Tomorrow will be my thyroidectomy, and I guess the idea of being sliced open has me a little sentimental. I guess anytime I am under the knife, I want to make sure my affairs are in order...
In order to understand my thoughts and anxieties of tonight, I kinda need to retrace the events of the past week.
Last Tuesday, I was sitting in a meeting, ready to finish my day. I remember walking into the meeting feeling rough. It seemed that everyone had already gotten sick, and I thought that maybe I had a touch of something. By the end of the meeting, I felt like DEATH. I couldn't turn my head, I had an intense headache, and I was burning up. I couldn't tell if the meeting room was too warm, or if a fever was brewing. I told a coworker what was going on, and she told me I needed to go see a doctor. I got in the car, and headed for the doctor instead of going to class that night.
When I got to the doctor, they took one look at me and thought I had meningitis. They sent me to the ER to be tested for it. Of course, I already knew the test for meningitis: lumbar puncture. And, unfortunately, I had already had that test before. So, I was terrified because I had been there and experienced the pain.
It worked on the SECOND full attempt. Yes, after digging around the first time, they had to go get someone else from the anesthesia department to complete the puncture. I remember breathing eerily slow, with tears streaming down my face. I knew what the needle looked like, and I knew where it was. I knew that one renegade breath could paralyze me. And with my history in a wheelchair, I didn't want to chance any issues with my legs. It was definitely not the best 20 minutes of my life. Add to that a headache that wouldn't quit (even after two shots of demerol, and add-on percocet), and I was a miserable mess.
I was also concerned that I had either given this to Travis, or got it from him. I had alerted him of this on the way over to the hospital.
They told me I would be staying in the hospital for at least 24 hours, and they were going to start the treatment for meningitis while waiting for the test results. They moved me up to the isolation room, and I settled in for the night. I remember being ready for sleep, but being in such an uncomfortable bed. I remember being thankful that I would be recovering from whatever this was, and that at least I had a supportive family, friends, and a pretty good life.
Nausea and a headache continued through the night, but as long as I ate crackers and drank sprite, I seemed fine. I didn't feel miserable, but I certainly didn't feel well. I just wanted to go home, so I could get back to spinning all of my plates in the air.
Well, on Wednesday, it seemed like I waited ALL day to see the doctor. In fact, I did. The doctor wandered into my room around 7pm and asked me if I wanted to go home. The best he could guess was that my body overreacted to a virus. I told him I would rather recuperate in my own bed, so we were headed home. I was thankful to get to see my children and to have my life back again. I packed up my belongings, and mom drove me home.
I got home, hugged my children, and headed upstairs. I sent a message to Travis, asking how his evening was going, and life in general. Then I got the news:
He decided that it wasn't working. And apparently the best time to decide this is when the significant other is in the hospital. That does seem rather convenient.
Ok, I am not being fair. I will back-track a moment to a week before. We had been on a date, and he shared a story of a past girlfriend, and some issues she had. Because he had shared the story, I decided to share a story of my long-ago past. It was 16 years before, and really had nothing to do with my current life. Some people can hear stories about people, and respect all they have been through. Other people hear stories, and probably think about all the ways it might affect THEM. Again, it seems that I find a lot of men that really just worry about themselves.
And to kinda confirm my thoughts of this event, I heard a character on tv say these words the other day: "Scars tell us where we have been. They don't have to dictate where we will go." This is the mindset I have always had, and that experience always shapes our future. It doesn't follow us to constantly make decisions for us--we are ultimately accountable for our growth and development. For some people that either can't think that deeply, or are terrified of having to care for someone, I guess this is too much.
So, on the night of my discharge from the hospital, I also had another plate come crashing down. I was single again.
I decided I was going to enjoy my kids and take a break from a lot of things. I also decided that since I had surgery coming up, and I had suddenly gotten really TIRED, I was going to be withdrawing from classes. I would rather focus on my self, my family, and my job. Everything else can wait until later. So, for the next few days, I took some extra-deep breaths, appreciated how great I really was, and really, really, really appreciated the friends I have.
Tomorrow, I will be put to sleep while they remove my thyroid. Hopefully, while they do this surgery, they won't a) release any abnormal or cancerous cells into my body, or b) damage my vocal nerves. Those are really my only concerns. But those are pretty hefty concerns. Let's face it: my job is all about talking, and I need to be able to talk to perform my daily duties. I also have a stellar karaoke career... And I am a bit worried that things aren't right with my thyroid- there's always the chance, and I would hate to think that my adventures would be cut short.
I would say for the past week, I have been through too much. I would also say that I am redefining with whom I need to spend my time. I was talking with my friend Robin about this very issue. She told me about her awesome Aunt Imagene. She's 87 years-old, and does whatever she wants. She pretty much decided she wasn't going to take care of a man, so she lives her life to the fullest, and enjoys being around men. She just isn't a slave to worrying if a man is going to stick around to be MAN enough. Imagene didn't take any crap, and I don't think I will either. She also apparently had some great chandeliers, which I am looking to purchase sometime soon. Honestly, the idea of living my life to explore the world and make my own decisions sounds intriguing. I already have kids, and I love them. I can raise them and enjoy that, and when they leave the nest, I can leave mine.
Or, I can re-prioritize when I come out of this surgery, and realize that someone man enough will come along. And I can still explore the world. And I will definitely be getting tacky chandeliers, as a heads-up to whatever man is looking at heading my way... ;-)
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Saturday, March 23, 2013
An Evening with Jere
This past Thursday, I had the pleasure of joining a good friend for an evening of dinner and schmoozing at a fancy benefit dinner. The event was the CABIA Annual Benefit dinner, and that is the Chattanooga Area Brain Injury Association. Suffice it to say that everyone in that room (all 150+) were in some way touched by brain injury. If you'd like a slap in the face of the reality around you, attending a dinner such as this would be a great way to do so.
Jere sent me a message Tuesday, asking me to attend the dinner with him. He was worried it was too short notice, though I remembered that I was supposed to have the event on my calendar in the first place. I arranged a babysitter, and told him I'd be there. I remember sending a message back to him asking what the attire would be. His response: "wear pearls and comfortable shoes." It seems I never get a typical response from Jere.
I realized I hadn't worn a dress in ages. I guess the last time I wore one was graduation night, and that was only briefly enough to get to the event and back home. I am not a dress person, but it seemed that the evening would be a reason to delve into something new. Tuesday evening, after class, I hit the clothing stores looking for a dress.
