Cutting Out the Middle Man

I was sitting across from our banker yesterday. Great guy; great banker. I'm sure he is great for his wife and family, as for my personality: not so much. I get a lump in my throat if anyone of any authority shows disappointment or gets upset with me. My list of who is authority is quite different than most people's opinions. By nature, I remain assertively-submissive and a well-controlled introverting-extrovert. If you think that isn't possible- you haven't met me. More importantly- you haven't been married to me or tried to raise me. I force most of the opposite personality characteristics out when I need to use them. I act the most timid around people who I know, yet do not understand.

I am not submissive when it comes to money deals. I bought our first house, I bought my car. In fact when I bought my car I researched every single part of that car the night before I went in and bought it, I ended up knowing more than the dealer knew about the car and he was asking me about the car design, make and model. I looked up Kelly Blue Book and some other information on what I should ask for with the car. Going in, I knew what price would make the dealership their money, but would also be what the car was actually worth. When we got to the point in the sale when the salesman shakes his head and excuses himself to go "run it by his boss", I told him- there would be no need and to call his boss in on the intercom so they could talk in front of me. After all, "what did they have to hide?" I asked them. I told them that I understood that they had to make a profit and I understood how it all worked so walking out of the room to talk behind my back would send me to a "stand and a walk out the door". It's odd when I am able to put on my big girl pants versus those times all I can find is a pair of pee pants in the corner...filled with the intimidation of those people I am close to and around daily. Now here we are up to our eyeballs and ready to build this house and I can't stand the business end of it all. When I look at some bankers, salesmen, or insurance and loan officers, I wonder- "how do you sleep at night?" I mean that job is fine for people who are able to look past the human they are talking to. I find my life terrifying in knowing that if someone were to ask to the right question I would answer it straight. Gogh. I like that it means I'm honest, but it is painful to live at times and worse to watch. Honesty and "Queen of Jerkville" ride a fine line. Now we need to "look good" on paper. We need to appear to "have it all together" and to promise to "have it all together" for 30 more years or however it takes to pay back the loan.  So I need to find a job. I started to think about who would be hiring- who I wouldn't sell my soul to the devil to work for and that is when I came to the conclusion that I am quite possibly up the river without a paddle in Macomb, IL. I started to get a bit enraged at the cost of child care and how there is no system set up to protect the person in a family who is going from primary caretaker of child to full-time worker. I say this because I could work a full time job and turn around and hand that money right back to a child care provider. This is nuts. This of course sent my mind into a sociology issue. It is a circular debate that can be run back to the beginning every time.

As women, we get forced to work when we are not ready; when our babies are too small. Some of us are forced to stay at home due to the cost income ratio of childcare due to said job would usually cancel out any job a new mother would or could have. Then there are some of us who are criticized for needing to go straight back to work after our children are born- "we know our children are in great hands and they will never doubt my love for them: it is about the quality of time I spend with them and not the quantity"- kind of women. We have the "I am so blessed to be able to stay at home with my children and spend these rare and fleeting moments with them, I couldn't bare to let someone else mold and shape who my child is going to become"- kind of women. We have the "If I hear one more stay at home mother complain about being a stay at home mother...I think I will die a  little more inside"- kind of mother. We have the "If I hear one more working mother complain about her ability to escape this chaos only to talk to adults, eat all the food on her own plate, and make money without getting poop on her hands the entire day... I am going to slap somebody- and it will most likely be my husband!" We have the mothers who do the insane job where they stay at home and work a separate job while taking care of their children, these "I can't pay for childcare (for some reason x,y,or z), so I work from home. I thought I would be more structured than this- I would work during nap times- or give them projects and distractions, so now I get the work in when I can and usually means when they go to bed" There are the mothers who can work at home while watching their children and other people's children as well. It seems like God only made that role for the insanely patient. These are the "I figured I needed income and childcare was too high, so I created a licensed childcare out of my home. Now I can make money and watch my kids as well. I have to admit I do feel a bit trapped at times, but so is the life of a woman right?"

Oh but as we all complain I am missing so many more roles. There are so many dynamics to this complex system of being able to make ends meet, but it is a system that seems to block our attempt to move in any direction. When thinking about going back to work I have this visualization- Have any of you ever had and older sibling or cousin or just a bully simply put his/her palm on your forehead when you are so enraged and ready to charge? You have suddenly worked up enough energy and passion to fight for what you want and this larger person with longer arms put their hand on your forehead and locks his/her arm at their elbow. You are swinging passionately trying to make contact with that person but your little arms just won't reach because his/her arm is longer and stronger and locked. In this position kids (we) often give up. I figured out as a child there IS a way out of it. If you ever find yourself in this situation in real life or metaphorically then quickly drop and squat. You are no longer in contact with what obstacle for a quick moment and if you can remain clear you can either go for his legs or save up your energy for a better passion. Run on, I suggest. As a new and recent twist to my escape in that trap- dropping to a squat turned into a metaphorical drop to my knees and pray. I have finally figured out that I can't do it on my own. I need help to figure this all out. Like a beggar, I ask everyone around me what I should do, "Should I work this, give up this, should we not build the house....what should we do, what should we do?" But, like someone who finally gets it, I was asking the wrong people. "Dear God, I began...."

Casting Crowns - American Dream

"American Dream"


All work no play may have made Jack a dull boy

But all work no God has left Jack with a lost soul

But he's moving on full steam

He's chasing the American dream

And he's gonna give his family the finer things



Not this time son I've no time to waste
Maybe tomorrow we'll have time to play

And then he slips into his new BMW

And drives farther and farther and farther away

So He works all day and tries to sleep at night

He says things will get better;

Better in time



And he works and he builds with his own two hands

And he pours all he has in a castle made with sand

But the wind and the rain are comin' crashing in

Time will tell just how long his kingdom stands

His kingdom stands



His American Dream is beginning to seem

More and more like a nightmare

With every passing day

"Daddy, can you come to my game?"

"Oh Baby, please don't work late."

Another wasted weekend

And they are slipping away

'Cause he works all day and lies awake at night

He tells them things will get better

It'll just take a little more time



He used to say, "Whoever dies with the most toys wins"

But if he loses his soul, what has he gained in the end

I'll take a shack on the rock

Over a castle in the sand

Now he works all day and cries alone at night

It's not getting any better

Looks like he's running out of time


'Cause he worked and he built with his own two hands

And he poured all he had in a castle made with sand

But the wind and the rain are coming crashing in

Time will tell just how long his kingdom stands

His kingdom stands



All they really wanted was You


All they really wanted was You


All they really wanted was You

Here Jo Goes

The following was written on Wednesday, November 17 th. 2010:
I'm leaving tomorrow for a faith retreat called Tres Dias (three days with God). I'm excited in that horribly terrified and nauseous kind of way. My sister-in-law and brother- in- law have been involved in this retreat for quite some time now. Every year they ask their family members to go, I have been hesitant in past years due to health issues, pregnancies, having babies to take care of, and plain stubbornness. I had a hard time ever wanting to leave the boys for such a long period of time. They are both old enough now that I know they will be fine if I am gone for five days.
The house plans have appeared to become hopeful once again- but I'm not saying anymore b/c I don't want to jinx it. We made some major cut-backs in the design due to the company making major changes in the last year and we had some serious talks with the builder. So maybe all is not lost in that area...I hope.
I am feeling like this retreat will be the perfect "something" for the perfect time in my life. I keep hearing the lines of this one song in my head- "If you want to be somebody else...change your mind." Although I have also been hearing the lyrics to the Taylor Swift song "Mean" and a song by a band called Nickle Creek entitled "Doubting Thomas". I sware if it were possible to have a continual sound track to our lives I would have no problem finding the songs to fit the moments in my life. If I were able to memorize everything else the way I can memorize song lyrics after hearing them one time- I would be,.... well....brilliant.

At least I'm not denying it ;-)

Wow- I must have issues with myself. I woke up to a very vivid and clear dream of me dedicating this song to myself and then singing it, (with passion) to myself. Well, that's it, I'm officially now the enemy ;-p
Taylor Swift "Mean"
It's a song on her new CD- there isn't a video yet or as usual I would hook you up to the you tube official video.
If you have a sense of humor you could appreciate the humor in it- if you are already concerned for my sanity- well, I apologize as this will be signing my certificate to nut-ville. Remember- we are all crazy- we just don't all admit it.
BTW- I love the new CD- I highly recommend it. Well, unless you are a raging optimist and then well-
"I'm sorry your call is important to us, but all of our customer service employees are currently on the line with other customers. Please hold on the line until we are able to help you. Once again your call is important to us.....we just want to weed out the people who have serious concerns with those who are calling over petty little issues- as we know that no sane person would sit and wait for half an hour to tell us something as petty as some issues could be....right? Well, unless you have real anger issues and then I seriously hope you get my colleague as I can only hand being yelled at once a day. I only do this job because I have to for crying out loud...."
Took it too far didn't I?

