) I got 913 out of 900<br />Abnormal Psych I got 609 out of 600<br />and Intro to Counseling I got 298 out of 300<br /><br />Thank Goodness for Extra Credit!!<br />Extra Credit made a lot of difference and had i not gotten full credit on my big paper or my portfolio, I'd have been skimping the edge of the 90% range<br />I still don't know about algebra ... sigh.Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-87811642064402232762010-11-06T20:08:00.002-05:002010-11-06T20:16:15.143-05:00Blogging the Time AwaySo, several years ago, a friend asked me to read her blog. I did, I kept reading. Then she tried to convince me to start blogging. She finally did.<br /><br />6 years and a few days ago, I began my blogging journey. Soon after I found Grand Rounds and there I met a host of people ... many of which I'm still in contact with on a regular basis, others less often and some, I've lost contact all together.<br /><br />Family have found my blog, friends have found my blog and an occassional friend or two has started their own blogs.<br /><br />When I started, I had the intent of blogging primarily health issue, maybe eating disorder issues. It very soon turned into a general life issue.<br /><br />I've blogged about lupus, about myasthenia gravis, about eating disorders, insulin resistantce, hospitalizations, surgeries, working for the opportunity to build a house through habitat for humanity, BUILDING said house through Habitat forHumanity, IEP struggles, homeschool problems, joys of parenting, pains of parenting, life chaos, life joy. I've poste pictures and poetry, failures and successes, depression and elation.<br />I've posted through my husbands brush with death,<br />my son's learning about life.<br />I've posted about going back to school.<br />I've posted much (but not all) of my life over the last 6 years. I'm not sure where it will lead or how long I will continue ... but for now it's here and it's been a great time, and an honor. Thank you to each and everyone who has read , commented and prayed.Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-41116790489119180192010-10-22T13:25:00.003-05:002010-10-22T13:32:50.487-05:00It is what it isRecently, I was asked what it was like to be back in school at my age ... a few thoughts come to mind:<br /><br />struggling to gain knowlege/skills in an area that I've always struggled with while watching students younger than my youngest is not fun and plays havok with my emotions.<br /><br />Struggling to understand what comes so easily for others ... plays havok with my emotions<br /><br />Remembering being given a list of facts to study for a test and reading it a couple of times and acing the test while I have to crack the books now, and actually STUDY to learn and understand because memorization is not going to happen like it did when I was a kid ... plays havok with my emotions.<br /><br />Having a hot flash in the middle of algebra ...plays havok with my desire to not make a fool of myself. (this happened on Monday!)<br /><br />Understanding concepts that seem foreign (and unfathomable) to my peers because they cannot imagine ever making the choices I've made or choices those we're studying have made ... boosts my self esteem.<br /><br />Understanding that this will allow me to change my reality once I finally get those coveted letters behind my name is priceless and keeps me focused.<br /><br />Knowing this is not an exercise in futility as some of my classmates fear ... is priceless.<br /><br />Knowing it's improving who I am as<br />a woman<br />a wife<br />a mother<br />a citizen of Oklahoma<br />a citizen of the United States<br />a patient<br />a human<br />is unimaginable.<br /><br />Being unsure of how this will all play out in the grand scheme of things .. a bit disconcerting.<br />Being unsure, at times, that physically this will work .. a bit disconcerting.<br /><br />Being sure that I have no choice but to proceed because the what if's would haunt me forever ...comforting.Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-83253959056635870972010-10-11T17:27:00.003-05:002010-10-11T18:06:48.801-05:00long semesterAugust 30, Benjamin wakes up sick ...and today, October 11, is his first day back at school.<br /><br />It's been a long several weeks.<br /><br />We've had many concerns for the present and his future.<br /><br />We've made some choices that others will not agree with, but ...we have to do what we feel is best. The scary thing is, on more than one occassion those choices did not turn out to be the best. But, I can only go with what I have now when making the choice.<br /><br />Front and center in my mind is the choice to hold him back after kindergarten. The idea was that he'd have an extra year to learn the academics and mature. The maturity came, but the academics did not, and because he'd been held back, while the deficits between his age and his ability were strong, the deficits between GRADE and ability were not as strong. So, the district being who they are did not give him an IEP (without a court order) until 2nd grade.<br /><br />Their idea of 'early intervention' is IEP by the 3rd grade ... that's not early ... when they qualify at age 3.<br /><br />He's struggled for his entire life. He's been behind the 8 ball, so to speak from the moment he was born.<br /><br />Our choices now seem to be the lesser of the evils, but by no means, a good choice!<br /><br />I'm sure I post more later, but for now, those choices will remain private.