The other task was interesting: I did ask my boyfriend if it was ok that I attended a swanky dinner with another man. This seemed to be a strange question, because it was an all-around weird situation. Jere was "another man," but it was definitely different with him. He was a good friend, a kindred spirit, and it was a different type of relationship from the normal "other men" that are out there. Travis said he could have me for twenty bucks... I am thankful I am dating an understanding man. :-)
On Thursday, I finished work and took off down the interstate. I remember curling my hair and changing clothes between classes! I knew that even if I left at 3pm, I would barely make it to the dinner in time. I pulled up to the location, The Mill in Chattanooga, and saw Jere wandering around the parking lot.
Jere looked whimsically dapper. He was cleaned up, with a dress shirt, tie, and coat. I was entertained with how the colors did not match, but complemented each other so well. It gave him the look of an absent-minded professor, but made him absolutely charming at the same time. He gave me the once over, and told me I looked splendid. We went inside to check in and find our table.
Through the evening, we talked with many people who have themselves dealt with brain injury. The whole experience made me realize how little I talk about the subject. I guess even though I have wanted to interview people and write about it, the whole experience to me is just something I need to suck up and deal with. I guess I feel like rehashing all of my feelings over and over again will just waste time. I do know better of this now, and realize there is a tremendous amount of support around me, if I am willing to ask. I met a woman that has almost no short-term memory, and always meets someone new (even when she has met you twenty times before). I met a few people that shared physical disabilities along with their brain injuries. We sat with a couple that actually met, dated and married AFTER the brain injury had occurred (which gave me hope). All in all, it was an absolutely wonderful evening.
The speaker was a lawyer from Atlanta that had suffered a brain injury in 2004, after a car accident. He talked about reach out to those around you, and to spreading knowledge of brain injury. Everyone knows what concussions are, but very few people understand the effects of brain injury, and that the recovery is life-long. There are so many people that are so very lucky to be alive, but that doesn't mean they aren't still pushing and clawing their way through life. Recovery is never meant to be easy, and a life-long recovery can be grueling.
After hearing him speak, we said our goodbyes to those around us. Jere and I made small talk all the way to the parking lot, where he asked me if I would be able to drive home. I told him I should be ok, as I let out a yawn. He told me I needed coffee, and that we would grab a quick cup of coffee before I hit the road. I got in my car to follow him, and we drove through the streets of Chattanooga, in search of liquid energy.
Following Jere through the streets of Chattanooga is like following him in any conversation. He is incredibly intelligent and quick-witted, but he also makes connections and turns that most people don't see. Trying to keep up with him leaves me mentally exhausted. I was relieved when we pulled into the parking spots at the Bluff Art District. We would be visiting Rembrandt's, the coffee shop where we first met and talked.
I did a quick mental calculation, and realized it was just about one year ago that we made our first trek to the coffee shop. I didn't say a word, because I knew that this tidbit was probably irrelevant. We got out of the cars and walked to the shop. I am always entertained by the glances and fake smiles we receive when walking about town together--it must look strange to see a white-haired sixty-one year-old with a young, thirty year-old brunette. I chuckled to myself, because those people didn't realize that this wasn't some strange relationship they read about in the tabloids. This was the meeting of good friends, ready to connect and share their life experiences over coffee.
Inside, I ordered a cup of coffee and a dessert, and he did the same. We sat down at the table and began to chat while our order was being prepared. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was ready to get down to the real conversation. It's hard to be ourselves in front of all of those people. As much as we make sense to each other, I believe our conversation would seem odd in front of an audience.
He asked me about my experience in court earlier that day. I told him about the drudgery of dealing with child support court, and he commented that he expected sparks to fly and fire to come from my eyes when I spoke of my ex-husband. I told him that honestly, he wasn't worth that much energy anymore. There are bigger and better things ahead of me, and those thoughts would only hold me back.
We moved on to talk about brain injury. I couldn't tell if my thoughts were coherent at that point, but he seemed to understand. He always seems to understand what I am saying, even when I am not quite sure I am saying real words. I tell him how frustrating it is to deal with the recovery, how I have great days where I feel like I am the "old me," and then many other days where I can't even remember who the "old me" was. My frustrations are with my processing speed, my memory, and my indifference to the people around me on any given day. I know that all of these are valid complaints for someone with a traumatic brain injury, but I still don't like it. I know the biggest part of me that hasn't recovered is my spirit, because I am still grieving the person I thought I was before the accident.
I say that because sometimes I become confused. Sometimes I wonder if I am remembering who I once was, or if I am having thoughts of who I always wanted to be. And since everyone around me seems to want to cut me a lot of slack, I have to depend on myself to remember what life was like before. And Jere, bless his heart, worries I don't get enough sleep and give my body enough time to heal. I know he's right, but I still feel like I am making up for lost time. Every day, I wake up and go to bed feeling that way. Sometimes I take it in stride, and sometimes it terrifies me.
Toward the end of our conversation, we talk about writing together again. The whole reason we ever came together was because I was writing, and he was someone I needed to interview. This evolved into him helping me write, then a joint effort. Through the year we have both gone through peaks and valleys, and our writing effort has suffered. This evening was a time that we could make plans to write, and to make a commitment to finally doing something about it.
Eventually, the coffee and dessert were gone, and I realized I had an almost-two hour drive home. We walked out of the shop, and down the street. He told me about how his house was going on the market, and he would be moving to North Carolina. I could feel my heart stop, because I wasn't liking the idea of him moving so far away. It's not like we see each other even weekly, but I like knowing he's only a few hours away anytime I've needed to chat.
We walked to our cars, parked on top of the bridge, and turned to say our goodbyes. He grabbed me and pulled me close to hug me, and I felt the stress of the day fade away. He told me how much he leaned on me, and I almost cried when I thought about how much I have leaned on him over the past year. I honestly owed much of my success in this past year to how grounded he has made me feel. Having someone who has been to hell and back, for just about the same reason, can make the world of difference. Being able to say whatever I want, whenever I want, and knowing he has felt the same way makes a big difference in dealing with issues. And knowing that whenever I try to convince myself of something, he will be there to call me out on my BS and push me to find the truth. THAT is the mark of a special relationship. Whatever happens from here on out, I know that this has been a truly magical time for me.
I also had a brief moment where I wondered if the people driving below had looked up to see us. I wondered what they saw while driving--a man with silvery hair, holding a young woman for dear life, on top of a moonlit bridge. I wondered if anyone questioned the peculiarity of our pairing. I know I've questioned it often, but have always remained grateful for divine intervention.