How can this be?

Our house plans fell through today. We are stuck. I feel lost. I fear for my family. I feel ashamed and embarrassed. Where do we go from here? I suppose there is a fine line between wanting more for your family and wishing for the unlikely. I pray for my husband to have peace in this. I hope he understands that even with this hit we are still a family and we don't need a dream home to make that dream come true.

Favorite Things Update

Lately I have been finding new things that have added quality to my life and as I have done before- thought I would share them with my readers. Even if no one reads them it’s nice to see the things I do enjoy in writing- in case I forget!

1) Wii Just Dance 2

2) Raising Hope

3) Fixing farm equipment by myself without having to ask for help- so satisfying

4) Ripping in a straight line- (some people call it tilling- my Dad calls it "ripping" or "tearing it up") In Dad's defense, we are a no-till farm to the best of our ability. But since corn has been planted in some of the fields for a couple of years in a row and has not been altered with beans like it had before- the nutrients need to be brought back up to the surface.... So, yes, we are doing some slight tilling.

5) Garlic infused olive oil

6) Annie's organic food products (haven't found one I haven't liked yet!)

7) New, sharp, unbroken crayons

8) Dressing in a costume- you can be anyone you want- (I would think that acting must be very personally gratifying)

9) Lunch with my Grandma- by myself- no kids- no one else, just me and her and secret conversation

10) Chatting online with my brother- if that's the only way I we converse these days I will soooooooo take it. I miss him in my life in the cheesiest way. How do you say to someone- hey- “I love talking to you so much that it hurts when we don't talk”? How do you say that and not sound like an idiot? Well, I guess I just said it didn't I? I'm not sure anyone else can make me laugh harder than him. Even when we are chatting online I am laughing so hard I'm crying- Ted was watching me do it last night and chuckling at the oddness of it all. I would pay for one day of Dan singing Jewel (perfect pitch), dancing the "Danno", making up pinky and the brain lines, doing physical comedy that in my opinion is so much better than Jim Carey and mastering sarcasm. Okay maybe even picking up a piece of ham and slapping me in the face with it.

11) Sarcasm- it really stinks when people don't know that I'm being sarcastic- it's rare but it happens. When sarcasm falls through it leaves you looking terribly ignorant. But when you can be around people who are also sarcastic and share your sense of humor- it is bliss!

12) My favorite blanket in the morning when it is freezing cold and the boys run over and crawl under it on the couch if even for only a couple minutes before we have to get ready.

13) People who smile at me

14) People who say what needs to be said- when it needs to be said

15) People who stop bullies in a non-violent way (how admirable) - I don't understand how anyone can ever defend the concept that violence should be dealt with by returning violence.

16) People who stand up for others

17) The people who make the right choice when no one is watching- like returning a $20 bill to the service desk in the store, or upholding your end of a contract and not trying to find your way around it and justifying your actions, giving anonymously...

18) People who treat their friends kindly, compassionately, and build them up- and never tear them down (I personally am so very lucky in this area)

19) Honey- The boys and I have a habit of wanting a spoonful of honey in the afternoon- odd but true. There is a local guy who makes the best local honey. I've never tasted better honey.

20) My North Face jacket now that I put all of the ski patches all over it. It seemed that everyone in this town had my "lucky jacket" and it was mostly the college kids. I just wanted to be different. I also felt like wearing a North Face jacket just because it was stylish was a bit clone style. Over half the people who wear those jackets don't even do outdoor sports. I got mine because I have skied since I was 8, been a ski instructor when I was 16 until I was in my twenties, and skied in various western resorts. I love to ski. I swear I'm not a poser. So, I had to make it show. I decided to sew patches from ski resorts on my North Face jacket kind of as a statement. Pretty sure about 2% of the population will even get it. It doesn't matter though- the jacket feels better now. I love it. It once again makes the jacket my "lucky jacket" again and that's good enough for me.

It's for them- that is why- and that is my answer.

I have addressed the issue before, but with a resent conversation with my mother I feel I need to make a clarification. Or maybe I just need to say it over and over until the people I love finally get it. Many people don't like to admit when things are rough in their lives. Many people don't like to admit what they feel are their "faults"- whether others agree with those faults or not. Many people want ONLY to talk about the good, the happy, the wonderful, and the hopeful. I am not that person. I love to talk about those things when they come gracefully into my life. Yet, I will not lie about what I am and what I deal with.

There are different opinions on this reasoning. For instance, some people believe that to leave yourself open for more judgment, (in a society where many only wish to tare you down), is only asking for assumptions on who you are as a whole person....without taking anything else into account. That is a school of thought that I understand. I understand it; yet, I am prepared to deal with the judgment that my sharing may bring. I am also prepared to deal with the e-mails I get that thank me for saying the things they wish they could have the courage to say. Or that they wish they could find the words to say.... Is it odd that I don't feel embarrassed to admit my faults? Or is this whole process just an admission that I am human?


Then the there is the thought that I will never gain respectable employment due to my honesty with my life issues within this blog. I must first say- I don't go around handing out this blog address, (while I am not ignorant enough to think they cannot find it.) The type of employment I am seeking to gain is not a political official- and to be quite frank (as if I know any other) - maybe the political candidates should be as honest about themselves as I am. I am speaking and addressing moral issues. I address issues about integrity, faith, trauma, depression, conviction, regret, self-doubt, family, hopes, dreams, and the odd but true....most importantly I use my life as an example. I use my failures as examples. My entire reason for this blog isn't to preach but to leave a record for my boys about my life. I want them to know how strong and passionate my feelings were for the things I stood for. I want them to know just how imperfect I was. I want them to know how okay that really is...and I want them to know that being imperfect will still make them lovable, admirable, and most of all, I will still be most amazingly honored to be their mother. My brother once told me that making the tough choices in life- the choices that were the least favorable and the one's that may cause the most painful repercussion (no matter the certainty in their correct path)....the people who make the right choices still knowing the adversity they will face- well, that is what separates the courageous and the heroes from the rest of the people....I'm trying to make heroes here.

It isn't about me and the opinions about my frank statements...If my life is nothing else, I am a mother, and I will stand for this path even though it isn't a popular one. I am going to wear down the trail so that the boys can see where I have walked and they won't get so many dang chiggers. So that is my answer....

Don't make someone a priority if they only make you an option

I wrote this post and saved it in my drafts long ago...It was written on 11/1/2010.
I'm confused. So, I will just stand still ....right? No movement. I'm just going to fade into the wall for a moment and chill. God, I am trying to listen and open my heart and mind but I can't seem to get it right. What do you want me to do? Where do you want me? What a trying time. I am coming out of hopelessness though and into confirmation that not only will this pass, but I will be stronger for it. Stronger like all of the other times in my life when I thought I was built too weak to sustain the immense pressure. This time it flows from all of the areas of my life and I think that must mean I simply need to stand back and observe for a moment to figure out what is going on. Maybe it just is what it is. I hate that saying, but what if I simply look at the facts and add no personal judgement or emotion to the picture of my life right now? Eventually something has to give right? Hopefully for the better right? It's rocky down here on the bottom. It's hard to find a place to rest comfortably.
I wrote this a few days later: (you can tell)
Do you ever daydream about what you would have done had you not done what got you to where you are now? Okay- read it again...slower, it really will make sense if you read it slowly and process it. Well, I spent the day in the field tilling and thinking. Here was my daydream:
I was a dancer. I was a ballroom dancer- all types, but I could do all of the styles of dance, except ballet- it annoys me. But, since you can't make a living dancing, unless you are Cheryl Burke, Max C., Chelsey Hightower, or any other insanely talented dancers, I was also a writer...a published writer. The funniest part about all of it was that I was motivated and I wasn't a procrastinator. I had insane ambition. (probably because I had self-worth and satisfaction in my life). I didn't have anyone telling me that I should just get a job at McDonald's. Never mind my degree that I gave up so much to obtain. It doesn't mean anything anymore. Everyone needs a masters degree now. I think degrees should be dissolved and all hiring should be based on written and performance based testing. I know some people who have some jobs that I could do with my eyes closed and not only do they do a bad job at them- they have no passion for what they do. It makes me furious. We all have to play the system. Everything is so fake. Come to think of it every freaking thing is so fake. You know what makes people bitter?.... Disregarding their feelings, their dreams, their desires. It's the people who don't get their needs met and are consistently ignored or emotionally, physically or psychologically abused who become so bitter.

