Verbify the Word: LimitlessLessons Accept All Meanings

Please let me introduce you to a genuine truthteller.

My good friend at LimitlessLessons is passionate about everything she does. In her life, with her family, in her career, in her writing … she is true. And while she is a wonderfully positive person, her writing and reflection is not all sunshine and rainbows and puppies. She does what I don’t do sometimes–she shares the ugly parts, the vulnerable parts, the absolute true and hard to admit parts. Which is why her writing speaks to us all. We find our souls are sitting there, nodding their collective heads in understanding while we read. It is just one of the reasons why I admire her so much. You are going to love her, too.

Please welcome LimitlessLessons to MommyVerbs and Verbify the Word Wednesday!

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I started LimitlessLessons about a year ago for a variety of reasons.  One of those reasons being I was searching for something, although I’m not sure what.  Maybe I was searching for the key to happiness, or searching for others who were like-minded, trying to better themselves, and searching for something as well.  Or possibly I was searching for an outlet to discuss experiences I was either excited or confused about.  I’m not really sure, but I was definitely searching for something that would make my life more peaceful and fulfilling.

When MommyVerbs was kind enough to invite me to be a guest blogger for her and explained I was to focus on a verb, the word “search” may have been an obvious choice.  But, if there is one thing I’ve learned this past year, it’s that the most concise and beautiful path to a content life is tostop searching and start accepting.

Just as the word “accept” seems like a pretty uncomplicated verb with a straightforward meaning, you would think accepting life as it’s presented to you would be straightforward as well.  Well, it’s not…at least not for me.  Did you know that according to the Encarta Dictionary: English (North America) there are actually twelve definitions for this simple word?  I’ve picked my top 6 definitions to assist me in taking a look at what I’ve learned (and continue to learn) over the past year as I’ve trudged along on my happiness quest.

1.      Take something offered

I’m learning the importance of taking something offered.  More often than not, that “something” is a helping hand, words of wisdom, or simply just a hug.  Accepting others’ help is very difficult for some people (me!) as it can be misconstrued as weakness.  The truth is, it takes great strength to acknowledge your shortcomings and admit you are in over your head.

 2.       Say yes to invitation

I am saying yes to more invitations…literally and figuratively.  I am not very comfortable around people I don’t know well, so making new friends has always been challenging for me.  I have been stepping outside my comfort zone and saying yes to new people and new opportunities as well as reconnecting with old friends I have lost touch with.  Just in the past year I have started yoga, participated in a bowling league, became an advisor for my sorority on campus, painted my first painting, started tennis lessons, and traveled out of the country for the first time with my husband.  Agreeing to write for MommyVerbs falls in this category as well.  There was definitely a time I would have politely declined because I would have been fearful my writing would not have lived up to the expectations.

 3.       Come to terms with something

This is a biggie.  There are so many things I’ve had to come to terms with.  Friends can become strangers as quickly as strangers can become friends.  I can’t stop my kids from growing up or our parents from getting older.  People can be incredibly mean-spirited, but they can also be incredibly kind.  Life goes on even when you don’t want it to.  Endings are always painful.  The quality of your friendships is much more important than the quantity.   People will always judge you, and although you may not live in your past anymore, there will be some who try to visit you there often.  You never know someone’s true character until they are angry at you.

 4.       Endure situation

This definition says to tolerate something without protesting or attempting to change it.  I have spent my life trying to change people and situations or trying to persuade people into seeing things my way.  Once I realized that wasn’t working, I spent years trying to change myself.  Although change can be good, I have focused lately on accepting myself each day wherever I am.  I’m always striving to be a better version of me, but I am finally learning to accept the current model with all its bugs and flaws.

 5.       Believe something

I believe that attitude is everything.  It governs the way you perceive the world and the way the world perceives you and a good attitude helps you achieve your greatest potential.  Although I believe this with all my heart, I have a ways to go with my own attitude some days.

 6.       Take blame for something

I am not perfect and have never claimed to be.  I have made plenty of mistakes and will continue to do so.  I have hurt people and I have handled situations in counter-productive ways.  My parenting is a work in progress and I’m not always the best mom, wife, daughter, sister, employee and friend, but my heart is always in the right place.  No one can be harder on me than I am on myself.  I’ve also realized that sometimes all someone wants to hear is a simple “I’m sorry”.

Unfortunately we can’t be selective about what we accept…we must accept it all.  This is the hard part.  Stewart O’Nan says,

“You couldn’t relive your life, skipping the awful parts, without losing what made it worthwhile.  You had to accept it as a whole–like the world, or the person you loved.”   

As I work tirelessly to find acceptance in the experiences, challenges, and people God lies at my feet, I find my happiness grows in direct proportion.

Laozi, a philosopher and poet of ancient China, encourages us in our acceptance by saying,

“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.”

So, in the words of my inspiring MommyVerbs friend and colleague…Let’s all, Go. Do that!

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See. I told you so. Don’t you just love her!? Go check her out at www.limitlesslessons.com and like her page on facebook for more daily inspiration.