And Lisa Morgan. You see, Lisa Morgan is the woman that introduced us a year ago in Siskin Rehabilitation Hospital. I can remember it like it was yesterday... Jere walked through the door, and Lisa told us we could go sit in the cafeteria and talk. His response: "cafeteria food sucks!" He then looked at me, a stranger, and said "Let's go somewhere else and eat. I'm driving."
I looked at him, and gave an immediate response of "sure!" I hadn't thought through the fact that I didn't know the extent of his brain injury. I only knew that this would be someone interesting, and I was determined to find some adventure. I remember Lisa's final words as we walked out the door together:
"Don't let me see you two on the news!!!"
Jere sent me a message Tuesday, asking me to attend the dinner with him. He was worried it was too short notice, though I remembered that I was supposed to have the event on my calendar in the first place. I arranged a babysitter, and told him I'd be there. I remember sending a message back to him asking what the attire would be. His response: "wear pearls and comfortable shoes." It seems I never get a typical response from Jere.
I realized I hadn't worn a dress in ages. I guess the last time I wore one was graduation night, and that was only briefly enough to get to the event and back home. I am not a dress person, but it seemed that the evening would be a reason to delve into something new. Tuesday evening, after class, I hit the clothing stores looking for a dress.
The other task was interesting: I did ask my boyfriend if it was ok that I attended a swanky dinner with another man. This seemed to be a strange question, because it was an all-around weird situation. Jere was "another man," but it was definitely different with him. He was a good friend, a kindred spirit, and it was a different type of relationship from the normal "other men" that are out there. Travis said he could have me for twenty bucks... I am thankful I am dating an understanding man. :-)
On Thursday, I finished work and took off down the interstate. I remember curling my hair and changing clothes between classes! I knew that even if I left at 3pm, I would barely make it to the dinner in time. I pulled up to the location, The Mill in Chattanooga, and saw Jere wandering around the parking lot.
Jere looked whimsically dapper. He was cleaned up, with a dress shirt, tie, and coat. I was entertained with how the colors did not match, but complemented each other so well. It gave him the look of an absent-minded professor, but made him absolutely charming at the same time. He gave me the once over, and told me I looked splendid. We went inside to check in and find our table.
Through the evening, we talked with many people who have themselves dealt with brain injury. The whole experience made me realize how little I talk about the subject. I guess even though I have wanted to interview people and write about it, the whole experience to me is just something I need to suck up and deal with. I guess I feel like rehashing all of my feelings over and over again will just waste time. I do know better of this now, and realize there is a tremendous amount of support around me, if I am willing to ask. I met a woman that has almost no short-term memory, and always meets someone new (even when she has met you twenty times before). I met a few people that shared physical disabilities along with their brain injuries. We sat with a couple that actually met, dated and married AFTER the brain injury had occurred (which gave me hope). All in all, it was an absolutely wonderful evening.
The speaker was a lawyer from Atlanta that had suffered a brain injury in 2004, after a car accident. He talked about reach out to those around you, and to spreading knowledge of brain injury. Everyone knows what concussions are, but very few people understand the effects of brain injury, and that the recovery is life-long. There are so many people that are so very lucky to be alive, but that doesn't mean they aren't still pushing and clawing their way through life. Recovery is never meant to be easy, and a life-long recovery can be grueling.
After hearing him speak, we said our goodbyes to those around us. Jere and I made small talk all the way to the parking lot, where he asked me if I would be able to drive home. I told him I should be ok, as I let out a yawn. He told me I needed coffee, and that we would grab a quick cup of coffee before I hit the road. I got in my car to follow him, and we drove through the streets of Chattanooga, in search of liquid energy.
Following Jere through the streets of Chattanooga is like following him in any conversation. He is incredibly intelligent and quick-witted, but he also makes connections and turns that most people don't see. Trying to keep up with him leaves me mentally exhausted. I was relieved when we pulled into the parking spots at the Bluff Art District. We would be visiting Rembrandt's, the coffee shop where we first met and talked.
I did a quick mental calculation, and realized it was just about one year ago that we made our first trek to the coffee shop. I didn't say a word, because I knew that this tidbit was probably irrelevant. We got out of the cars and walked to the shop. I am always entertained by the glances and fake smiles we receive when walking about town together--it must look strange to see a white-haired sixty-one year-old with a young, thirty year-old brunette. I chuckled to myself, because those people didn't realize that this wasn't some strange relationship they read about in the tabloids. This was the meeting of good friends, ready to connect and share their life experiences over coffee.
Inside, I ordered a cup of coffee and a dessert, and he did the same. We sat down at the table and began to chat while our order was being prepared. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was ready to get down to the real conversation. It's hard to be ourselves in front of all of those people. As much as we make sense to each other, I believe our conversation would seem odd in front of an audience.
He asked me about my experience in court earlier that day. I told him about the drudgery of dealing with child support court, and he commented that he expected sparks to fly and fire to come from my eyes when I spoke of my ex-husband. I told him that honestly, he wasn't worth that much energy anymore. There are bigger and better things ahead of me, and those thoughts would only hold me back.
We moved on to talk about brain injury. I couldn't tell if my thoughts were coherent at that point, but he seemed to understand. He always seems to understand what I am saying, even when I am not quite sure I am saying real words. I tell him how frustrating it is to deal with the recovery, how I have great days where I feel like I am the "old me," and then many other days where I can't even remember who the "old me" was. My frustrations are with my processing speed, my memory, and my indifference to the people around me on any given day. I know that all of these are valid complaints for someone with a traumatic brain injury, but I still don't like it. I know the biggest part of me that hasn't recovered is my spirit, because I am still grieving the person I thought I was before the accident.
I say that because sometimes I become confused. Sometimes I wonder if I am remembering who I once was, or if I am having thoughts of who I always wanted to be. And since everyone around me seems to want to cut me a lot of slack, I have to depend on myself to remember what life was like before. And Jere, bless his heart, worries I don't get enough sleep and give my body enough time to heal. I know he's right, but I still feel like I am making up for lost time. Every day, I wake up and go to bed feeling that way. Sometimes I take it in stride, and sometimes it terrifies me.
Toward the end of our conversation, we talk about writing together again. The whole reason we ever came together was because I was writing, and he was someone I needed to interview. This evolved into him helping me write, then a joint effort. Through the year we have both gone through peaks and valleys, and our writing effort has suffered. This evening was a time that we could make plans to write, and to make a commitment to finally doing something about it.