It's easy to say that it is all about attitude and personality, but you just can't be so ignorant to think that life experiences can't change a person so much to make them bitter.
In my daydream we didn't get the house loan and I was happy about it...yep crazy I know. So, I moved back home to the Aledo area near my best friend and started Grant in Aledo School District. I ran with Amber everyday. I helped her and she helped me- we were each other's saving graces. In my daydream I went to the church in Aledo that announces my birthday and anniversary even though I have never been a member there, (it's my Dad's church- and my youth group was joined with their youth group). For real- they really do! The church I go to now here in Macomb- where I was married and Ted had been a member since the early 1990's, still doesn't put our anniversary or any of our birthday's in the newsletter. I joined that church this spring and oh how I feel it was a great regret of mine. This is only one of so many things wrong with my relationship to this church.
My daydream continued with the excitement of getting to raise my kids with my best friend by my side. I had her to run with and keep me going... She would come to dancing classes with me because her and I used to dance in high school. We would pull out our guitars and practice until we could play really well. I would make all of the birthday cakes and she would make Halloween costumes....
But then I came rolling back into reality....dreadful reality. Ted won't ever leave Macomb. Maybe he will just have to visit us in Aledo:-p We are suppose to be building a house...wait- we have been trying to build this house. All signs point to pull out. The whole thing is making me not trust anyone in the world. It is become more than a family can handle and I am done dealing with a builder who changes his story every day. This family land means too much to me to be playing games. I feel like people are juggling with our livelihood and as they drop each ball they say, "oops, sorry... hope that wasn't too big of a deal!" "well, yes you inconsiderate jerk, it was a big deal, it is only our entire future. We don't have a home right now. We are giving time for the appraisal and as soon as it comes back we will make our decision. I am no longer going on good faith anymore. Everything the builder tells me will now be put into writing and then signed my him. Mama's claws are out and I am in a corner- I'm ready to pounce. That's right we all know I'm feisty- but y'all haven't seen anything yet!

Thank You Judy

Thank you Judy for telling me to go for a walk and that you had the boys covered, no questions asked. I didn't have to ask or plan or arrange to refuel in the only way my body and mind have ever really been able to recover. It has been months since I have had the chance. She will never know the gift she gave me and I know I will never forget it.
It makes me think about this odd situation that occurred while at the in-laws the other day. Grant, Jake and I went down to the creek with a bucket and a small net to catch minnows. A young girl rides up to us and asks if she can help. I knew from the get go that she was off- her body language didn't match her apparent age. Grant and Jake accepted her in immediately as I guess I always taught them to do. It was a time I wish I had not. As I took a step back I watched the three in action. Grant is amazing at catching anything. He knows how to sit patiently and wait for the perfect time. He was watching the pattern and the path that the minnows were following. He picked a spot right in the middle of their path low to the creek where he could keep his feet stable. Just as the minnows began their path back to Grant's location this little girl grabbed the net out of Jake's hand and ran down the bank and smacked the water. Grant tilted his head to the side, (I'm still not sure Grant understands the concept that people would do things to people just for the sake of pure mean intention), Jake then yells, "Did you catch them!?" And this little girl with such practiced ease, lied quicker than your last breath, "yep, all of them!" So even though Grant is confused, he dislodges his secure location to go see. Just then I watch as the minnows fly past. It hit me as she grabbed the net her intentions where not good. Then when I saw her simply smack the water and claim she now had all of the minnows enough to distract Grant from his spot, it was clear what her intentions were. Quite skilled at manipulation and lying this one 7 year old child seemed to be.
I still let Grant handle the situation for a bit longer. He runs up to the girl but she already is heading back to his perfect waiting location where he has just dislodged himself from. "Let me see them!" Grant begs! "Na." the girl replies. "But why not?" Grant asks as the beginnings of tears form in his eyes, so I said, "She won't show them to you Grant because she never caught any. She was trying to steal your spot. She saw you had found the perfect spot to find the minnows and figured a way to get you out. Isn't that right young lady?" She looked at me for only a second- she showed no expression, regret, remorse, nothing....she just continued on. So I walked over and asked for our net back. She wanted to know why I needed it. I told her that my boys and I came to the creek to spend time together catching minnows, fish, or frogs, and we needed our net. She asked if she could help. I said it would help if she just watched. Inside of a giant culvert that went under the street, Grant and I watched an actual fish swim slowly along. We both sensed the same urgency and stepped into the knee high water with the net. We ignored the jumping frogs and netted out the fish. It was one of those moments where you think to yourself, "I am going to remember this!" Grant and I were giggling and Jake was standing on the banks laughing and jumping up and down. These are the things I want to be doing with my boys. So we climb out of the culvert and onto the side of the street to get a better look at the fish. It was certainly a fish that didn't belong in the creek. I think it was a bluegill...but it was hard to tell because he was covered in contaminates. I told the boys we needed to get the fish back to Grandma and Grandpa's to clean it up so it could breathe better. The girl tells us she is going to follow us. I roll my eyes to myself. Jake says, "yeah, come on!" We get up to the house and fill a bucket with fresh water and put our new fish inside. I gently cleaned him off with my hands and saw that he had a scratch on his side. I made sure the wound was clean, but was not very hopeful for the fish. However, the longer the fish was in the bucket the more he swam around and the faster he began to move. He started to feel better as you could clearly see. He needed out of the contaminated city creek water if he was ever going to survive. I was a bit hopeful after he ate some bread crumbs and when the boys brought him worms he nibbled on the little fishing worms. Soon after I told the boys that we needed to go inside for supper because the girl just would not leave and she had begun to wander around the yard. Then she said, I can come in too! "No, no you can't because this is not MY home and I can't invite people into someone else's home." She never quit asking and I'm sure the boys were shocked as I basically just left her outside and shoved him inside. I thought that would be enough to make her leave. Apparently, Grant was watching her from the window and he told Jake and I that she left and then came back, took our fish out of the bucket and ran away. I was furious! I grabbed Jake who was instantly crying and Grant and we walked onto the front porch. I waited until I saw her again coming from the yard of the little boy who lived two houses down. Then she tried to run off. I was so mad. I yelled, "HEY, YOUNG LADY, GET OVER HERE! She slowly walked over holding a limp fish.
"DO YOU LIVE HERE?"
" no."
"WAS THAT YOUR FISH?"
"no."
" DID WE GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO TAKE THE FISH?"
"no, but...."
"YOU BETTER HAVE A VERY GOOD REASON BECAUSE THAT FISH IS OBVIOUSLY DEAD NOW AND IT WAS ALIVE WHEN IT LEFT HERE. MY SON IS CRYING HIS EYES OUT AND YOU, WELL YOU BETTER HAVE A VERY GOOD REASON."
"i....i....i....was just going to show people our fish."
"OUR FISH?"
"your fish."
"YOU NEED TO LEAVE THIS PROPERTY AND DO NOT GO INTO ANYBODY ELSE'S YARDS TO TAKE THINGS THAT ARE NOT YOURS WITHOUT PERMISSION EVER AGAIN...DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"
"NOW HAND ME THE FISH."
The girl gave me the fish and it was covered in sawdust with tiny pieces of wood sticking out of its body and its eyes. Then Grant was more upset and it had to be buried right then. I don't remember the last time I was so angry at a child that knew better then when another child asked to see Grant's prized grasshopper. The grasshopper he had chased around all day and was so excited to show his friend. His friend grabbed it and scrunched his hand into a fist and killed it right in front of Grant! Oh how that anger made my heart bleed. My sons pain for that particular incident was unforgettable to him.
So right before the fish was buried, (I think Grandpa Rick ended up doing it), I looked at it first and felt a bond with it that made me want to vomit.
This wounded fish covered in contamination was pulled from a contaminated creek and cleaned as best as it could be cleaned. He was injured but had a chance to recover. Then someone who had no connection to this healing fish came and selfishly stole it from its healing grounds. The fish was helpless. The fist no longer had a chance because the interfering force didn't see the fish as a living, breathing thing, they saw it as something to use, to own, to make that force appear stronger. The the fish was so battered in such a short period of time with no one there to protect it....it died. What was already weakened, couldn't fight anymore.
Some kids are sick-emotionally and sick-psychologically. We fear for them and pray for their recovery.
What happens when those sick kids grow into adults and are still doing the same things they were as children, but now on a grander scale. They crush dreams, steal hope, burn down your courage, and tear apart your will?
But then, in rare moments, comes along a walking, talking angel who may not know it but by saying or doing that one thing that may have changed everything! "Your turn Jo, go for a walk, we have the boys." I didn't have to arrange, plan ahead, beg, make excuses or anything to get what that fish from the creek needed when we pulled him out and put him into his safe, new and clean water. A chance to feel alive and renewed once again.