I’m not much of a New Year’s resolution girl…I’m more of a birthday resolution girl.  Maybe it’s because I’m a February baby so it’s not too far from the new year and it also gives all the New Year’s resolution people time to either get in a routine or bail.  This birthday was no different.  At 45, I knew I had to get serious.  I set my intentions.  This year was going to be all about taking care of me…body, mind, and soul…ALL of me.

My first step was to do what we all do…I joined a gym.  Not just any gym, but the gym I’ve been a member of probably at least 20 prior times.  This time I decided to up the ante.  Instead of joining for one month to decide if it was going to be a waste of money, I joined for six months AND I signed the whole family up.  Maybe that would help me stay motivated.  And off I went.  My first class was a weight lifting class.  I purposely went VERY light on the weight, knowing if I didn’t, I would feel like a truck ran over me the next morning since it had been over a year since I had lifted weights.  I’ve done this class many times so I knew what to expect, but I didn’t expect how much my body would fight it.  It was painful as I did it but I made it through the class.

The next morning I did not feel like a truck ran over me, I felt like TWO trucks ran over me and then parked!  I seriously couldn’t move.  If you’ve ever been really sore after working out you know what I’m talking about it.  There would be no squatting to pee, I could only use the handicap bathroom at work and that was only if my shaking arms didn’t give out trying to hold me up on the handicap rails.  I went the long way everywhere to avoid all stairs and after trying to lift my arm to staple something on a bulletin board for about 5 minutes, I just gave up.  I knew it was bad when I was waiting in line behind a 90 year old man and he dropped a dime.  We both looked at each other and I thought, “Oh crap.”  We both went for the dime (at the same pace I might add) and he beat me to it.  I couldn’t get back up so he was kind enough to help me!  The only place I could find any relief was in a hot bathtub.  I was miserable.

That evening I went to sit down on the couch with my husband.  After watching me for a quite some time try to sit without bending at all, he said to me, “You know you have to go back.”  I ignored him.  “You have to work through the pain.  Once you work through the pain it won’t hurt any more or it will at least be bearable.”  He was right (as usual)…and not just about the gym.

We tend to want to avoid painful situations and uncomfortable feelings.  If we ignore it long enough, it will go away.  But will it? 

We certainly don’t want to revisit experiences that have hurt us, but until we do, we are never free of them and nothing changes.  We can push them way down and pretend they don’t exist, but they will continue to eat away at us in all kinds of unhealthy ways. 

Everyone I know is dealing with some kind of pain.  There are times we never acknowledge our pain because we minimize it.  Yes, we are hurting, but we know so many people who have it “worse than us” so we don’t feel entitled to feel our pain.  And then we have other judging our pain, comparing their pain to ours, thereby making our pain seem trivial.  I once read somewhere that the pain of the death of a loved one, the pain of the end of a relationship, and the pain of a child losing a teddy bear are no different. Pain is pain and no one should put limits on it or qualify it.

And then there are times it’s, well, just too painful.  We just don’t feel like we can face it.  So we look for answers in all the wrong places and the pain just multiplies.  It’s not until we truly work through our pain in a healthy and productive way that we can be free of it.  Being free does not mean we forget or we never feel sad, it just means we don’t let the pain control us anymore…it becomes bearable.

For those wondering, I did go back to the gym and my soreness is now the “good kind” of pain.  I’ve been very consistent with this class because I know if I don’t continue to go, I’ll be right back where I started…in pain.  And who wants to be there?!?

Today’s blog post is about “female stuff”.  I thought about warning men they may want to skip this one, but after doing my research I think this topic is important for them too…maybe even more so.  Women have to go through a lot of hard stuff.  Fortunately though, I have always been blessed with amazing friends who I have been able to wade through the gory details of womanhood with. 

I remember the day I got my period.  I was in 8th grade and feeling completely left out because I was one of the last of my friends to get it.  My best friend and I had been sent out in the hall by our PE teacher for being a little too social and right there in the hall it happened.  I knew exactly what to do because my friends and I had talked incessantly about every detail regarding this momentous day in our life.  I was ready.

Then came trying to get pregnant, being pregnant, and labor and delivery.  Again, it’s all we talked about.  I could always find someone experiencing what I was going through or a story of what to prepare for and this camaraderie got me through.  I was ready.

Next came female problems of another sort.  Ablations, hysterectomies, D&Cs, birth control…anything to get that mess down there fixed up and healthy.  Obviously not everyone could relate, but the ones that could shared their experiences and put me at ease.  I knew what to expect.  Again, I was ready.

Now the start of a new phase and for the first time, I’m not ready.  Finally a topic my friends aren’t talking about and I’m not sure why…perimenopause and menopause.  Of course we talk about the hot flashes, the insomnia, and the weight gain.  Some of us even talk about the mood swings.  And if we are lucky enough, we have someone to talk to about the depression, loss of libido, and affect on our marriage and family.  But mostly there is silence.  I’m wondering if it’s because everyone feels as lost as I do.  There was no question I had my period or I was pregnant or that I needed a hysterectomy but now I’m questioning this…am I in perimenopause or am I just crazy?