Eventually, the coffee and dessert were gone, and I realized I had an almost-two hour drive home. We walked out of the shop, and down the street. He told me about how his house was going on the market, and he would be moving to North Carolina. I could feel my heart stop, because I wasn't liking the idea of him moving so far away. It's not like we see each other even weekly, but I like knowing he's only a few hours away anytime I've needed to chat.
We walked to our cars, parked on top of the bridge, and turned to say our goodbyes. He grabbed me and pulled me close to hug me, and I felt the stress of the day fade away. He told me how much he leaned on me, and I almost cried when I thought about how much I have leaned on him over the past year. I honestly owed much of my success in this past year to how grounded he has made me feel. Having someone who has been to hell and back, for just about the same reason, can make the world of difference. Being able to say whatever I want, whenever I want, and knowing he has felt the same way makes a big difference in dealing with issues. And knowing that whenever I try to convince myself of something, he will be there to call me out on my BS and push me to find the truth. THAT is the mark of a special relationship. Whatever happens from here on out, I know that this has been a truly magical time for me.
I also had a brief moment where I wondered if the people driving below had looked up to see us. I wondered what they saw while driving--a man with silvery hair, holding a young woman for dear life, on top of a moonlit bridge. I wondered if anyone questioned the peculiarity of our pairing. I know I've questioned it often, but have always remained grateful for divine intervention.
And Lisa Morgan. You see, Lisa Morgan is the woman that introduced us a year ago in Siskin Rehabilitation Hospital. I can remember it like it was yesterday... Jere walked through the door, and Lisa told us we could go sit in the cafeteria and talk. His response: "cafeteria food sucks!" He then looked at me, a stranger, and said "Let's go somewhere else and eat. I'm driving."
I looked at him, and gave an immediate response of "sure!" I hadn't thought through the fact that I didn't know the extent of his brain injury. I only knew that this would be someone interesting, and I was determined to find some adventure. I remember Lisa's final words as we walked out the door together:
"Don't let me see you two on the news!!!"
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Spring is in the air...
There's nothing like the change from cold, blustery days to warm and breezy. This winter, it seemed like the cold, nasty weather dragged on forever, and it started to nag on my mood. I was waiting for the days when I could get out and move. It seemed that cabin fever got the better of me.
Then, it seemed like a switch was flipped and everything was gorgeous outside. Flowers were blooming, warm temperatures lured me outdoors, and it seemed everything was at peace. I even caught my children outside, lying on their backs in the yard and looking at the clouds.
This made me think back to a year ago, when everything really started to heal. It was an almost immediate event, achieving calm in our house. Shortly after our move to Tullahoma, the children became more calm and well-adjusted. Their anxieties lessened, and mine did as well. Over the course of a few months, I ran myself ragged trying to make "normal" happen for them. It took until last March for me to feel GOOD. I guess when you endure crap for years, it is going to take more than a month or two to feel normal.
Today, while I was sitting in the garden and digging in the ground, I thought about how different my life is now. I am independent, confident in taking the children out and doing whatever I need to do, and I don't constantly worry about things. It seems my life is in order, but I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that I AM IN CONTROL. No matter what measures I took to be responsible and thoughtful, if the other part of the equation is stealing money and disappearing, we will never move ahead. Even with the little a teacher makes, it seems my life is running so much smoother.
And socially it seems I am coming out on top. I have some good friendships, though I wish I had time to see them more often. I am getting out and trying new things, which was a major part of the project last year. I am dating an absolutely wonderful guy, and am quite happy even in our basic encounters.
A word about him...
Last night, we were meeting to go to dinner and the drive-in theater. Earlier in the day, he confirmed that I did like pineapple (my favorite fruit), and said nothing more. When I arrived at the parking lot to meet him, he came out of his car with a white dishpan. The inside was filled with white towels, and he told me he needed to put something in my car's trunk. We were taking his car, but he wanted to make sure I got this gift. I wasn't allowed to see it until later, so he tucked it in the trunk and shut the lid.
We had a fantastic dinner, and the movies were absolutely terrible. We had a lot of fun talking before the movie, and laughing at the absurdity of the movies. When we returned to the cars, he leaped out of his vehicle and opened my trunk. He took out a pie he had made, and placed it back in the trunk. I looked at him with a puzzled expression, and asked if he made that for me. He told me he did, and went on to say that he wished he had bought enough ingredients to make him a pie as well. At that point I was very surprised, because this meant he sought out to make me something that was for only me. It wasn't a coincidence that he was making several, or that someone handed him a pie he didn't want.
Now, I might sound absolutely ridiculous about going on about a pie. I guess without divulging much personal information, I should say that this is the most timid and teenage dating experience I have ever had. It has gone extremely slow, I have always been thought of for who I am and what I stand for, and myself and my children have come ahead of what he wants. He has always been ultra-polite, thought about the fact that I was someone's daughter, and always wanted to develop a relationship and make something meaningful, instead of making another notch in the bedpost.
And this was terribly new to me, because it always seemed other people had agendas. Either that, or they had so many issues that they wanted to put aside my thoughts and feelings to care for them. It was just a pie, but it was absolutely refreshing to receive something that someone took time to plan for, assembled, and took great in transporting in the hopes I would enjoy it. In the world of Love Languages, I am definitely an Acts of Service or Quality Time person. I am not much for flashy gifts and such, but if someone does something for me, or takes the time to do something I enjoy just because, then that means the world to me.
And last night, that simple gesture meant the world to me.
I am not really good at projecting what will happen in the future. For some reason, there are experiences that seemed smooth-sailing that later turned out to end quickly. There were years that definitely did not end the way I planned. But I have to believe that when something builds on a foundation of getting to know someone, and values building a bond and a relationship over physical feelings, then something big starts to happen. I start getting pies that are made specifically for me, and I start thinking while gardening of something new and exciting I might want to show him. Maybe a silly monument I saw once, or an adventure I always wanted to take. The point is, I feel the most important part of a relationship is when you start to put someone into your everyday life. The pie was just a symbol, but it was an absolutely delicious one!