<br /><br />As far as me and the difficult class ...we're still on the eye. For 8 weeks, we've been on the eye and vision and at least one more week to go ... I'm ready for some other senses to study!Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-82004235445741037962010-10-01T09:13:00.000-05:002010-10-01T09:13:19.462-05:00Breathing Again<p><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/O_o8aS81X-w?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/O_o8aS81X-w?fs=1&hl=en_US" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object><br /><br />So, I get up at 6:30 to go to the Beginning Algebra class my instructor invited me to. I go to the 8 am class, come home and spend the day studying for tonight’s test. The information is dense, the topic is difficult and communication lacking with the professor.<br />Nothing with the referral has changed and my schedule seems impossible to keep up. Doubts about my physical ability to get through this process were creeping in …<br />Doubts about my ability to provide what my son needs were starting to overwhelm.<br />Doubts … doubts … and fear.<br />I drive to school and I tell God I cannot take yet another stress and have got to have some of the stressors removed.<br /><br />I’m sitting in the middle of the test about ganglion retinal cells, LGN and parvocellular and it’s functions and a tune pops into my head … la lalala la la la…<br />A few more questions and the tune persists …<br /><strong><span style="color:#3333ff;">La lalalallalla …</span></strong><br />As I look at the essay questions sure I do not know the answer for any of them I started to struggle to breathe …fighting the tears and the words<br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">“you cannot loose my love”</span> to the tune going through my head …<br />I finish the test, I go out to my car and turn on the CD in the car, the song playing finishes and the next song starts<br /><br /><span style="color:#000099;"><strong>You will loose your baby teeth, at times you’ll lose your faith in me. You will lose a lot of things, but you cannot loose my love.</strong></span><br /><br />I sit there for a few minutes, taking breathes that I’d not breathed in several weeks, if not since the day Benjamin got sick … feeling it go from my nose to my throat ..to my chest and into my abdomen …<br /><br />I realize that I’d let stress take the place of my faith. I’d let my choices for coping loom as an option …</p><p><br /><span style="color:#000099;"><strong>“you may lose your appetite, your guiding sense of wrong or right”<br /></strong></span></p><p>I’d let what I’d experienced replace what I knew to be true … </p><p><br /><span style="color:#000099;"><strong>“You may lose your will to fight, but you cannot lose my love” </strong></span></p><span style="color:#000099;"><strong><p><br /></strong></span>Something happened this time … nothing kicked in my fight mode, I was left feeling worn down, tired and helpless … When there is a fight, I know what to do. I know what steps to take. I know what the enemy is and where it is and how to fight it. But with this … this was just a reminder of all I was not, could not do and how helpless I was. </p><p><br /><strong><span style="color:#000099;">“you will loose your confidence, in times of trial your common sense”</span></strong><br /><br />I was putting all my eggs, all my sons eggs, into one basket, and the responsibility for the protection of those eggs were all on me. They weren’t God’s or my husbands … they were all up to me and I was seeing them flying through the air and being smashed in a gooey mess on the ground.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#000099;">You may lose your innocence,<br />But you cannot lose my love.<br /></span></strong><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"><strong><em>I cannot lose His love … and the breathe reached my toes. I could feel the peace flooding over me, with each inhale and protection of my God with each exhale …</em></strong></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#000099;"><strong>Many things can be misplaced;<br />Your very memories be erased.</strong></span> </p><p><br />I’d forgotten, briefly …what I believed. I put my faith for my child in my hands. I forgot that HE is my source of strength, not me.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#000099;">No matter what the time or space,<br />You cannot lose my love.<br />You cannot lose,<br />You cannot lose,<br />You cannot lose my love.</span></strong> </p><p><br />One way or another, it will be ok. My son will be ok. I will be ok ..no matter the outcome … we will be ok. Not because I’ve done all the right things or never made a misstep ..but because my faith is in the one who made me … he’s been here with me each and every moment, waiting for the moment I turn to Him and let Him breathe in me.<br /><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">You Cannot Lose My Love<br />By Sara Groves<br /><br />You will lose your baby teeth.<br />At times, you'll lose your faith in me.<br />You will lose a lot of things,<br />But you cannot lose my love.<br /><br />You may lose your appetite,<br />Your guiding sense of wrong and right.<br />You may lose your will to fight,<br />But you cannot lose my love.<br /><br />You will lose your confidence.<br />In times of trial, your common sense.<br />You may lose your innocence,<br />But you cannot lose my love.<br /><br />Many things can be misplaced;<br />Your very memories be erased.<br />No matter what the time or space,<br />You cannot lose my love.