First, a brief health lesson.  I started researching this topic for my own sanity and came upon my life line.  A blog called The Perimenopause Blog (yes, people are actually blogging about this!)  In her post titled Symptoms of Perimenopause  Symptoms of Menopause (http://www.theperimenopauseblog.com/symptoms-of-perimenopause-symptoms-of-menopause/) Magnolia Miller explains it this way.

Perimenopause is a transitional period a woman goes through where her estrogen and progesterone levels are fluctuating until she becomes fully menopausal.  During perimenopause, her ovaries will produce less and less progesterone and estrogen until she no longer has a menstrual cycle.  A woman is said to be menopausal once she has gone twelve consecutive months without a menstrual cycle. Once a woman reaches actual menopause (the average is four years but it can take up to ten!!), her ovaries are no longer producing enough progesterone and estrogen to support monthly menstrual cycles. While most women find menopause to be a wonderful, peaceful time of life, the low estrogen levels common in menopause can put many women at a higher risk for a number of health issues such as osteoporosis, bone and joint degeneration, and chronic depression.

But there’s a lot more going on.  The author of the blog says she started blogging about this because the anxiety and emotional turmoil she was experiencing made her truly believe she might be going crazy.  She goes on to say, “It’s difficult to explain to others who have not been through it, what perimenopause feels like.  It’s especially difficult to explain to our husbands who can’t begin to understand or even remotely connect to the female experience. Not only is this frustrating but it can add to the feelings of isolation and vulnerability.”

It seems from my research, the medical field agrees there are about 35 symptoms you might experience during perimenopause.  Obviously you will not experience all of these things (thank goodness!) and some of you many never experience any of them.  Personally, I was able to identify at least 15 symptoms on this list I am experiencing or have experienced at some point.  No wonder I feel crazy!

35 Symptoms of Perimenopause

• Hot flashes, flushes, night sweats and/or cold flashes, clammy feeling
• Irregular heart beat
• Irritability
• Mood swings, sudden tears
• Trouble sleeping through the night (with or without night sweats)
• Irregular periods; shorter, lighter periods; heavier periods, flooding; phantom periods, shorter cycles, longer cycles
• Loss of libido
• Dry vagina
• Crashing fatigue
• Anxiety, feeling ill at ease
• Feelings of dread, apprehension, doom
• Difficulty concentrating, disorientation, mental confusion
• Disturbing memory lapses
• Incontinence, especially upon sneezing, laughing; urge incontinence
• Itchy, crawly skin
• Aching, sore joints, muscles and tendons
• Increased tension in muscles
• Breast tenderness
• Headache change: increase or decrease
• Gastrointestinal distress, indigestion, flatulence, gas pain, nausea
• Sudden bouts of bloat
• Depression
• Exacerbation of existing conditions
• Increase in allergies
• Weight gain
• Hair loss or thinning, head, pubic, or whole body; increase in facial hair
• Dizziness, vertigo, light-headedness, episodes of loss of balance
• Changes in body odor
• Electric shock sensation under the skin and in the head
• Tingling in the extremities
• Gum problems, increased bleeding
• Burning tongue, burning roof of mouth, bad taste in mouth, change in breath odor
• Osteoporosis (after several years)
• Changes in fingernails: softer, crack or break easier
• Tinnitus: ringing in ears, bells, ‘whooshing,’ buzzing etc.

But what I am finding so fascinating in my research is the profound psychological and emotional changes that go hand in hand with the physical changes during this time.  As I googled menopause, article after article came up about the effects of menopause on a marriage.  Did you know that over 60 percent of divorces are initiated by women in their 40s, 50s or 60s — the menopause years — according to a recent survey conducted by AARP Magazine.  Other articles put that number as high as 70%.

Why you ask?  Obviously it could be many, many reasons unrelated to menopause, but I was interested in learning more about the correlation between menopause and marriage.  What I found out is summed up best by Lori Phillips, BellaOnline Marriage Editor, in an article called Menopause and Marriage (http://www.bellaonline.com/articles/art1379.asp).  She explains it this way.

Studies show that early in life when women’s estrogen levels are high, they feel a sense of maternal nurturing. To ensure the survival of the family, they become the peace-makers and caretakers. As menopause ensues, estrogen levels drop while testosterone levels rise. A woman suddenly feels less inclined to be the pleaser. The increase of testosterone makes her more prone to thinking about her own needs. A lot of women suddenly think, “I’ve put everyone first in my life. There are things about him and our marriage that I don’t want to put up with anymore.”  It leads many women to re-think their lives and their newfound sense of self compels them to break away from old priorities—child-rearing and husband-caretaking--and embark on new paths that allow them to pursue personal goals.

I am in no way saying that menopause causes divorce.  A struggling marriage was probably struggling way before menopause and a strong marriage will survive it just fine.  But it does shed some light as to why some women find themselves disconnected at this time in their life.  I am not divorced or planning to get divorced but I have certainly felt this disconnect myself.