In a few days, it will officially be Spring. The day after that, I go to court to deal with child support issues with my ex-husband. I will say that my sporadic dealings in the area of child support issues and ex-strangeness have made me appreciate the gestures such as the pie. Not just that gesture, but really that Travis is a good, ethical, faithful person. He is interested in only doing what is right, and has an incredible work ethic. When I was 20 and I wanted to live an exciting life, we probably wouldn't have matched up with me very well. Now that I am wiser in the ways of the world, and have learned through experience what really matters, I can see that someone with stability in all areas of life can make me feel the most secure. And that is a GOOD feeling. :-)
Then, it seemed like a switch was flipped and everything was gorgeous outside. Flowers were blooming, warm temperatures lured me outdoors, and it seemed everything was at peace. I even caught my children outside, lying on their backs in the yard and looking at the clouds.
This made me think back to a year ago, when everything really started to heal. It was an almost immediate event, achieving calm in our house. Shortly after our move to Tullahoma, the children became more calm and well-adjusted. Their anxieties lessened, and mine did as well. Over the course of a few months, I ran myself ragged trying to make "normal" happen for them. It took until last March for me to feel GOOD. I guess when you endure crap for years, it is going to take more than a month or two to feel normal.
Today, while I was sitting in the garden and digging in the ground, I thought about how different my life is now. I am independent, confident in taking the children out and doing whatever I need to do, and I don't constantly worry about things. It seems my life is in order, but I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that I AM IN CONTROL. No matter what measures I took to be responsible and thoughtful, if the other part of the equation is stealing money and disappearing, we will never move ahead. Even with the little a teacher makes, it seems my life is running so much smoother.
And socially it seems I am coming out on top. I have some good friendships, though I wish I had time to see them more often. I am getting out and trying new things, which was a major part of the project last year. I am dating an absolutely wonderful guy, and am quite happy even in our basic encounters.
A word about him...
Last night, we were meeting to go to dinner and the drive-in theater. Earlier in the day, he confirmed that I did like pineapple (my favorite fruit), and said nothing more. When I arrived at the parking lot to meet him, he came out of his car with a white dishpan. The inside was filled with white towels, and he told me he needed to put something in my car's trunk. We were taking his car, but he wanted to make sure I got this gift. I wasn't allowed to see it until later, so he tucked it in the trunk and shut the lid.
We had a fantastic dinner, and the movies were absolutely terrible. We had a lot of fun talking before the movie, and laughing at the absurdity of the movies. When we returned to the cars, he leaped out of his vehicle and opened my trunk. He took out a pie he had made, and placed it back in the trunk. I looked at him with a puzzled expression, and asked if he made that for me. He told me he did, and went on to say that he wished he had bought enough ingredients to make him a pie as well. At that point I was very surprised, because this meant he sought out to make me something that was for only me. It wasn't a coincidence that he was making several, or that someone handed him a pie he didn't want.
Now, I might sound absolutely ridiculous about going on about a pie. I guess without divulging much personal information, I should say that this is the most timid and teenage dating experience I have ever had. It has gone extremely slow, I have always been thought of for who I am and what I stand for, and myself and my children have come ahead of what he wants. He has always been ultra-polite, thought about the fact that I was someone's daughter, and always wanted to develop a relationship and make something meaningful, instead of making another notch in the bedpost.
And this was terribly new to me, because it always seemed other people had agendas. Either that, or they had so many issues that they wanted to put aside my thoughts and feelings to care for them. It was just a pie, but it was absolutely refreshing to receive something that someone took time to plan for, assembled, and took great in transporting in the hopes I would enjoy it. In the world of Love Languages, I am definitely an Acts of Service or Quality Time person. I am not much for flashy gifts and such, but if someone does something for me, or takes the time to do something I enjoy just because, then that means the world to me.
And last night, that simple gesture meant the world to me.
I am not really good at projecting what will happen in the future. For some reason, there are experiences that seemed smooth-sailing that later turned out to end quickly. There were years that definitely did not end the way I planned. But I have to believe that when something builds on a foundation of getting to know someone, and values building a bond and a relationship over physical feelings, then something big starts to happen. I start getting pies that are made specifically for me, and I start thinking while gardening of something new and exciting I might want to show him. Maybe a silly monument I saw once, or an adventure I always wanted to take. The point is, I feel the most important part of a relationship is when you start to put someone into your everyday life. The pie was just a symbol, but it was an absolutely delicious one!
In a few days, it will officially be Spring. The day after that, I go to court to deal with child support issues with my ex-husband. I will say that my sporadic dealings in the area of child support issues and ex-strangeness have made me appreciate the gestures such as the pie. Not just that gesture, but really that Travis is a good, ethical, faithful person. He is interested in only doing what is right, and has an incredible work ethic. When I was 20 and I wanted to live an exciting life, we probably wouldn't have matched up with me very well. Now that I am wiser in the ways of the world, and have learned through experience what really matters, I can see that someone with stability in all areas of life can make me feel the most secure. And that is a GOOD feeling. :-)
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Another Month Behind Me
It seems about this time every year, I get rather reflective. I dwell on the past a bit, worry about the future, and am always unsettled about the present. I blame it on the weather--there's never a consistent week in February and March. It can be 65 degrees one minute, and 30 and snowing the next. Once the renewed hope of Spring comes along, everything is fine.
I thought for a bit on how I ended up at the present. I think everyone has these moments, where they sit in bed at 3am and wonder how they ended up at this exact moment in their lives. I told Travis that this is a perk of being married: so you can wake up the other person and tell them your troubles. He said this is when the male's trait of selective hearing comes in handy!
I had quite a few days like this over the past month. Don't get me wrong; I love my children, my family, friends, job and am content with my current relationship status. I guess it's just that some well-meaning comments by people can be a catalyst for thought. And in my case, it would be WAY too much thought...
As I typed that last statement, I had a mental picture of the face Travis would give me. It's the goofiest and most sarcastic face, and he would say of all the people he's ever met, I would be the least likely to overthink things. :-)
The comment came about like this: I ran into an acquaintance from high school, and was doing the three-minute catchup. I listened to her summary, then gave her mine. I received a "hum..." I looked at her with a glance that asked what her problem was with my summary! Heck, I just gave her the plot for a Lifetime movie! She told me it was nothing; just that she thought for sure I would be something else... besides a teacher. She backed up the comment by saying I was incredibly smart, and she always figured I was destined for greatness...
Well, I have greatness, and they are named Alex and Carly Winn. :-)
I know what she meant though, and everyone probably thought a similar thought. I was always the "smart kid" growing up, and everyone figured that my knowledge base in science, language, mathematics and life would prep me for a profession in the medical field, teaching college, or running a company. I was quite a smartie back in high school, and I know that people thought I would take the world by storm. And when I was in high school, I had my mind on one thing only: getting out. I was ready to get out there and show the world who was boss!