<br />You cannot lose,<br />You cannot lose,<br />You cannot lose my love. </span></em></strong></p><p><strong><em><span style="color:#3333ff;"></span></em></strong> </p><p><em><span style="color:#3333ff;"><span style="color:#990000;">so, nothing has changed ... no choice was made easier ... no new solution that was more palatable ... no sudden understanding of concepts that were wrapping me up in fear ... nothing changed except my focus.</span> </span></em></p><p><strong><em><span style="color:#3333ff;"> </p><p><br /></p></span></em></strong>Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-69542733463543392742010-09-26T23:27:00.001-05:002010-09-26T23:33:04.018-05:00The Unbreakable has ShatteredThis is unedited <br /><br />A Diner opens it’s doors<br /> and stays open day and night.<br />They feed food to all, <br />and coffee where conversation was bright. <br />The customer’s are loyal.<br /> Morning, noon, night and even when the world is alseep. <br />The food is decent, <br />Conversation is better, laughter and even times to weep. <br />A small family forms, <br />We watch the others, to laugh, to cry, even to poke fun. <br />The door that lets them in, <br />Strong ‘unbreakable’ glass <br />(as all resteraunt doors should be!) <br />This door is the key to the fellowship,<br />It lets people in and keeps out the weather, <br />It allows the last wave<br />Till we can once again be together. <br />The winter wind freezes it<br />The summer heat bakes it<br />The spring and fall winds blow it<br />And it stands strong.<br />A drunk, or 2 or 10 or more <br />Tumble into it. A toddler bangs it’s cup on it. <br />A strong door, the entry to the place where <br />We all share our lives … and loves .. and disapppointment.<br />One day, a young 6 year old boy<br />His 8 year old brother tuants. <br />And the 6 year old boy goes to the parking lot<br />Picks up a pebble, the size of a pencil eraser<br />Or smaller<br />And he, in his anger … chuncks with all his might<br />This tiny pebble at his brother’s head<br />And the door shatters<br />Glass<br />Every where<br />Tiny shards<br />What once protected from the elements<br />What once allowed hello’s and good byes<br />Was now a pile of junk on the floor ..<br />The unbreakable … <br />it broke. <br />No. It shattered. <br />My heart felt that way … <br />Letting people in and out. <br />Sometimes frozen<br />Sometimes baking in the heat of <br />Pain that comes only from hell<br />Bumped into<br />Pushed into<br />Abused at times<br />But functional … and secure and unbreakable<br />But someone threw a pebble <br />With just the right force<br />With just the right ambient temperature<br />With just the right spot on the vunerability of my soul<br />And now I’m <br />Broken<br />Shattered<br />In pieces a shocking pile of broken unbreakables <br />And unable to fix myself.Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-27585127638117857782010-09-10T11:02:00.004-05:002010-09-10T11:37:26.537-05:00World Suicide Prevention DaySo today is World Suicide Prevention Day.<br /><br />I've already seen a comment on twitter that it is 'just another day' the implication being that it's akin to "draw a flower day" (a silly day made up for purposes of this post)<br /><br />The reality is ... for people like me .. we wish that this day had existed when suicide hit our family. We wish that more people understood the implications of suicide. We wish that things were different than they are.<br /><br />I've blogged about my step dad on many occassions. If you've read this blog for any amount of time, you know that my step dad was my "Daddy". You know that the bond between him and I was stronger than any blood tie. You know that my world revolved around him.<br /><br />He was 1 of 2 people in my life who I *knew* gave me unconditional love. (the other being my step mother)<br /><br />When my world collided with suicide, I learned my world would never be the same.<br /><br />One of my memories from childhood, well, several of my memories from childhood but I'll focus on this one, is of me coming home from school after a day of being bullied.<br /><br />Dad was in the garden, so I changed clothes and went out to help him, something I did more often than not. I walked out to the garden and went to what was 'my' radishes. I bent down and started to pull the weeds out.<br /><br />As I progressed, I realized tears were falling down my face. I wiped them away ... and my face became not only tear stained, but mud stained as well.<br />Daddy called me to the end of the radish row and then gave me a hug. He just stood there and let me cry. When I stopped crying, he pulled back a bit and sat down. I sat in his lap ...out there in the garden with all those plants that he and I tended to so carefully. The weed piles here and there ...ugly reminders that no matter how beautiful something is, there is something waiting to crowd it out if it's not carefully tended to.<br /><br />He looked me straight in the eye and without blinking said "Darling, what is wrong?" Darling .. a word he used sparingly ... it meant "I'm focused on you, and only you. You, for this moment in time are the center of my world" (I was an adult before I realized that)<br /><br />I told him about that days bullying episode. I still remember it, but it's not germaine to this story.