It also helps to know I’m not alone in everything I’ve been feeling lately…that I’m really not crazy.  In fact, I’m more normal than I ever knew.  I’ve been to several doctors looking for answers to what’s wrong with me and I’m not alone there either.  I read comment after comment of women describing going from doctor to doctor looking for answers.  Some quit their jobs because the symptoms were so severe, while others thought they were dying.  And in the end, they were all found to be “healthy” and “just perimenopausal”.  All said the emotional changes are far worse than the physical changes as there seems to be more help and acknowledgement of the physical stuff, but they felt very alone in this new emotional turmoil they feel trapped in. 

I can promise you it’s not “just perimenopausal” when you are going through it but there is help!  Treatment varies from lifestyle changes to hormone replacement therapy.  Go see your doctor!  Take this post if you need to!  Highlight your symptoms!  Advocate for yourself!  Don’t settle for …”you are fine.”  And let’s start talking about this!  Nothing is as scary when you realize you’re not alone.

I was reading something the other day and the article ended with this question…

Are you living or simply existing?

Of course I’m living I thought.   To not be living would mean I don’t love my life and of course I love my life.  End of story.  But, as many things do, it left me thinking.  How do we know if we are merely existing?

Dr. Phil says existing is instinctual; it is involuntary, reactive self-preservation, with the primary goal of just getting from one day to the next without regard to quality. Living, on the other hand, is the exercise of certain learned skills, attitudes, and abilities that you have acquired and honed to a sharp and focused edge.  Living is waking up excited each day and looking forward to the known and unknown the day may bring.

A large component of simply existing is fear.  Fear of making a change, fear of the unknown, fear the grass is not greener.  Because of this fear, we do the same boring routine every day, we stay in dead-end jobs we don’t enjoy, we stay in toxic relationships that are no good for us, and we put off our dreams.  To change feels too hard and too scary.  We settle and make excuses to not live the life we truly want to lead.

Kimanzi Constable published a book called Are You Living or Existing? 9 Steps to Change Your Life.  He explains the difference between living and existing this way…

“The difference is realization, attitude and action. You start by realizing that time is one resource we’ll never get back, so we can’t afford to waste it doing things that won’t better our life. Then have the right attitude towards everything you do, viewing opportunities as a blessing and not another task on your to do list. Action means not wasting your life away watching the latest prime time shows. It means getting out and creating amazing experiences. At the end of your life you won’t remember all of the stuff you got or shows you watched. You’ll remember incredible experiences and times you impacted the lives of others.”

So how would you even know if you’re someone who exists or lives? Steve Jobs did something that could provide some guidance. Apparently he used to wake up each morning, look at himself in the mirror and ask himself the same question, “If I was to die today, would I do what I am about to do?” If his answer was no too many days in a row, he would make a change.  I think this is a good starting point for figuring out if you’re just settling for mediocrity. If you’re not getting excited or happy most days with what you’re going to do, you may need to take action and change something. This goes for every area of your life.

After being brutally honest with myself, I had to admit, although I’ve done my share of living, I’ve also done my share of existing.  I decided that needed to change.  But where to start?  It felt right to start from Constable’s explanation of living…realization, attitude, and action.

I decided the first step was to take control of my life…to be fully responsible and accountable for my own happiness.  It is not the job of my co-workers, husband, children or friends to make my life meaningful, it is mine.  I decided to stop being a spectator to my life and instead, fully participate in each day.  At 45 my life is probably more than half way over and any time spent existing is just not acceptable anymore.  Time is precious and I don’t want to waste another minute.

Secondly, my attitude has to change.  I must begin to count my blessings and not my problems.  I must begin to see obstacles as opportunities.  Most importantly for me, I must stop my perfectionist ways.  I have to learn to be ok with failure and not be afraid to try new things.  I also have to accept the fact that living life to its fullest is not a destination, it’s a journey.  A journey I will be on for the rest of my life.  This step will be a work in progress for me and probably the hardest step of all.  The idea of change brings me much anxiety!

Finally, I must act.  I’m a great planner and a not-so-good follow througher.  I decided to really think about what I feel passionate about in life, what I enjoy doing, and what makes me feel good about myself?  I’m embarrassed to admit how difficult it was to identify things I feel passionate about or enjoy doing.  I’ve never been a big “hobby” person and my life has revolved so much around my kids the past 17 years, I realize I’ve sort of  lost myself along the way.  I am realistic enough to know I’m not ready for huge changes immediately so I’ve outlined some baby steps for myself in all areas of my life to push myself in the right direction. I had to take a deep breath and dig deep, but I’m excited about some of the possibilities I’m investigating.  Remember, even small steps can lead to big possibilities!

How about you?  Do you need to take this journey with me?  Do you find yourself simply existing more days than you are really living?  Or are you someone who lives life to the fullest and wakes up excited for what each day holds?  Either way, I’d love to hear your story!