Now, I know everyone has dreams of what they might be when they grow up. And many children name the same canned responses for years. I always knew I wanted to be a doctor, and work in the medical field. I know a lot about the body, illnesses, and medications, and how they all work together. Then how did I end up in special education?
By accident. While I was busy being destined for greatness, I worked in a summer program for kids. And all of the students with special needs kept mysteriously being put in my group. Over that summer, I realized I really liked my job. In fact, when I think about it now, it's the only teaching field where it's a perk to have a medical background (students tend to come along with many diagnosis, medications and treatments. It pays to know your stuff!).
Am I happy now? I really hate answering that question, because happiness is a fleeting emotion. I will say I am TIRED right now, because that has remained a constant amidst all of this.
I am content with where I am right now, because I know that I am doing a lot of good for a lot of kids. For a lot of them, I am the voice that will make change happen. Not many people can say that each day they protect the lives of many, while educating them, and ensuring their safety and emotional health. It's exhausting, but it's something I truly love.
And the future? I am halfway done with my first semester in Clinical Mental Health Counseling, and I know that will be a field where I will be able to concentrate my focus. I will be able to learn all the clinical and medical information I want, and will be able to apply it in my field. My dream is to bridge teaching and therapy, and I am already making plans for that to happen.
I looked at my calendar today, and realized that this time last year (well, in a few days), I had one of my truly perfect days. I was driving to Chattanooga for work, and stopped to sit on a bench and listen to the wind chimes. I remember I was eating a soft pretzel at the time, and the warmth of the sun on my body warmed my soul. There was such a peace in that day, and such a calm inside me. That was the day I knew everything would be alright, and that my life would go on just fine. It's crazy to see what a year has done for me: I am more assertive and goal-oriented, but I have relaxed a lot more as well. I have had more time and focused more energy on enjoying my kids, and have many more laughs over the past year. I have gotten in much better shape (115 pounds down!) and feel fantastic! I have worked to make and maintain female friendships, and have evaluated my relationships with men. I have also made some fantastic memories over the course of this year, embracing the day and learning not to take myself so seriously.
Now that I think about it, how many people can say that about one year of their lives? Or even their whole life?
Looks like I did take on the world after all. :-)
I thought for a bit on how I ended up at the present. I think everyone has these moments, where they sit in bed at 3am and wonder how they ended up at this exact moment in their lives. I told Travis that this is a perk of being married: so you can wake up the other person and tell them your troubles. He said this is when the male's trait of selective hearing comes in handy!
I had quite a few days like this over the past month. Don't get me wrong; I love my children, my family, friends, job and am content with my current relationship status. I guess it's just that some well-meaning comments by people can be a catalyst for thought. And in my case, it would be WAY too much thought...
As I typed that last statement, I had a mental picture of the face Travis would give me. It's the goofiest and most sarcastic face, and he would say of all the people he's ever met, I would be the least likely to overthink things. :-)
The comment came about like this: I ran into an acquaintance from high school, and was doing the three-minute catchup. I listened to her summary, then gave her mine. I received a "hum..." I looked at her with a glance that asked what her problem was with my summary! Heck, I just gave her the plot for a Lifetime movie! She told me it was nothing; just that she thought for sure I would be something else... besides a teacher. She backed up the comment by saying I was incredibly smart, and she always figured I was destined for greatness...
Well, I have greatness, and they are named Alex and Carly Winn. :-)
I know what she meant though, and everyone probably thought a similar thought. I was always the "smart kid" growing up, and everyone figured that my knowledge base in science, language, mathematics and life would prep me for a profession in the medical field, teaching college, or running a company. I was quite a smartie back in high school, and I know that people thought I would take the world by storm. And when I was in high school, I had my mind on one thing only: getting out. I was ready to get out there and show the world who was boss!
Now, I know everyone has dreams of what they might be when they grow up. And many children name the same canned responses for years. I always knew I wanted to be a doctor, and work in the medical field. I know a lot about the body, illnesses, and medications, and how they all work together. Then how did I end up in special education?
By accident. While I was busy being destined for greatness, I worked in a summer program for kids. And all of the students with special needs kept mysteriously being put in my group. Over that summer, I realized I really liked my job. In fact, when I think about it now, it's the only teaching field where it's a perk to have a medical background (students tend to come along with many diagnosis, medications and treatments. It pays to know your stuff!).
Am I happy now? I really hate answering that question, because happiness is a fleeting emotion. I will say I am TIRED right now, because that has remained a constant amidst all of this.
I am content with where I am right now, because I know that I am doing a lot of good for a lot of kids. For a lot of them, I am the voice that will make change happen. Not many people can say that each day they protect the lives of many, while educating them, and ensuring their safety and emotional health. It's exhausting, but it's something I truly love.
And the future? I am halfway done with my first semester in Clinical Mental Health Counseling, and I know that will be a field where I will be able to concentrate my focus. I will be able to learn all the clinical and medical information I want, and will be able to apply it in my field. My dream is to bridge teaching and therapy, and I am already making plans for that to happen.
I looked at my calendar today, and realized that this time last year (well, in a few days), I had one of my truly perfect days. I was driving to Chattanooga for work, and stopped to sit on a bench and listen to the wind chimes. I remember I was eating a soft pretzel at the time, and the warmth of the sun on my body warmed my soul. There was such a peace in that day, and such a calm inside me. That was the day I knew everything would be alright, and that my life would go on just fine. It's crazy to see what a year has done for me: I am more assertive and goal-oriented, but I have relaxed a lot more as well. I have had more time and focused more energy on enjoying my kids, and have many more laughs over the past year. I have gotten in much better shape (115 pounds down!) and feel fantastic! I have worked to make and maintain female friendships, and have evaluated my relationships with men. I have also made some fantastic memories over the course of this year, embracing the day and learning not to take myself so seriously.
Now that I think about it, how many people can say that about one year of their lives? Or even their whole life?
Looks like I did take on the world after all. :-)
Monday, December 31, 2012
Packing Up 2012
Well, I am at the end of another year. 2012 was a big one for me, because of the project and turning 30. It was also the first year that I was completely, legally (well, for tax purposes, I guess) single. The single thing had already been happening off and on for a couple of years, but it was the first year that it was all me, and everything that happened to me and the kids was because of me. It was GREAT!!