Metaphorical Dilemma Conversation

I need my cup refilled. Where is that metaphorical waiter when you need him?
I need the light at the end of the tunnel re-lit!
I need to find "it" so I can let her go- I didn't know I had her in my possession!
I'm not a control freak I just can't handle the thought of someone controlling me, so I take the first step!
I can't just give "it" to God- when I never really "had 'it' or created 'it' in the first place"; "it" wasn't mine to give. Also why would I want to give God such a piece of poo?
That's were my mind has been all morning- thus how productive I have been.

Sitting still...at a job?

Part of this job working with my Dad is to hurry up and wait. I always feel like I shouldn't be paid to sit around and wait for the next truck, even if it is part of the job. I'm not used to sitting around doing nothing- which is why I brought my computer to work. I figured I could work on some writing and health projects I have been working on.
I do an awful lot of sitting and then when the work comes it is supercharged, fast and secretly insanely terrifying work. Yes, this comes from the girl who isn't afraid of driving fast, heights, sudden life changes, trying new things, public speaking, bugs, worms and other creatures....but I am terrified I am going to do something wrong here and ruin my father's dream. I'm terrified to disappoint people. It makes me think about the first blood draw I had to do on someone in the ER after I learned. I was good at it. I felt confident. They said, I hate these, please say you know what you are doing, I did know what I was doing, but how could I tell that person that he was my first real patient. "Oh don't you worry- I've got this hun, just look the other way if this sort of thing bothers you, it will be over in a flash..." Oh, how my heart was pounding. Needle straight in perfect blood draw, he never even felt it...sweet.
My Dad has never wanted to do anything else with his life and has always known that he would be farming. He went to college and then got his masters and then came a few credits shy of his doctorate, all while still farming. He is the most technologically driven farmer I ever knew existed.
I know companies farm with such technology. But some don't even think of the things Dad comes up with. I sit here and listen to him talk to the electrician/engineer (the human computer) and he designs these ways to make this whole farming production faster, easier, less dependent on outside resources....just anything and everything I or others would have never thought of trying.
Right now Grandpa Jake is looking down on him and taking notes. I don't know why he would be taking notes in heaven, he was just that way. If there was a piece of new information the man had to have it....just like Dad. It makes me think about true intelligence. While I have always known my father was brilliant, he hasn't. And while I always knew my Grandfather was brilliant, he never believed it. Dad was a C average student with a straight A capability. He just wanted to farm and back then....he didn't think he needed to go to school to farm. He has always said that when Grandma and Grandpa Reinhardt got him his truck it was the only thing that kept him in school. I look at him now and see brilliance. Grandpa Melton never went on past 9th grade. He stopped school to help on the family farm. He was always disappointed that he never continued his education. In the end, Grandpa had taught himself through life and self-discipline so much more than any of the highest degrees could have ever taught him. He never stopped learning. He loved knowledge. He was passionate about it. I see that in my Dad. It find that interesting that Mom fell in love with someone so similar in so many ways to her father. Don't get me wrong though, they are also very different. Grandpa was a talker. Dad isn't. Dad can't sit still through the winter so he works a job in the winter with worse hours than farming. Grandpa was able to kick back in his chair when he needed to rest. Grandpa spoke his mind (he did it with respect- unlike me). Dad lets it eat at him from the inside out. Grandpa was skinny during harvest and heavy during the winter. Dad is skinny all of the time. The one thing that oddly sticks out in my mind that is strikingly similar to both my Grandpa and my Dad are their displays of affection for their wives. Never have my parents found a place inappropriate for a kiss, hug or hand holding. I always noticed it. I loved it. Grandpa always called Grandma, "Honeybuns" and would give her behind a little swat when she was doing the dishes and a kiss on her cheek....Oh how she would kill me if she knew that I wrote this for the world to see. He always told her he loved her, hugged her, kissed her, and in the end he turned his last glance to her. I know it has nothing to do with farming, but maybe it has something to do with who I am.
Anyway, back to intelligence....I will always believe that the smartest people are the ones who, when they don't have the answers, know how to seek the answers out. Sounds simple right? Nope. For example, I once had a doctor I thought was a total jerk because he obviously didn't have the answers, nobody had them at the time, but he made them up to try and look as if he knew what he was talking about. I never went back. All he would have had to say was "I don't know the answer, but I will find out for you and get back to you right away. And if I can't I will find someone who knows the answer for you." That would be someone who was incredibly intelligent! Who knows all of the answers? If you think you do, then you don't know all of the answers do you....?
My Dad would be on the the front cover of any book I wrote on this subject. It isn't as if he goes around saying, "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know..." I finally figured out why he is so quiet. He is figuring out how he will find out. Or he is looking for the perfect answer in the billions of files residing inside his brain. Or well, he is cussing you out silently. Just kidding....or am I?

So, I sit here with too much power in my hands to ruin it all and not enough information to feel like I can keep it from crumbling. Mom and Dad obviously feel confident that I know what I am doing or they wouldn't have put me in such a place. So I thought today that I would do what all people should do when they don't know the answer. PANIC! Na.... I decided to ask more questions. There was only one problem with that. How do you ask questions to someone who doesn't talk? Good thing I figured out how to read most of Dad's mind in the years since Grandpa died. Until then I had never given my Dad a fair chance. I had never tried to really get to know him. I was a jerk. He came in to our lives like a knight in shining armor when I was about six. He married Mom when I was 11 and then adopted Dan and I to then show we are his children- no questions asked...and he had never been anything other than a great father. Yet, I had already been raised with Grandpa Jake. I had this attachment to him. I had that role filled. It was unfair to Dad. As an adult I feel terrible for not allowing him into my life further. When I did let Dad in, I realized how much I understood him, how much I enjoyed being around him- and most importantly how much he has always loved me. I can't go back to change the past. But, looking into my future- I know I can see our relationship only growing more solid. I know Dad doesn't have the time to read my blog, but if you ever read this Dad- I know I tell you this a lot, but, I really love you, all you have done for me, and for everything you are.

Healthnut drinking Mt. Dew like water says what?

Dear Mt. Dew my love,

Considering the recent kidney stone approaching. I feel as if I must tell you that our time together was oh so sweet, energizing and refreshing, but has run out. Oh Mt. Dew, why must you taste so good? You have given me the energy throughout the years to stay awake and deal with the sleepless nights that raising two boys caused. Your green plastic bottle was a wonderful toy for Grant as a baby and he learned to call you "mommy's milk" before he could say many other things. I still wonder if that constant green color of your emerald glow is what drew Grant to love the color green and all things that are green. I remember the first time Grant stole my can full of you and stood right in front of me to drink your sweetness. I was so mad. I told him that you were mine. I remember asking the doctor when I was pregnant with Jake how many can's of your sweetness I could have a day. I was allowed one. Oh, how I desperately wanted more. When Jake was old enough to run he too began to steal my cans of mt dew. Unlike Grant who stood in front of me to taste your wonderful sweet taste, he ran, holding you in his hand and you spilled all over the floor as he ran. I couldn't help but laugh at his desperation to get to you, as I have felt the same at times. I don't know how I am going to make it without you.... but, I will simply have to try. I must move on. The pain that you can cause to my kidney's is unbearable. You must understand that I never meant to hurt you my sweet and bubbly goodness, I was just too selfish and wanted you all to myself. You can't honestly say that you and I are really all that good together. You make my heart skip beats, you give me sleepless nights, you make me shake and cause my stomach to burn. Love shouldn't hurt so bad. And you know how I feel about that yellow food dye you always insisted I accept into this relationship. I must thank you though for your help when I needed it and for some odd reason not giving me cavities even though I often kept you by my bedside. Guess my genetics and my non-Appalachian heritage has helped in that area. I know what you have done to those poor people. I tried to pretend I didn't notice those toothless smiles, but I did mt. dew.....i did.