I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook these days.  I love to catch up with friends and family, be inspired, share a funny story, or read about others’ accomplishments.  What I hate is watching it become a place for every judgmental person to sling their mud behind the safety of a computer screen.  Have we really lost our ability to be sensitive to others’ feelings, especially when we disagree?  Have we totally lost the capacity to be compassionate?  Are we completely unskilled and inexperienced in how to see two sides to a story and sympathize (and even better yet, empathize) with tragic things that are going on around us?  Have we lost sight of the fact that not everything we read on the internet is even true and many facts are left out of stories to make it more sensationalized?  Are we really this mean?

I know, I know…you are thinking if I don’t like what I see on Facebook then I should quit reading it!  You are right and I’m definitely considering it.  But deleting an app off my phone and isolating myself from the judgment and righteousness that has now become a huge part of social media does not make it disappear.  Nor does it make it ok.

I will continue to keep my opinions and feelings about certain topics flooding my newsfeed to myself, because my opinion really doesn’t matter.  The point of this post is not to “have my say” but to remind us all that the words we type behind the protection of our electronic devices are in some cases more damaging than even the words we speak.  At least when we “talk” to others, we can gauge body language.  We can immediately hear a different perspective.  We can see the emotion that results in our words.  We are accountable. 

As you type hurtful comments about someone (maybe even rightfully deserved), remember that person has a family.  A mother, a grandfather, a sister, a son, a daughter.  In most of these cases, these families are paying a high enough price.  We cannot even begin to imagine the pain they are enduring and reading comments from you based on a story on the internet that may or may not even be completely true has got to be heartbreaking.  Every time I read a tragic story, no matter how outraged or appalled I am, I immediately think it could be me one day.  It could be one of my close friends or family members, that due to one bad choice or a lifetime of mental illness, find themselves in the headlines and therefore in the spotlight for every person to feel entitled to tear them down.  I believe those who have committed terrible crimes or made stupid decisions must have consequences and pay for their actions, but I also believe that it’s not up to me to make a horrible situation worse by making unknowledgeable, unkind and unhelpful comments in a public forum.  Sadly, I’ve done it and have regretted it later after I understood more clearly the situation or realized the hurt I caused someone I care about.

I am in no way saying we should keep our opinions to ourselves.  I have benefited from many posts I firmly disagreed with as I began to read, but in the end came away with a different perspective or a new appreciation for a side to the issue I was unable to formulate myself.  I admire those who are passionate about what they believe in and are not afraid to make a stand.  All of these things can be done in a respectful way though and that’s when the greatest impact is made.

Life is hard enough without the eyes of judgment staring us down.  Can we seriously look at ourselves in the mirror and see such perfection in our reflection that we can justify judging another human being?  I know I can’t.

Happy 2014!!  I’ve taken some time off from writing to focus on my friends and family and honestly, just to relax and re-energize.  I spent the first week of my Christmas vacation entertaining A LOT and the second week recuperating from entertaining.  I did very little except watch my kids play sports.  In fact, I did so little and felt so tired that I went and had a blood test for mono.  Fortunately, no mono, just a touch of the flu and plenty of my body trying to tell me to settle down a bit.  So that’s what I did!  Lazy comes pretty naturally to me when given the opportunity!

During my entertaining week, three generations of women in my family went to have manicures and pedicures.  It was wonderful.  We randomly happened to have the place to ourselves so we were able to really enjoy ourselves.  I had talked my mother into a different kind of manicure than she normally gets and she was very excited with the results.  I was sitting beside her and said “Let me see!”  She enthusiastically showed off her manicure than immediately followed up with shame over the look of her hands.  “Look how old they are, aren’t they ugly?” she stated.  I said, “No mom, they are not ugly…they are beautiful.”  She laughed and we moved on, but her comment stayed with me.  I have compared my own hands to the beautiful unblemished hands of my own daughter and felt the exact same way…ashamed.

When did we become a society so obsessed with looking youthful that we are ashamed of aging?

I was having trouble sleeping one night and so I began to watch TV around 2:00 a.m.  Television that time of night is filled with many infomercials.  I found myself too awake to sleep, but too sleepy to even care what was playing so I just watched and flipped channels. I spent hours watching about how to make a woman’s aging skin look young again, how to fix a woman’s sagging chin, how to get rid of a woman’s ugly stretch marks, and the glorification of looking 20 when you are 40 or 50.  I have to admit, it was quite depressing.  Millions of dollars spent by women trying their hardest not to age…me included.  When did aging become a dirty word?  When did it become unattractive to be 50 years old and actually LOOK 50 years old?  When did we lose respect for the experience and wisdom that comes along with the gift of aging?

I’m in no way saying we shouldn’t take care of ourselves.  We should be eating a healthy diet, exercising our bodies and minds, protecting ourselves from the harmful effects of the sun, and trying our best to cut back on all those bad habits we started in our 20’s.  My point is we have become a culture that has limited the definition of beauty to one word…youth.  I find this extremely disheartening and sad.  And the truth is,  I wouldn’t go back to 20 even if I could.  My body might not be what it once was and I may not be seen as beautiful to some as I was 10 or 20 years ago, but my beauty goes so much deeper than it did back then.  At 44 I don’t want to just look beautiful anymore…I want to be a beautiful person.  There’s a big difference, one I might not have understood in my 20’s and I hope to understand even more in my 70’s. 