Summarizing a year takes a little bit of time. I had to stretch my mind to think back to the beginning of last year. On New Year's Eve of 2011, I sat down to write a list of things I wanted to do before turning 30. I published my first blog post, and started this wild and crazy adventure.
Over the past year, I continued losing weight from my highest weight (in 2010, post attack). I am now, on the last day of December 2012, at 100.2 pounds less than my starting weight! That's a whole other person!!!
I guess you could look back at the list and see all of the cool things I did. Since that would be boring and tedious, I would like to throw out there some great memories from the year.
I learned to play the drums, while stressing my drum instructor (and friend, Mandy) to the max. I would like to say I am a pro, but that would be lying. I will say that I gave it a lot of effort, and am ready to get back to practicing.
I took a couple of adventures this year. In April, we packed up the family in the Explorer and headed to New York for my father's 50th birthday! In July, I traveled on a road trip to Indiana and Illinois (very briefly), and in October I flew cross-country to see my new nephew, as well as the sights of Washington.
What I missed? I didn't get to ride in the hot air balloon, but that's going to happen this spring. I didn't finish my list of books, which is crazy since I am a teacher. I realized I read tons of books though, just not "classics." Maybe I should have amended that rule... The expensive bottle of wine? Didn't do it, and thought about it quite seriously.
I realized I wanted a big moment to commemorate the purchase of an expensive bottle. Even with my birthday, I didn't feel that was big enough. I know something will eventually be coming up, and I will feel that warrants the purchase and consumption of expensive vino. Until then, I will just hold out hope. :-)
Ups and downs of the year? I was in a relationship for a better part of the year, and it ultimately ended. I just realized after that, and looking back on other relationships, that I don't run a shelter for lost and helpless men. Maybe that's too blunt, but I was growing tired of carrying people. More than anything, that renewed my hope in finding someone that can hold their own.
I entered into another relationship that turned out to be just that, but sometimes people can be so responsible and attempt to take on too much. There's only so much one can control, so I had to bow out. Who knows what the future will hold with that, and I always look around at more options and the fact that the best things hit me when I am not looking.
I have made good friends, laughed a lot, did some writing, and thought a lot about the future. I submitted an application, made it to round 2 interviews, and was admitted for grad school for counseling, so that is something big to look forward to. I have big life changes, and our lives are moving pretty smooth.
I made it through a year of surgeries, and am glad all of that is done! Carly started out the year with tubes in her ears and her adenoids out. I went on to have two leg surgeries, hoping to relieve pain and restore function post-attack. When we found out that the leg surgeries were going to leave me with pain in my back and legs for the rest of my life, I was referred to a surgeon for the option of a neurostimulator in my back. I completed the trial, saw big possibilities with pain relief and restoration of function, and jumped at the chance to get the implant. Now, I am sitting on the couch with much less pain, and a hope to join the world again. I had been powering through and doing so much. I didn't realize how miserable I was while I pushed on. I guess I was in survival mode, and just knew I needed to do the things to make me and the kids ok. I didn't have a choice to be sick. Now I know how miserable I was, and I hope to never get back there.
The year has been incredibly insightful, and I am excited I am now at a point to embrace 2013. Last year, it just felt like I was grasping at a life and hoping for change. This year, I am incredibly confident in who I am, and what will be happening in years to come. It's a good feeling. :-)
Summarizing a year takes a little bit of time. I had to stretch my mind to think back to the beginning of last year. On New Year's Eve of 2011, I sat down to write a list of things I wanted to do before turning 30. I published my first blog post, and started this wild and crazy adventure.
Over the past year, I continued losing weight from my highest weight (in 2010, post attack). I am now, on the last day of December 2012, at 100.2 pounds less than my starting weight! That's a whole other person!!!
I guess you could look back at the list and see all of the cool things I did. Since that would be boring and tedious, I would like to throw out there some great memories from the year.
I learned to play the drums, while stressing my drum instructor (and friend, Mandy) to the max. I would like to say I am a pro, but that would be lying. I will say that I gave it a lot of effort, and am ready to get back to practicing.
I took a couple of adventures this year. In April, we packed up the family in the Explorer and headed to New York for my father's 50th birthday! In July, I traveled on a road trip to Indiana and Illinois (very briefly), and in October I flew cross-country to see my new nephew, as well as the sights of Washington.
What I missed? I didn't get to ride in the hot air balloon, but that's going to happen this spring. I didn't finish my list of books, which is crazy since I am a teacher. I realized I read tons of books though, just not "classics." Maybe I should have amended that rule... The expensive bottle of wine? Didn't do it, and thought about it quite seriously.
I realized I wanted a big moment to commemorate the purchase of an expensive bottle. Even with my birthday, I didn't feel that was big enough. I know something will eventually be coming up, and I will feel that warrants the purchase and consumption of expensive vino. Until then, I will just hold out hope. :-)
Ups and downs of the year? I was in a relationship for a better part of the year, and it ultimately ended. I just realized after that, and looking back on other relationships, that I don't run a shelter for lost and helpless men. Maybe that's too blunt, but I was growing tired of carrying people. More than anything, that renewed my hope in finding someone that can hold their own.
I entered into another relationship that turned out to be just that, but sometimes people can be so responsible and attempt to take on too much. There's only so much one can control, so I had to bow out. Who knows what the future will hold with that, and I always look around at more options and the fact that the best things hit me when I am not looking.
I have made good friends, laughed a lot, did some writing, and thought a lot about the future. I submitted an application, made it to round 2 interviews, and was admitted for grad school for counseling, so that is something big to look forward to. I have big life changes, and our lives are moving pretty smooth.
I made it through a year of surgeries, and am glad all of that is done! Carly started out the year with tubes in her ears and her adenoids out. I went on to have two leg surgeries, hoping to relieve pain and restore function post-attack. When we found out that the leg surgeries were going to leave me with pain in my back and legs for the rest of my life, I was referred to a surgeon for the option of a neurostimulator in my back. I completed the trial, saw big possibilities with pain relief and restoration of function, and jumped at the chance to get the implant. Now, I am sitting on the couch with much less pain, and a hope to join the world again. I had been powering through and doing so much. I didn't realize how miserable I was while I pushed on. I guess I was in survival mode, and just knew I needed to do the things to make me and the kids ok. I didn't have a choice to be sick. Now I know how miserable I was, and I hope to never get back there.