Kidney Stone

As I sit here at my Dad's elevator waiting for the first grain truck to come through, (and it could be up to another hour), I will have to find something to occupy myself with. The unfortunate reminder of this physical pain I have been having lately is overwhelming my mind. The feelings of pain are getting closer and closer and this morning it dawned on me that it feels an awful lot like the beginnings of a kidney stone! Forgive me while I cuss...SH**! If you have ever had a kidney stone you feel like a pansy for any other time you complained about pain in your life, including labor. I have had two before. I feel like I am sitting here waiting to be shot. I am downing water and cranberry juice like I never have before. I am terrified. Seriously terrified. Another problem with kidney stones are that there is nothing doctors will do about them. If you get them on the weekend, which I have been so very lucky to have always done....they basically say over the phone...drink lots of water and cranberry juice. Then they will possibly prescribe you a antibiotic to ward off the possible infection caused by the stone scratching the urethra wall thus allowing bacteria to also invade. So then on top of a kidney stone you get a urinary tract infection which also happened to me both of the other times. Maybe other doctor's offices are nicer than ours....wait, I know other doctor's offices are nicer than ours. When the pain gets really bad I want someone to tranquilize me. Lord help me that I don't get stranded here at the elevator today with the kidney stone getting to the worst part. It happens suddenly and you can't do anything to stop it. I believe in emergency protocols. So as I sat here this morning I decided that if I get to that point I will simply call Mom and Dad and tell them I have to leave and then drive myself to the Monmouth urgent care. The worst part follows. The Monmouth Urgent Care Waiting Room is insanely full on the weekend. So I would have to wait forever to see the doctor anyway, even then I am not even sure those doctor's would do much of anything either. You just feel a fit of desperation when it hits and you have to do anything....anything you can to make it stop. Ok, I have to go pray for the rest of the day. Maybe you could pray for me too. I know any of you who have had a kidney stone.... already started praying without me having to tell you...

Just a blerb

I'm feeling the effects of the constant working so I think my blog will suffer tonight. I just wanted to mention some thoughts on today. I have to get up and work at my Dad's grain elevator tomorrow. I'm thinking about starting Dad's documentary tomorrow as well, we will see how well his workers behave ;-p
Today was my very first field trip as a mother. It was Grant's very first field trip as a kindergartner. One of the Mom's, who I rode to the pumpkin farm with, often said the things that I was either thinking or that I was in the process of verbalizing. Funny how antisocial me can find people that are so cool even when I shut myself off from the world most of the time. The comment that stuck with me was the one about dreading things before she got to them and not wanting to go, but when she got there she was always fine and ended up having a good time. Perfectly said my dear Matsey, perfectly said! I was glad to have had the chance to ride with the Mom's I rode with. I understand my personality doesn't always click with everyone's....ok I won't continue with that comment.
But I had a great time learning about these women and admiring them for who they are.
Mrs. Bear put me in charge of Grant, his best friend Massimo and another little boy who had an Armenian accent. So I had three crazy boys :-) and Two rockin' accents! Massimo is adorable and I can so how Grant and him are best friends. They walk around holding hands. I am not allowed to hug him in public but he can hold hands with his best friend. Little stinker. That's fine Grant I won't tell anyone how you still have to run your fingers through Mommy's hair to fall asleep when you have had a tough day. Opps! Did I tell it already, hehehe! Italians express love and emotion better than American in my opinion and I have always tried to help Grant realize that it is okay to express love and emotions. So I am wondering if he and Massimo are similar for that reason as well, that and their "crazy-optimistic- bright- eyed- take- on- the- world- and- ask- all-the- questions- because -I -have- to -know -it -all" type of personality. They are great. I felt like I got the greatest group of kids! At one point Massimo was talking about the Veggie Tales Pirate Movie and I started to whisper sing "We are the pirates who don't do anything...." His eyes got ever bigger and he said- "You like the Veggie Tales Too?!" Another little girl came up to me and asked if I was Grant's Mommy and I said "Yes...is that a good thing?" and she replied, "OH YES! And you are so prreeeeetttyyy!" I can't tell you how impressed I am with how well Mrs. Bear runs her class and with as many students as she has! I am also impressed with who she is as a person. She is the best possible teacher Grant could have had and I genuially feel blessed.
So, even though I dreaded the social aspect of the day. I made it, and not only made it, I enjoyed it. Jake got to play at his Tiffy's house and cried for only and hour when we left! I guess that means he had a good time and needed a nap.
Tomorrow the boys get to play on big Grant's playground because my friend Shannon is watching them while I work at the elevator. As a joke I plan on writing up a long list of rules and guidelines for her to follow to see the look on her face. Ahhhh, the time I take to screw around with Shannon. It is so worth my effort. Right now I am getting ready to wrap up a box of ground flax seed with wrapping paper and a bow b/c she always makes fun of me for being a health nut. I will give it to her and run before she has a chance to throw the box at me! MUUUUHHHHAHHAHAHAHAHAH! Oh, how I love tormenting her.
Well, off to evil things ;-p

"Penny" From Heaven

I heard this evening that the woman who taught me how to swim when I was a small child was killed on Saturday. The thing is that Penny was amazing. I can remember her beautiful face smiling at me when I was terrified to get into the water. I remember her hair, her eyes, her voice, her hands. Why is it that we remember some things in life so clearly and others fade away as quickly as they occur? Mom was going to WIU and sitting outside the pool to study. At one point, I was flailing around and basically fighting the idea of getting into the water and I swung my arm and hit her in the face. Mom remembers being horrified and Penny calmly told her that it was okay and that it happens. She remained calm. I don't think she was ever angry with either me or my brother during any of the swimming lessons or swimming adventures we had at the Aledo Public Pool. I cried when Mom told me because the last thing that I heard in my head when Mom said that she had died was an echo, almost like a movie flashback....
Penny's soft and encouraging voice says: "I've got you Turtle...don't worry, I won't let you go...." Mom was sitting on a bench on the other side of the chain-link fence and had a thick college text book on her lap. I think my swimming suit was white with swirls of colors all over it but mainly purple and red swirls. It was a one-piece swimming suit and I hated it. I was too long waisted for it. I was facing northeast and Penny was holding me tight with her arms under my armpits and her hands around my back. She was facing me. I think her swimming suit was black. Her hair was really long and beautiful. She was looking at me deep into my eyes with a promise and a confidence in me that I didn't know was even there yet. How could she see something that I didn't know I had? I don't think Dan and I would have ever been such good swimmers without Penny. Dan is amazing. He is fearless and always has been. You should have seen him on the diving board. We can thank Penny.
When Grant was traumatized by his swimming teacher because he said "please don't let me go, please don't let me go....!" and she said, "Oh, I won't!" then proceeded to take him to the middle of the pool and push him away and let go (in the only way I can rationalize it) to attempt to show him he could do it on his own....I about lunged into the water and smacked that teacher. Yep, I said that. Thank you swimming teacher for breaking my sons trust and therefore making him terrified of water thereafter. (NOT!) I can't tell you how may times I thought of Penny when we were struggling with Grant. He refused to get into the water so many times. One time he flat out ran from the pool, through the locker room straight to the car in only his swimming trunks with me trying to keep up!
We go about our lives after all the people who have molded us move on without knowing how much they affected our lives. I can't tell you how many times I think to myself, thank God I learned how to swim the right way and from such a great teacher. I remembered Penny all these years and to hear of her death was devastating. Yet, somehow the movie like echo of her voice that will forever play in my head will always be my Penny from heaven: "I've got you Turtle....don't worry....I won't let you go!"
Some people come into our lives for only a moment and change it forever.
Thank You Beautiful Penny.
October 4, 2010--A former Aledo woman has died following a head-on

collision in Warren County. 50 year old Penny McKinney-Green of Moline

was killed Saturday morning (October 2nd). Her sister, 55 year old

Mary Ann McKinney of Aledo was a passenger in the pick-up truck and

was injured. She was taken to Cottage Hospital in Galesburg. An

Illinois State Police news release indicates that the sisters were

traveling east bound on Illinois Route 116 near Roseville when a west

bound vehicle crossed the center line and collided with their truck.

The other driver, a 21 year old Macomb man was ticketed for driving

too fast for conditions. He told troopers he lost control due due to

wet pavement. All five occupants of the other car received only minor

injuries.

Topics Coming Soon:

Bullying
Cold/ Flu prevention at our house
Why I'm writing the blog
Accountability
Simplicity
Walk the Talk
The Children's Sermon Jack gave
What moves me
The evolution of family
Our twists on things: biting the bedbugs and dicombobulations with the whatnots
My Dad's farming Operation- Reinhardt Farms
Darren and I- Birthday makes me think of him
Oct. 9th Catie and my wet towels, her cookie dough, and our 9/11 tears-B-day makes me think of her
November! Amber- B-day coming up too
Nov. 21st Grandma- B-day reminds me of how blessed I am to have her in my life
Oct. 17th Jim- B-day reminds me of the evolution of my biggest "Pseudo-Brother"
Livestock and the only real thing about the farm Ted and I disagree about
God's placement of people on our lives
What I feel God "does" or "doesn't do"
Cigarettes, Alcohol and Texting/ cell phones
My newest list of favorite things
The status of our home that is in the prossess of being built
Health nut drinking mountain dew like water says what?
Anything else I should talk about hummmmmm? I'll think about it.