So about your hands Mom…I cannot think of anything more beautiful than your hands.  Those hands loved my father for over 40 years and took amazing care of him throughout his battle with cancer.  They changed the diapers of four children and put us to bed each night.  They fed our family, sewed clothes, and knitted scarves.  They have decorated over 50 Christmas trees and wrapped thousands of gifts.  They were our safety net in learning how to walk and they rubbed our backs when we were sick.  They have wiped countless tears and clapped over and over for our accomplishments.  They brushed our hair and baked us cookies.  They have held your head as you prayed for us and smacked our bottoms when we deserved it.  They have written love letters and obituaries.  They have held and rocked eight grandbabies.  Every spot and wrinkle on your hand is a sign of living and loving. 

There is nothing more beautiful than that.

Seventeen years ago we had a snow storm.  I know this because I drove to the hospital in it to give birth to my first-born.  My husband had been out with his company pushing snow and came home around midnight.  I was eight days overdue and just a tad big and uncomfortable (and if you knew me then, you understand why this is sarcastically funny!)  Around 2:00 a.m. I felt a pop.  I can’t describe it, but I knew my water had broken.  I woke up my sleepy husband and as we left the house I remember standing at the front door staring back into the house thinking…this is it…this is where my life becomes “before kids” and “after kids”.  Nothing will be the same.  And it wasn’t.  Thank God. 

After 19 hours of labor, three hours of pushing, and a final attempt with the forceps, all 7 lbs 4 oz, 22 inches of Brandon Thomas Walters entered this world and more importantly, entered my life.

My sweet son.  I feel sorry for him sometimes because he has been somewhat of an experiment for me.  A combination of instinct and trial and error.  A multitude of mistakes by me as I navigate this thing called parenthood.  Sometimes I’m at the wheel in full control and other times I’m flying down a hill with no brakes and realize I don’t even have a steering wheel to guide me.  He stoically takes the brunt of my inexperience knowing he is only making things easier for his little sister as I learn from the mistakes I make with him.

First-born children are often described as being

• Reliable
• Conscientious
• Structured
• Cautious
• Perfectionists
• Highly motivated to achieve success
• Enjoy making others happy
• Leaders

These traits describe Brandon well.  Although he may be forgetful and unorganized at times, when it comes to the things that really matter…his responsibilities within our family, his love for his little sister, his commitment to his teammates, he is reliable and conscientious.  He has always been cautious, a deep thinker, seldom acting on impulse.  And he thrives on structure.  He has always liked to know “the plan”.  He likes things a certain way and doesn’t like to deviate from that.  He’s a homebody, feeling most himself in the comfort of our home.  Over the past couple of years, I’ve watched him grow into a leader on and off the basketball court and anyone who knows him, knows the joy he brings when he is part of your life.  He is kind, compassionate, sensitive, and loyal and he continues to make my heart melt just as he did as a baby and little boy.

When Brandon was about five, he was obsessed with trophies.  He wanted as many trophies as he could get his hands on.  He particularly fell in love with a big golf trophy my dad had won in a tournament and as most grandfathers would do, my dad gave it to him.  He displayed it proudly in his room and it was later joined by a t-ball trophy he received.  He loved his trophies.  Within the next year my dad died.  The grownups in the family decided to each choose a special memento to include in the casket with my dad when we buried him.  Each of us came up with something that represented a special moment between each of us and my dad.  On the day we were going to the family viewing and placing our articles in the casket, Brandon came into my bedroom with his t-ball trophy and asked if he could put it in Gdad’s casket.  He wanted to make him happy the way he had made him happy.

And that’s my Brandon…all summed up in one short paragraph.  So, happy birthday Brandon!  I hope you know how special you are EVERY day, but especially on this significant and meaningful day in all of our lives.  We love you and are very proud of you!

I always think THIS is the year.

The year I get all my Christmas shopping done by December 1.

The year I can then spend my December wrapping gifts that are Pinterest worthy.

The year I spend time in the kitchen baking wonderful treats with my daughter with my apron on and Christmas music playing in the background.

The year my Christmas cards are ordered in plenty of time for me to sit at my CLEAN dining room table, sipping on hot chocolate while watching the snow fall with my excel spreadsheet of addresses.

The year the whole family can’t wait to help with the decorating.

The year I’m able to resist all the wonderful food brought to work.

The year my house stays clean the whole month of December and friends come in and out, drinking wine and eating the appetizers that are always out welcoming my
visitors.

The year my husband puts up the outside lights in a timely manner while he sips on a bourbon, enjoying the fact that he can participate in this wonderful holiday and when he is done, all the lights work.

The year I finally listen to my kids and I don’t worry if each kid gets the same number of gifts and if I’ve spent the same amount on each because I don’t want anyone to think I have a “favorite”.

The year the whole family watches all the holiday classics with me.