The year has been incredibly insightful, and I am excited I am now at a point to embrace 2013. Last year, it just felt like I was grasping at a life and hoping for change. This year, I am incredibly confident in who I am, and what will be happening in years to come. It's a good feeling. :-)
Saturday, December 22, 2012
My Letter to Santa
My children are at the perfect age to experience Christmas
in all of its glory.
We had a talk about what
Christmas means, and how the holiday celebrates love and giving more than
anything else. We gave in to the secular
side of things, and they went to Breakfast with Santa, lists in their
head. They know that giving is the
reason for the season, but they also had ideas of what they would like to
receive. I was truly impressed with their
questions and insight; they have had thoughtful commentary throughout this
entire month.
Alex was on my bed yesterday,
since I have been recovering from back surgery. He was talking to me about the
holiday, and he asked me “what did you ask for from Santa?”
I tried to explain that Santa really doesn’t bring things
for adults, but he cut me off…
“You said that Santa shows his love and giving to everyone,
and that we should do the same. If Santa is going to bring me my gifts, I want
him to bring you what you wish for! Did you write a letter?”
My only reply: “no…”
So, Alex challenged me with writing a letter to Santa. I sat on this for a day, because I felt like
I was really too old. I also feel like I really don’t need to ask for much,
because I am “lucky” to have all that has come to me (which shows you I have
quite a bit of survivor’s guilt from conquering so much).
Today, three days before Christmas, I decided I would write
my Christmas letter. I know I am one
person in the grand scheme of things, but I am one person that has shown loving
and caring actions throughout the year, has gone above and beyond what is
expected, and would definitely be included on Santa’s “NICE” list.
So, here goes…
Dear Santa,
I look around me, and I see so
many things I have that I am thankful for. I have two beautiful children that
have grown to be happy and well-adjusted youngsters. I have a family that loves and supports me,
and I receive support on a daily basis from my parents (we live upstairs in
their house!).
I have my work that leaves me
fulfilled on most days. I enjoy my job, and love that I am making a difference
each and every day. I am grateful for my
colleagues, that inspire me and give me new ideas, and for the feedback I get
from all of the students. It is really an honor to be included in their plan to
grow up and make something of their lives.
Over the past few years, life
has had its rough patches. There were days when I honestly didn’t want to get
out of bed, but did what had to be done. There were moments when I thought I
couldn’t handle anything more, and wondered when I would break from all the
pressures around me. There were some days when I left work, and I felt a strong
urge to take off to a distant city, just to become someone else. Just so I
could get a break from this life that was wearing me down and wearing me thin. As
time went on, I came to accept myself for what I was, and to learn to love the
me that has endured all of these obstacles. I came to find out that I was happy
with who I was, and I didn’t have to
live my life so that someone else would “complete me.”
Maybe when I made all of these
exclamations to the universe, you misunderstood me? I did say that I didn’t
need someone to complete me, but I didn’t mean that I wanted to live my life
alone!
For Christmas, I would like to
make one magical request. I know it’s a long shot, but all I’d really like for
Christmas is to know that I matter. I
think all I want in this world is to be wanted, and I guess that’s my selfish
wish. Through this past year of
self-discovery, I have completed a lot of really cool projects. I had some
great experiences, and enjoyed the world around me. What was missing? I didn’t have someone to
talk to after the days that were great, and those that were not so great. I didn’t have even the normal relationship
where I would sit and read my geeky books while he watches sports or DIY
shows. That seems like a simplistic way
to put it, but that’s it.
And when things get bad, and
life seems rough, at least you have someone on your side. Someone that is there no matter what happens. Someone that is your greatest fan, and can
see through the fog to the other side.
It’s always nice to have someone by your side when life is grand and
great things are happening. It’s more
important to have someone by your side that just keeps you moving, and
reassures you that life will continue when this stressor subsides.
I love cheesy 80s movies, and I
remember all of the great moments in John Hughes movies when the teen guy
proclaims his desire for the young female. In Say Anything, I remember watching Lloyd Dobber hold up a boom box
and play a Peter Gabriel song for his love that he lost. Really in any of the
great 80s movies, the men just jumped up, raced across town (usually in a
sports car), and proclaimed their love publicly for their women. I am not 17
anymore, but that idea is heartwarming.
I am not at a point in my life
where ideas and moments have lost their magic.
On the contrary, I was talking to my best friend Robin the other day
about what constitutes “normal” in my life. She told me my life was unbelievably
normal. It’s all the way I see things; day
after day, I see normal things as magical and special. And because I see my life as magical, it
starts to feel that way.
What’s missing for me this
holiday season? I miss that feeling of when I was younger, when someone would look
at you like you are the only other person on Earth. For a moment in time, their
thoughts are only of you. Children are really good at expressing this type of
love. Adults aren’t so great about being that vulnerable.
I imagine Santa might tell me
to pick something more attainable. He would probably say that I should mention
a specific item that I want (that I can already buy myself), or to hope for something
vague so that I can’t be dissatisfied.
But I’ve never known Santa to
be a realist…
Thanks,
Michelle
P.S. I want to wish all of my friends, family, and people I
have met along my journey a wonderful Christmas filled with love, joy, and the support
that keeps you going. There will be
peaks in life, and there will be valleys.
Take a good look around you, realize that there are people willing to
join you on your journey, and hug them like there’s no tomorrow. Situations are temporary, money and jobs are
only things, and life is meant to be appreciated for the struggles and the
victories. Wherever you are this holiday season, surround yourself with
love. Good things happen when good
people are around you.
And if you have a brown trench coat, a boom box, and an old
Peter Gabriel cassette, I will be waiting by my window.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Today's Great Task
Tonight I decided I would tackle the task of taking photos for the Christmas card...
Let that sink in for a minute...
Yes, I decided it would be a fantastic idea for me to take many photos of a 3.5 and 5.5 year old, and require that they follow commands and remain still for even short periods of time.
I may be drinking my expensive wine sooner than I think. That was more stressful than any of my workday. Kudos to professional photographers. I was exhausted after the first ten minutes.
But, cute things happened! I will say I am rather impressed with the results, and with my genetic contribution to the two most adorable kids on Earth!!! :-D
Let that sink in for a minute...
Yes, I decided it would be a fantastic idea for me to take many photos of a 3.5 and 5.5 year old, and require that they follow commands and remain still for even short periods of time.
I may be drinking my expensive wine sooner than I think. That was more stressful than any of my workday. Kudos to professional photographers. I was exhausted after the first ten minutes.
But, cute things happened! I will say I am rather impressed with the results, and with my genetic contribution to the two most adorable kids on Earth!!! :-D
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