Dear Jo

Dear Jo,
I owe you an apology. We need to talk. I have let you down. I made you believe that your pain in this life and the trauma you endured made you less of a person. I lied to you. So now you have forgotten how strong you are. You are looking to others to tell you of the strength you so desperately want to have. Think of everything you have been through. They don't know about it all, and you can't blame them. But that's what makes you beautiful, show your true colors because they are beautiful like a rainbow... You can finally say it and you can finally believe it, you owe it to yourself after all, it has been 30 years of self-hate, time to realize that you are beautiful inside. I'm sorry I never told you enough. I'm sorry you gave your strength a second thought even for one second...Forgive me and we can conquer it all.
With love and grace,
Jo

This is the song I dedicate to you. Yet, not only to you, but to everyone who is holding themselves back from the things they fear. God never said standing for the things that were right would be without pain or suffering. But, as you lay down to sleep tonight be happy to know you can live with your desicions. I am proud of you.

You with the sad eyes


Don't be discouraged

Oh, I realize

It's hard to take courage

In a world full of people

You can lose sight of it all

And darkness still inside you

Make you feel so small

But I see your true colors

Shining through

I see your true colors

And that's why I love you

So don't be afraid to let them show

Your true colors,

True colors, are beautiful,

Like a rainbow.
(Ah ah ah...)

Show me a smile then,

Don't be unhappy,

Can't remember when I last saw you laughing

If this world makes you crazy

And you've taken all you can bear

You call me up

Because you know I'll be there

And I see your true colors

Shining through

I see your true colors

And that's why I love you

So don't be afraid to let them show

Your true colors,

True colors, are beautiful,

Like a rainbow

Ah ah ah ah...

Spoken: Can't remember when I last saw you laughing

If this world makes you crazy

You've taken all you can bear

You call me up (Call me up! )

Because you know I'll be there (Know I'll be there)

And I'll see your true colors

Shining through (I see them shining through! )

I see your true colors

And that's why I love you (That's why I love you! )

So don't be afraid (Afraid) to let them show

Your true colors, true colors

I see your true colors shining through (Yeah! )

I see your true colors

And that's why I love you

So don't be afraid (Afraid) to let them show

Your true colors

True colors, true colors

True colors, are beautiful,

Like a rainbow

Blueberries-Reminding myself again

I wrote and published this to my blog some time ago. I was just thinking about it. I was contemplating the message I wrote to myself and my kids- as all these entries really are anyway. Someday I will push the publish blog button and have the company put my blog into a hardback book for the boys. Yet, today I needed this message again. I needed a refresher; a reminder. I actually like this piece. I like how I started to write with no real intentions and no idea of what the next sentence or even the next word would be for that matter. It all came flowing from my heart. It came from that special place that helps you when you doubt yourself....that strong part that hides from you and pretends it doesn't exist. Whatever it was I wanted to read it again. I wanted to print it again. So here it is.

Have you ever picked blueberries? Have you ever seen the crazy parallels blueberries have to our lives?.... yes, I did say blueberries! OK sit back and let your mind think less literally and more symbolically for a moment:
There is a giant blueberry patch out there. You begin to walk down each aisle trying to find the best place for you to settle down and harvest blueberries. The first one you are drawn to seems too small so you move onward. The second one you are drawn to is filled with too many unripe berries, so you keep moving. The third one you are drawn to looks perfect and as you set down your bucket to pick those perfect blueberries, you realize that the whole backside of the plant is filled with a web and rotting berries. No one wants to stick their hand through a web to pull out the berries so they turn bad before they can be harvested. You are tempted to stay, but you move on anyway. The next bush you are drawn to is perfect. It is filled with clumps of ripe berries. The bush is currently in the shade while the others were being scorched by the 93 degree sun. The time is now. You set down your bucket, sit on your knees and begin to grab the clumps of ripe berries this bush has to offer. You learn your first lesson. As you were grabbing all of the largest clumps of berries, pulling off your best berries, and tossing them into the bucket to see that among those clusters of beautiful ripe berries there were tiny, unripened, berries that had now been also picked too early. You thought you were grabbing the best so you quickly grabbed without looking, and now those little berries won't have a chance to grow. Your first lesson was this:
Don't ever let your carelessness halt the growth of another.
You continued to pick your berries with more hesitance and grace than before to make sure that you didn't make a mistake like the last one. Instead of grabbing and pulling the berries off by clumps, you begin to pull them off a few at a time and holding them inside your hands until your hands are so full you must empty them into the bucket. This seemed to be working when on the third attempt your arm hits a branch and you fall backwards. You instinctively reach out to catch yourself from falling when all of your blueberries in both hands fall into the tall grass below. Your first thought is frustration at all the work that went to waste, then your second thought is all the blueberries that hit the ground would be impossible to find and that you must just move on without them. Those blueberries will have to be wasted.
You learned your second lesson:
Don't ever overfill your hands so much that you are not able to handle the load carefully. My Grandfather, whom I used to get to pick blueberries with, used to tell me that one should choose a couple of things to do. Do them well-better than to try and carry "too many loads" and do a poor job at all of the things one is attempting.
So you continue to pick your blueberries with even more hesitance and grace with growing wisdom. Things are making more sense and starting to flow with ease like the ease that comes with age.
As you continue to pick the berries careful to not overfill your hands you pop one into your mouth because it seems to look like the most delicious berry you have seen yet. The bitterness fills your mouth as you wish you could just spit it back out on the ground. You swallow your mistake and try and figure out the reason why the most visually perfect berry had the most bitter taste. The thought consumes you and you are drawn back to the thought of the bushes you had past in the very beginning when you were trying to find your first bush. You were quick to judge. You begin to walk backwards, the first bush you come to is the bush with the webs and rotten berries on the one side, yet all the perfect berries on the other side. You grab a berry and taste the sweet and sour taste of the blueberry. There were wonderful berries this bush had to offer, just because the one side was less than desirable, it did not determine the glory of the berries on the other side.
You learn your next lesson:
We are quick to judge a place, group, person, etc. by the visual ascetic's it has to offer, but will it be bitter and will we wish we could just spit and run once we realize it? Will we have passed up the valuable people, places, groups, etc, in our lives because they didn't "look" like what we thought we wanted? If we go back and accept them for their individual flaws, will we find the beauty they hold for us and the world?
You think about the bush you passed before the last one. The unripe berries may have seemed unusable to you so you walked past them. You looked down and the weeds around the roots of the bush were overgrown. You reached down and pulled the weeds out by your hands, so that they could get more of the water and nutrients that they needed to grow. While they had no berries to offer, they could teach you something.
You learned your next lesson:
There are people we pass in our lives that are underdeveloped: (children, uneducated, poor, ailing, loss of faith), while we may feel as if there is nothing we can do, maybe there is. In this case you lifted them up. You gave them nutrients to ripen.
Finally you decide that you must go back to the very first bush you past as you entered the blueberry patch. It was "too small" you thought and you didn't even try to see if it had berries to offer. As you approach the bush you see more berries than any of the other bushes. They are ripe and healthy. It is bountiful and ready to be harvested. There was nothing wrong with this bush except for your judgement of its size.
Here is you last and final lesson:
When we start out in our lives, we think we know what we are aiming for. We want something huge and grand. We want something like a masterpiece. All the small things in our paths seem too little for our attention. We keep walking past and learn through our mistakes that we don't belong where we are going and that our place is really the one we past up long ago. We thought we were going somewhere else. We come back to this "smaller" place of belonging and achievement and find that it has the most beautiful, bountiful, sweet, and glorious gifts to offer. This place, this bush, was meant to be ours all along. We are meant to be right here. It isn't that we shouldn't keep an eye on the other bushes and the health and bounty of our own, but we cannot eliminate the simplicity of the idea that our glory could be right here and right now in this tiny little bush.

What exhaustion does to Jo- If you want optimism DON'T LOOK HERE!

Too much pressure on the inside
all of the time....
This misery of mine
Makes me want to hide
Somethings gotta give....
Something will have to slide.
1st job, 2nd job, 3rd job?
And what are these crazy hours I keep?
every moment of the day scheduled out
even these moments needed for sleep.
When does it stop?
When can you see I am going to break?
Do you feel better now as I fell
down to the pits of despair?
And as I climb out of here
out of these depths of hell...
Will you reach for my hand and pull me on up
or will you turn your back on me-
while drinking pride from that cup?
Will you watch your flaming words?
I'm more fragile than a balancing act-
10,000 stories high.
What seems so small an innocent -
can make a grown woman cry.

BLAH! BTW- No it isn't a requirement that people be happy all the time or be happy just because you desperately imply they do so....Did you know that the more you push someone to be happy when they are not, makes them more resistant and often leads them to feel worse when the guilt sets in.
When my five year old son cries and gets embarrassed for doing so, I say to him, "don't feel ashamed for feeling those feelings honey, what you feel is real. Let it come right thru you and out to the other side. Sometimes crying gets all of the mad and the sad out." So forgive me please while I feel what I feel as it is real. I have to let it come right thru me to the other side. In doing so, I may say these words and they may seem harsh, but they are real and I need to get all of my mad and sad out.