Ok, ok…I know.  I’m living in a fantasy world.  Do you want to hear my reality?

I will still be shopping December 24 although I will swear I have everything I need way before that.

I will begin with creative wrapping and beautiful bows and get tremendously sick of wrapping and the majority of my gifts will look like my dog got a hold of them.

I won’t even walk in the kitchen except to grab some oreos from the cabinet.

I might take a Christmas card picture but no one will be able to agree on a picture and so I will just forget the whole thing.  If I do happen to get a Christmas card together, it will be so late I will be frantically tearing off return labels of Christmas cards I receive and sending them only to them because I don’t have time to look up anyone’s address. 
(And my dining room table is NEVER clean!)

No one wants to help with the decorating, including me sometimes.

I will not resist any of the yummy food brought to work.  In fact I will hide some of it to eat later.

My house will only be clean on the day the cleaners come and if anyone shows up at my door I will probably hide because I haven’t had a shower or my house is too much of a mess.

It will take my husband DAYS to put up the lights with at least 5 trips to Lowes for lights that work and then we will forget to turn them on for the entire month of
December.

I will meticulously count gifts to make sure everything is even, even if it means going out and buying something I know they don’t want just to have something wrapped.

If I turn on Frosty, everyone will leave the room and go watch TV in their bedrooms.

But this is THE year for something.  It’s the year I give up unrealistic expectations, embrace my imperfections, and plan to enjoy the good, bad, and ugly of the holiday season, because that’s what makes it memorable.  The traditions we’ve created as a family are priceless.  My kids will reluctantly help decorate but I know deep inside they kind of enjoy it.  My husband will cuss his way through the lights but will be kind of proud when we all stand outside and ooh and ahh over how pretty they look.  I will act all grumpy over having to fight the crowds for the last minute gifts but will be thrilled when I find “the perfect” gift for someone.  We all will be excited when my Bella-wrapped gifts go under the tree.  We will entertain a lot and it will be exhausting, but a happy kind of exhausting.  And if I pout enough, the family will watch “It’s A Wonderful Life” with me on Christmas Eve and maybe even be kind of glad they did.  Whether some of my holiday fantasies come true or if I just live out my reality for another year, it doesn’t matter.  All that matters is I’m surrounded by people I love and people who love me.  THAT’S the magic of Christmas.  

What makes your holidays magical?

Imagine this...

Your husband has a disease.  It not only affects his life, but the lives of everyone in your family.  Your friends and family provide you with an abundance of support.  They fix dinner for you, they offer to take him to doctor appointments to give you a break, they have a fundraiser to help pay for medical expenses your insurance won’t cover, and they call to ask how he is…how you are.  You feel loved.  You don’t feel so alone.

Or imagine this...

Your daughter has been victim to a terrible trauma.  The side effects from this trauma have been life altering for her, as well as everyone in your family.  Your friends and family show up with food.  They take you out to talk and hear how things are going. 
They offer support to your daughter as well, understanding it takes a village.  They spread the word your family needs support and your community rises to the call. 
You feel relief.  You don’t feel so alone.

Most of us can imagine this because we have been on the giving or receiving end of a loved one suffering from cancer, or a heart attack, or a car accident.

Let’s take it a step further though.  Your local high school has “green night” at the basketball game. They are selling green t-shirts to support people struggling like your husband and daughter.  
 
They are having…MENTAL ILLNESS AWARENESS NIGHT.  

At half time they recognize your husband for living with bi-polar disorder and depression.  They recognize your daughter for overcoming her substance abuse and
finding the right medicine and treatment for PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) after returning from Iraq.  They recognize the care givers of those who are mentally ill and promise more research and better treatment with the money they raise.  Again, you feel your community’s support.  You don’t feel so alone.

Can you imagine the last scenario?  Probably not. We only talk about mental illness when it’s to place blame.  When are we going to start recognizing mental illness as the crippling disease it is? When are we going to start supporting our brothers and sisters suffering from depression the same way we support those suffering from cancer? 
When is raising money for the research and treatment of schizophrenia going to be as important as the research and treatment for heart disease?  When will feel comfortable discussing our substance abuse the way we discuss our diabetes?  Don’t tell me it’s because people die from physical illness but not from mental illness.   Read the paper.  Watch the news.  We are a country suffering from an epidemic of mental illness that is
going to ruin this country.   People are dying every day from the affects of mental illness and the funding just keeps decreasing as the need is increasing at lightning
speed.

How many more are going to be killed?  

Miriam Carey, who drove through a White House barrier and engaged Capital police in a
high speed chase with her one-year old in the car, was suffering from postpartum
depression and psychosis.  She is just one of a string of mentally ill people who have been killed or killed others in the recent past.  These include Aaron Alexis who reportedly believed he was being controlled by electromagnetic waves when he killed 12 people at Washington Navy Yard in Washington, D.C., Adam Lanza who killed 26
people at the Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut and James
Holmes who killed 12 people at the premier of a Batman movie in Aurora, Colorado. In my own hometown, Seung-Hui Cho, who killed 32 people and injured 17 more in the Virginia Tech massacre, was suffering from a severe anxiety disorder and major depressive disorder. And just this week in my home state, Virginia Senator Creigh Deeds was stabbed multiple times by his alleged mentally ill son who has been turned away from a psychiatric hospital the day before due to lack of beds.