<br /><br />As I told him, the saddness on his face became apparent. When I finished, he hugged me again. He told me how sorry he was, and that he knew that his love didn't change the insults hurled at me by children who were my peers. But that his love was forever ...and their insults would fade ..some day. He was right. I still feel his love, but the insults ... they stay in the back of my mind, in a box ... where they belong. I no longer feel the impact of those insults.<br /><br /><br />When I was 14, his depression crowded out the love that we, as a family, had for him. His great tenderness ...the thing that made him such a wonderful father ... is the same thing that allowed him to feel the depression to such great depths. In his depression, he felt that we would be better off without him. He was oh so wrong. To this day, there are things that I wish I could tell him. Things I NEED him to do for me. Things I wish I could share with him. Not a day in my life has gone by that I haven't wished for a hug from him.<br /><br />If you're considering suicide ... please know, that no matter how desperate you're feeling, no matter how alone, no matter how much you think that those around you would be better off ... they won't be. There will be a hole that nothing can fill in your absence. The world would NOT be better off without you. The pain and chaos left behind can only be prevented by your continuing presence in this world. Reach out. Accept the love offered. Let those reaching to you reach you.<br /><br />No one exists in a vaccum. Yo<a href="http://pearlsanddreams.blogspot.com/2004/11/pearls-and-dreams_06.html#comments">u matter ... to someone ... to me. </a><br /><br />(the link is a poem I wrote to my Daddy on the 25th anniversary of his death)Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8988655.post-84835138408577705902010-09-02T09:17:00.003-05:002010-09-02T09:45:07.393-05:00What a Difference a Day MakesMy life has entered a new phase.<br />My parenting has entered a new phase.<br />My marriage has entered a new phase.<br /><br />My oldest son has left the nest. For those that have been reading my blog for years, you may be wondering how he got old enough to do such a thing? Apparently the same way I got to be the age I am .. one day at a time.<br /><br />I'm, to be honest, ready. Maybe the key is that he brought his best friend to live with us 8 months ago, and then 4 months ago, Benjamin's best friend came to live with us. Maybe the key to being ready for your child to leave is them bringing home extra's .. to LIVE.<br /><br /><strong>I was ready</strong> to have my bathroom back.<br /><strong>Ready</strong> to know how many I was cooking for. (who will be here? None of us, we've got ABC to do. Cook for 3, and they come home and say "where's dinner?" Or : who will be here? All of us, we're all off. Cook for 6 and 5 minutes before dinner was done ... they go trampsing out the door "oh, we decided to go get Buffalo Wings" ARGH!! that, was truly mind boggling, and aggrivating ..not to mention felt quite disrespectful at times)<br /><strong>I was ready</strong> to have my driveway back ...yes, my driveway. It is a 3 car driveway .. but all in length .. it's 1 car wide, 3 cars long. So if it rained, someone would have to move car so that I could get out, or I'd have to move car so they could get out.<br /><strong>Ready </strong>to know who was in my house at any given time.<br /><strong>I was ready</strong> to not have to worry about the washing machine and who had stuff in there when I needed it.<br /><strong>Ready</strong> to have some sense of privacy back.<br />Most importantly<br /><strong>I was ready</strong> for my youngest son to not have the intellectual competition around all the time. My sons friends are every bit as smart as Samuel ... my husband and I are not exactly lacking in the area of intelligence and that, is a lot, of intelligence in my son's face at all times. I was watching him feel like he had something to prove ... he has to face that at school, is it really fair to have to face it at home? He was becoming increasingly frustrated and his need to PROVE was increasing as the days went on. He is ready to not have to be anything but who he is, at least at home where it's always been safe to be so.<br /><br />I have the normal concerns "will he be ok?"<br />Will he call ? Will he forget that he has a family? Will he behave? Will he act in a way that is not in keeping with the way he was raised? Will he get evicted for one reason or another? Will he pay his bills? Will he wind up right back in our house?<br /><br />We've told him that <strong>we're proud</strong> of him (we are) and that we're excited for him ... but he needs to come back and call ..do not turn me into a "stalker mom" from a "soccer mom" who has to stalk her child to get a glimpse of what was once a huge part of her day ... and will always be a huge part of her heart.<br /><br /><strong>We're proud</strong> of the choices he's making. They are smart ...but more importantly, they are wise.<br /><br /><strong>We're proud</strong> of the friends he's chosen. We love them. The 2 that lived here, long before they lived here, had become known as son #3 and son # 4.<br /><br /><strong>We're proud</strong> of who he is as a person but we're <strong>ready</strong> (more me than Don) for them to LAUNCH!<br /><br />A week ago this morning, I didn't know they were moving out. Today, they are waking up in their own apartment.<br /><br />And we have gone from 4 to 5 to 6 ... and then there were 3. *smile*Dreaming againhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15717590226520457326noreply@blogger.com3