The risk could simply not be worth the possible misinterpretation of my intent.

I don't understand how some people can't see who I am. I don't hide much of anything. I'm upfront and I wear my heart on my sleeve. My intentions are not to hurt anyone ever, I don't get enjoyment out of other people suffering. I don't find enjoyment in conflict. I can't stand to even hurt a bug. I find hunting to be a painful truth in my family, but I understand it. I try and place myself into situations to be empathetic to others and I try to provide sympathy and support to the best of my ability. I try so hard at so many things. I am harder on myself than any other person could ever be, yet, it never stops people from trying.
And here I find myself in yet another situation where I am someone who has caused problems. I could just melt away into the woodwork and never attempt to try anything. The risk could simply not be worth the possible misinterpretation of my intent. Yet, I cannot stand back no matter how hard I try. If I have a passion in this life that I can't subside, I follow it. There will always be haters, the misunderstanding jealous and the plain misjudgers. I can't understand how God could put such passion for things in my heart yet also such sensitivity to what others think of me as well. Why can I not be confident of myself? I know in my heart the truth. God knows the truth, why isn't that ever enough for me? I cringe when I catch other's in a lie and then as they go to bed at night thinking that I honestly believe they speak the truth...I wonder to myself why I am the one who seems to suffer now? Maybe they suffer too. Maybe more than me. Not that I want them to suffer. Why must people lie to me? I hate the lies. I see right through them. Do they think about the lies as they spew from their mouths? Or do they lie so much it becomes second nature and they pass it on to themselves as a necessity in the moment. They justify it. Or do they simply begin to believe their own lies? I said a prayer last night before I went to bed as tears rolled down my face that he would help me understand what it is that I can't see in this impossibility now. I prayed that he give my faith the strength to overcome this bash. I prayed that I not give up on a silly little dream I have had since I was younger. I prayed that he help me channel my Grandpa's grace with words, yet strength and common understanding. I pray tonight that he give me forgiveness and the ability to move forward and disregard the people who think they need to lie to me without letting them slow me down. In a moment like this I thank God for all of my family and my in-laws too and my friends the old and the new. I thank him for the people who know me and have known me for all of my life, those people who love me, trust me and have faith in me after a lifetime of knowing me, just me, but me all the same. I am important to many people and I feel their love right now, if not for them , I think I couldn't go on into this world with a passion in my heart or a hope in my soul. To those without your judgement to me, I say- thank you, to those who feel you should judge me anyway, I say- can I help you find you instead?

SELFISH MIGRAINE BEAST

What starts as a seemingly depressive day where my lethargy is quite unsettling to those who know me, it can turn worse in minutes. I could tell what was coming. I woke this morning desperate to hide under the bed and sleep. I just did not want to get up today. Then as I sat up and began to immediately move at the speed one must move at in order to get Grant off to school and then off to my care taking/cleaning job for the day; I felt like I was walking through a giant jello mold. And the internal pressure inside of my body needs some sort of documentation. I'm dizzy. The thought of food makes my vomit want to vomit. All day I just walked around inside the poorly rundown vehicle that my soul has been encapsulated in and wondered how I would get it (my body) to do what I needed it to do for me. I knew it was coming, but there wasn't anything I could do to stop it.
Hello Migraine you are my enemy. My hatred  towards you extends across relationships, college careers, homes, pregnancies, ups, downs, you have no mercy. I knew you were coming today my enemy, all because I was weak and made a mistake yesterday. I left the front door opened for you and you welcomed yourself inside so that you could settle down in my brain just perfectly. Don't get too comfortable. You will be leaving soon. That banging you hear? Oh, that is my head against the hard floor because it actually disperses the intensity of your pain and I can deal with that better than you. You are enough to make a person crazy. I hope you die you selfish migraine beast. The most I can hope for myself right now is to fall asleep.....right....

At The Risk of Being Cheesy

I love you Teddy.

Lady with a Hatred for a Rubber Ducky

Yesterday Arline and I drove up to Mendota to pick up Kara and Faith and go to a baby shower of Arline's niece by marriage. The drive was long. I was antsy. At one point when we were probably 20 minutes from Kara's house I finally gasped, "ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhgggggg, let's do a Chinese fire drill!" She told me no. Maybe she was worried I would drive off :-) Just kidding Arline! I was serious about the Chinese fire drill. I hate sitting still that long and riding with me has to be the worst punishment ever considering I can't stand complete silence when people are around unless someone is sleeping. Ever wonder why I talk so much? Now you know.
When we got to the shower Kara and I were in good moods and joking around the whole time, but we were also catching up from not seeing each other for awhile and since we neither one like to talk on the phone, we have to catch up in person. We also find it quite fun to taunt each other. As we moved over to the part where the mother-to-be was opening gifts, we were having trouble seeing anyway so we continued to whisper our conversation. At one point Kara told me something that happened to my niece Faith. I said out loud, "oh my gosh, I DON'T like that!" But right as I was saying that the mother-to-be held up a rubber ducky and the room became quieter than it was. So imagine this. Mother holds up rubber ducky and lady from the back of the room says, "oh my gosh I DON'T like that!" In the awkwardness of the moment instead of saying "I didn't mean the ducky!" I mumbled "yeah, stupid ducky." quite sarcastically. As the shower came to an end, I was noticing that the entire thing was being filmed and Kara and my conversation was probably the closest sound to the camera. CRAP! Wow, I just love baby showers, they always bring out the best in me. It wasn't like I wasn't happy for the couple...I just have issues with baby showers. I was proud of myself for going. They are so hard for me. I know....I have a lot of issues. That's right I'm like a paint by number- so restrictive and annoyingly stifling. But, I promise you I really can rock out an awesome masterpiece despite all of that! Kara was worried we looked like we didn't care and I hoped we didn't. To make her laugh about it I said, "Well, I know they don't like me, at least I have company!" She laughed.

What friendship means, what it doesn't; who you are and who aren't and never will be (and that is okay): forget the mold and get out of the locker!