There is a stigma that comes along with mental illness that prevents people from
getting help and like any other kind of illness, untreated mental illness only gets worse, not better.  According to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), an estimated one in four adults suffers from a diagnosable mental disorder in a given year. I think about all those Americans suffering while both society and the health care industry do very little to alleviate their suffering.  Health care companies provide incentives to lose weight or stop smoking, but most offer nothing when it comes to mental illness.

Victoria Brownworth summed it up best on a blog post written for The Huffington Post dated October 7, 2013. The article called Crazy Every Day: America's Mental Illness Epidemic which describes living with her mentally ill mother concludes this way…

“Nearly 60 million Americans suffer right now from some form of mental illness, be it psychosis like Carey or schizophrenia, depression, anxiety, bi-polar disorder, an eating disorder. Many of those people are compliantly taking medications and others are wandering lost in America, unmedicated, hearing voices, thinking paranoid delusional
thoughts and literally going out of their minds.

How many families have to be devastated by the impact of this disease before we make mental illness a priority in this country? One in four is sick. If it were influenza, it would be an epidemic. Let's start acting like mental illness is illness first, mental
second. It's a public health crisis in America. And until we address it, there will be more Miriam Careys, more Aaron Alexises, more mothers like mine and so much untreated suffering, we might all go crazy from the pain.”

I don't want to go crazy from the pain.  How about you?

Last night I was watching the CBS evening news and they did a segment called Six Word War.  First, let me tell you a bit about this memoir from their website www.sixwordwar.com. 

“Welcome to Six Word War. Instead of a book about Iraq or Afghanistan that tells one soldier’s perspective, Six Word War is the first ‘crowdsourced’ war memoir that will tell a story different than any other ever told about war. For the first time in history, one book will contain the collective experience of our military at war in their own words.

Sometimes veterans have funny stories to tell and sometimes they’re tragic. Not every story on its own could justify an entire book, but that’s what we think is incredible about this project. The thousands of stories that we’re gathering tell the real story of Iraq and Afghanistan - a story that couldn’t possibly be told by one person.

This project is being run by Shaun Wheelwright and Mike Nemeth, both US Army veterans. Mike and Shaun met as West Point classmates at the United States Military Academy. Shaun went on to deploy to Iraq from 2007-2009 with the 1-27 Infantry, 25th ID. Mike was injured prior to a deployment and left the Army as a 2nd Lieutenant. “

I was so deeply moved by this segment that I immediately went to their website. I was astonished at how much emotion, insight, loss, and even humor could be described in six short words.  Here are a few of my favorites…

Family Sacrifice Personal Sacrifice Rinse Repeat

I came home, but never left.

Divorce, despair, only God could repair.

Hearts and minds, I lost both.

It’s okay to not be okay

Responsibilities causing maturing beyond my years

Taliban Bullet, Army Hospital, Found Love

Nicotine. Caffeine. Dead friends. No sleep.

I am tired of the goodbyes.

Baby coming. Please come home alive!

The other battle starts at home.

Powerful stuff, huh.  They were inspired by a website called http://sixwordmemoirs.com.  A Six-Word Memoir® is the story of your life—some part of it or all of it—told in exactly six words.

This inspired me to think about how I would sum up my own life in six words.  It was a struggle, but today this is the six words that would represent me.

Flawed and fearful.  Blessed beyond belief.

I have so many flaws.  What’s even worse is I actually know how flawed I really am.  But holding hands with all my flaws is good intention and lessons learned.  Each day I try to do better.  Each day I try to take a baby step to a better me.  I don’t always succeed, but I can never be accused of not trying.

I am not a risk taker…never have been.  I used to feel bad about it but I’ve come to accept that is just part of who I am and there is nothing wrong with that.  When it becomes an issue though, is when fears stops me from stepping outside my comfort zone and reaching my goals.  Fear of failure, fear of change, fear of someone being mad at me, fear of losing someone, fear of being hurt.  Although I have no regrets in my life, I am ashamed of the missed opportunities and experiences never lived because fear has gotten in my way.

I really am blessed.  I am blessed beyond belief.  I am blessed with my health and the health of all my loved ones.  I am blessed with a job that reconfirms how blessed I am on a daily basis.  I’m blessed with the ability to love and to be loved.  I’m blessed with two children who are perfect for me, who I stare at constantly because I can’t believe they are really mine.  I am blessed with a diverse array of friends from all chapters of my life who have guided me, supported me, and loved me, even at my worst.

So, go check out the sixwordwar website.  Or check out the segment from CBS Evening News I’ve linked on my page.  Or even better yet, go buy the book.  My six words might change next week or next year.  They would have looked very different five years ago and even more different ten years ago.  But for today, this is my six word life. 

What’s yours?  How would you describe your life in six words?