Amber and I had the rare chance to talk the other day, and as I look back I am mad at myself for spending the whole conversation complaining about the previous day and the drama that unfolded in our house. The guilt I felt with Grant's bad day, the anger at the doctor's office....me, me, me, I have a habit of making it about me. It takes a whole lot of practice and a whole lot of support to make yourself not so narcissistic. So yes, I am aware. I was writing on the new page I added in my blog the other day (the award page) that talking to her was "like water in the desert". I can't find a better description. She doesn't cause me pain, suffering, self-doubt. She never tares me down. That is what a true friendship does. Most of us don't find this until we become adults unfortunately. Some never find it until they are late in their lives. Some people will never get it because they can't stop abusing their friends enough to deserve it.
It wasn't always like this. Honestly Amber and I were in school together and she was a year older than me, but we didn't become friends until late high school. Then we seemed to get closer the farther we got from high school. After I saw her at the frog jumping contest back home immediately following my surgery and recovery we found ourselves almost running to each other like a cheesy but realistic movie and we just hugged. We were both in tears. It was tough not seeing each other through that. But, she had a baby right when I had the diagnosis and surgery. She was there for me, and seeing her made it all very clear to me. So, from that day on we texted and e-mailed and talked on the phone constantly. We still do, more some times than others, but even when we can't see each other, I know she is there if I need her. She always has something to say to make me feel better or something to offer that I never thought of. I'd like to think I do the same for her. Actually, I really know I do. I do. I have a blessing in her and I simply would do anything for her.
There were times growing up when I wondered if I would ever have the type of friends I saw people having at school. Those best friends that hung out outside of school and went to each others houses and did everything together caused me slight jealousy at times. I did have best friends growing up but, as we grow up we change and as we change sometimes our friends don't change the same way we do. It isn't saying that they are bad or wrong, or I am bad or wrong. It simply says that I took a different path for some reason and it has lead me here. The difficulties I had with deep friendships revolved around trust and keeping close to my family due to anxiety. I rarely trusted anyone completely, and if I did it seemed that they were either family or very close friends of family. My mother encouraged me to spend the night at people's houses if I was invited. The conjoined words: "slumber party" or "spend the night" still make me want to vomit. I went to a couple, I'm not sure if any of the people there remember me being there other than one time when I was the butt of the joke and had an incident happen that deeply saddened me. I resolved in my head that I "hated" those girls. But with me, to "hate" someone meant that I often was still very nice to them, I would just cry when I went home: I was very dependent until about 8th grade. I'm not sure what changed me. Something happened inside me that told me that I would no longer be submissive. I started running and writing then and told myself I would completely change who I was to the opposite. I could fake "un-shy" when I needed to. I am a extroverted introvert- (try that one on)! In fact I often put myself in situations that other shy individuals would find torturous. I decided I was going to try out for the dance team, but they called it Pom-poms (which still to this day I laugh about because we rarely used pom-poms). It was a stretch because most of those girls had been in dance their whole lives. I had never been in dance. The only dance I knew was what I felt when I heard music. Oh, how I have so many stories rushing through my head right now about high school and who I was and who I wasn't that I must simply focus on one right now.
Back to the idea of freeing myself... Just because I chose to be different didn't mean in any way that my life was easier, it just meant that I could rest easier at night with the choices I had made even if I was the only one making them. I had strong opinions then, just as I do now. I felt strong resistance toward alcohol and drugs. I assure you the less friends you have, the less parties you go to, the less trouble you seem to get into....Am I saying to be a loner? Not exactly. It's really hard as a young individual or even an adult to stand alone. I remember wanting to climb inside my locker so no one could see me not hanging out in any particular group. I had so many people that were nice to me and I was friendly with. I joked around with so many of them, I appeared to have strong friendships. But nobody in that school really knew who I was except for a select few. If they knew who I was it didn't mean they were my best friends either. Dan (my brother) was in high school with me for two years and that was calming. When he left I never felt like I recovered completely. It may not have seemed that way to others. I was in student council, on the dance team, then I wanted to try to twirl and be a majorette (Baton twirlers) so I asked a friend of mine to show me real quick. I bought a baton, practiced all summer and tried out and made it! So I said suck it to the now large group of a-holes the dance team was (not all of them, just most) and started twirling. (I'm totally over that- can you tell?) I even did fire batons. I have a feeling though people remember me from high school as the reject.
I ran track and cross-country, I read the announcements over the intercom every morning one year or two I can't remember. I won the honorary captain of the cross country team award my senior year (voted on by my teammates). I won the DAR award (Daughters of American Revolution Citizenship Award) (voted on by my teachers and other adults who worked in the school) and was prom queen my senior year (voted on by the students). Yet, I still felt odd, out of place, like I never belonged. So I'm convinced that some people would feel that way no matter how many friends they had, awards they won or things they participated in.
Some may wonder why I am looking back....something took me back. I was trying to have empathy for something I saw and I put myself into a young person's place only to remember that I don't have any answers because I never really learned how to fit in. I still feel the same way I did back then. But there are no lockers to climb into. It just is a different place. In this place I can go home and hide. I can be myself more and still know my husband loves me and he chose me, he didn't just get stuck with me. I can be me and know my boys are still going to tell me "You are my best mommy in the world Mommy!" I can write it all down in a book, give it one last look, hand it over to a publisher and hope they don't judge me as harshly as I do myself. I can know that my words might make someone somewhere feel like people have helped me feel along the way...hopeful...and loved even though I am me.

Blue's Clue's and Brown Bear, Brown Bear vs. The Encycolpedia, National Geographic and Discovery Channel at 5?

I absolutely love Grant's kindergarten teacher. She is one of those people that brings an instant level of comfort the second you look at her. Grant loves her as well. The thing about Grant is that he doesn't instantly trust anyone. He is very hesitant and guarded. I asked him tonight "How do Mrs. Cross and Mrs. Bear compare?" He said "Completely!" Since my question was asked in a particularly odd fashion in order not to sway his response I was confused at first by his answer. He continued on to say that they are the same. To know how big of a shock that statement is you would have to know how in love Grant was with his preschool teacher, Mrs. Cross. He was so upset when he found out that she wouldn't be coming with him to kindergarten. He started preschool right before his 3rd birthday. The Y-tots program was appealing to me because it was only two days a week from 8:30-11am. They focused on socialization, play, following rules, and fun education. I say fun because I am against hard core preschool. I believe that kids should be able to play before they start school. If they ask questions, and oh, how they do... I feel we should answer every one. I didn't want him to be forced to learn the things he would be learning in kindergarten before he even got there. I wanted him to play and experience life so he would want to know all about it. I can understand those kids who don't care to learn because their parent's never answered the millions of "why's" or the kids who never got the chance to play and experience the world enough to be compelled to know more and more. To be hungry for more knowledge.
"Mommy is the sun falling?, Mommy do the people get to come out of the TV?, Mommy how does the tree in the front yard come back to life and get green again after it died when the leaves fell off of it? Mommy why are you doing that? Mommy why can't I? Mommy what's that? Mommy what's that? Mommy what's that?
WHAT'S THAT!"
Due to his thirst for knowledge Grant asked to learn many things and was ready for kindergarten. In June Grant sounded out words in a book Jake was holding and officially read his first book. We covered up the pictures so that he wasn't able to just guess by the picture. I remember getting frustrated recently when he was at his Grandmother's house and I was talking about being worried he would be bored in kindergarten, therefore getting into trouble, and I was informed that he didn't know the sounds that the letters made and didn't know how to identify some of the letters. My first thought was who cares, that's what he will learn anyway, so maybe he won't be bored , but then it hit me...No, that wasn't true. He wanted to play school all of the time so we would often work on letters at home. He repeatedly identified and sounded them out correctly. He had a wipe board that he used and every time he got all of them right we bought a littlest pet shop animal, I'm sure we did that too many times...it got pricey. I couldn't figure out why he wasn't showing his Grandma what he knew. It wasn't really all that important other than it made me look like I was a dope. I asked him why she may have thought that. He told me that he just didn't want to play school at Grandma's house, he wanted to catch toads. I figured he if he didn't care he probably appeared that he didn't know, he was probably thinking about catching toads. She wouldn't have cared if he wanted to catch toads instead of work on school stuff. He should have told her. She was a teacher for years, she certainly knew how to teach him his letters and sounds if he really didn't know them, but I really did already teach him, as bad of a Mom as I may appear to others I know in my heart I do my best.
Grant really loved me to read the children's encyclopedia to him since he was three. I have to be honest, I used to read encyclopedias at my Grandparent's house when I was little, so I was happy to read it to him. He also has developed such an amazing interest in animals, insects and nature that we often have the Discovery Channel Streaming Netflix on. The Disney channel seems to have faded into the background. He has a subscription to Kid's National Geographic, but gets irritated that it doesn't look like the adult version. I honestly thought kindergarten would continue his development upward. I'm sure socially he has things he needs to work on, anxiety in social settings is an issue, but if Ted and I never got over that, how will kindergarten improve that? I feel there will always be opportunity in all settings to learn something, even if it is as simple as, "I should not act like that kid!" However, the kindergarten program has to cover such a wide spectrum of children.....they have to make sure they don't well, leave anyone behind....
I feel a bit amazed that Mrs. Bear is able to teach children who have never read Brown Bear, Brown Bear and are 5 years old, with kids who are already reading (I'm not talking about Grant, she mentioned last year she had a girl reading at a third grade level). I don't really consider Grant to be able to read yet. Tonight Jake was watching an episode of Blue's Clues that Grant probably watched when he was right around two as well. Suddenly Grant pipes up, "Hey we watch this at school during nap time!" I said, "Are you kidding me!?" It was a sudden reaction and I shouldn't have said it, so Ted shot me a look. That look. That one that gets me every time. The "I'm so disappointed with you look". I was just amazed. Blues Clues at 5....Really? This is in no way a comment on Mrs. Bear's teaching skills, as teachers must do what is right for all of their student's right? But, if that is true, what about the kids who are forced to- wow, here comes a "Jo said it and it was totally inappropriate comment...."- dumb it down? I am smart enough even after such a dumb comment to know that there may be reasons for these things I don't know about, but I wish I could understand, I really do. .
As learning about his colors the first week, reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar, and the librarian telling him he couldn't check out books in the bigger kids reading sections- even though I would be reading the books to him no matter what he checked out...., I'm having a hard time telling myself to enforce the idea that he must act his age. What is it that a five year old must act like these days again? Guess I have no clue.
Disclaimer: To all parent's who have children who struggle with a learning disability or social or emotional disability: I understand that there is a struggle for us as parents to keep our children at levels that are equal to those of the typical child their age. I understand the guilt, the pressure, the anger at the school system, etc. I simply am presenting a different thought on the whole dynamic system. It appears broken. I am not the first obviously to see this, but, I want it to be clear that all children (people)  have weaknesses and I am not saying that my son is without his own. Someday when he is old enough to share his, maybe he will. Maybe I will have taught him, if nothing else, that there is no shame in expressing weakness...Until then, I will continue to speak of his strengths because I am proud of him and how far he has come.