Scorpio Passion

The other day I spoke to someone who was genuinely surprised to learn my birthday was coming up, thus making me a Scorpio. When they said, but you're so nice, I chuckled a bit and said, well, you've never scorned me. I was also recently complimented on my energy as a yoga instructor. Not like the energizer bunny sort of energy, because we all know I desperately lack that, but the energy that radiates from each of us. I was told it was positive and uplifting and my students can feel it, and that it's not something you can teach to new instructors, or anyone for that matter.

These couple compliments, combined with my utterly unhealthy obsession with my vampire novels and my continuing drama of being married to an alcoholic, all got me to thinking about a few things.

1. I must have some vampire magic to be able to exude such energy or a positive and uplifting aura, if you will, because God knows... as does my family, most days that's just not me.

2. Perhaps my obsession with reading stories of epic love, magic and fantasy is what allows me to hide the anger, resentment and negativity that otherwise consumes me.

3. The passion that engulfs Scorpios is like an addiction. It is an addiction.

I've often wondered why I get so addicted to whatever it is I find that pulls me away from reality. Ultimately, I know we create our own reality. Yoga, as well as many self help books I read as a teen and young adult, and my Jewish faith has reminded of this truth time and time again. I can only feel consumed by anger and resentment if I allow myself to. I am only down on my self or life or all that feels wrong if I focus on those things and allow myself to feel down. Despite knowing this, there's that side of me that is passionately pulled by truth, so to not feel these things seems like I'm lying to myself. Because the fact is, I'm not happy. It's that simple.

I realized the man I have loved for what feels like forever was hiding his addiction too late. I was already overtaken by the passionate idea that fate reunited us and our paths crossed once again because the universe was screaming, this is the way it was meant to be, you silly girl. Don't ignore it or walk away again. Over the years, I have watched this man I knew in college, who was wild and crazy and loved me like no one else in the world existed, slip into a version of the man I knew he could become. I also always knew he could have just as easily morphed into a different man, if only he cared enough about himself to become that person. It's heart wrenching to watch and even more grueling to accept this reality when you love someone.

So, I'm back to submerging myself in the fantasy world of supernatural beings and magic and well, stories of the kind of love that takes your breath away. I become obsessed with, addicted to, stories that describe the passion that can surround two people so completely that the drama, trials and tribulations and darkness that undoubtedly lives in this world seems like daisies and rainbows as long as they have each other. Many times, a long time ago, our love felt like this. Despite not keeping in touch very often, if at all, for a couple years, that love I once knew was part of the pull that told me many times, before I finally listened, to call off a wedding to someone I was never meant to marry but rather I had simply lost myself in the idea. That love saved me from a very different path I was on. Yet, that love that pulled me back to my path seems to have gotten stuck back in that other life I once knew.

Facing my current reality is not something I can emotionally tackle. I've reached a point that I have too much anger to cry. Even when a "normal" feeling person would and "should", I find myself stoic, at least to the sadness. The anger is something I'm quite able to express. Lately though, I get this overwhelming need to cry. Often many times each day. Yet I still can't. Sometimes I think I can't because if I let myself, I won't ever stop. Every regret, every ounce of anger, frustration, resentment, sadness, grief will seep through and because there is just SO much of it now, how could I ever stop? There's just no time for tears. While I feel it's important that my kids learn that tears aren't a bad thing, I also don't want them to think I'm always sad. I don't want them to know I'm always sad. I want them to be happy. So, I fake it. The best I can anyway. It seems, based on some of the recent "compliments" I've received, I'm doing pretty well at faking my positive, content and uplifting vibes onto the world.

Based on what I know about, be the change you wish to see in the world or be the light you wish to fill the world with, as I like to picture it, the fact that I'm able to do this so well would imply that I would start to feel that light within. It's been quite some time now, over a year since I started my yoga teacher training anyway, which is when I was able to hone in more clearly on pushing that light outward, yet I still can't seem to feel it within me. Maybe I just won't allow it in because it seems every time I feel a glimmer of it, I taste the bitterness of another lie, another letdown and the hope once again fades.

This makes me wonder. Is it my brooding, serious Scorpio side that prevents me from absorbing the very energy of light and love and contentment I can exude? If others actions can't control how I feel, then it must be me, right? Is it the side of me that screams, be careful not to scorn me or you will feel my inability, or lack of desire, to forgive and forget, forever? And thus, I hold on to that feeling of being scorn, over and over, and allow it to consume me. Is it possible for a person to change their essence? I do believe everyone has both darkness and light within them. Despite my paranormal fantasy books being just that, fantasy, there is a great deal of truth to them. That is one of the truth's I certainly believe.

My addiction to these fantasies is clearly a representation of what I crave the most in my reality. My inability to put one of these fantasy books down once I start is part of my personality that desires a passionate life. A life of meaning beyond what mere words can describe, a life of love that means something, of trust that has no limits. My Scorpio side that feels everything to the umpteeth degree tells me to keep reading because my reality is too painful. To truly face real life and accept it for what it is, at this moment, would mean I have to let those tears escape. To do that would mean not knowing when or how to stop them. So, my overly practical, I am strong enough to face anything side, runs in the opposite direction, leaving my own light and darkness to battle it out inside as I show the outside that all is calm.

Right now I simply know no other way. Meditation forces me to accept things I don't want to. Playing with my kids reminds me that I must make very difficult decisions that will impact their lives forever, and I am beyond terrified of making the wrong decision for them. Practicing yoga feels selfish, as well as being a road towards accepting reality. But teaching it allows me to "fake" my reality, my light. It's all very ironic, really. The one thing I desire most in life is trust. Passionate and irrevocable trust. And here I am forcing myself to pretend. To lie to myself. To lie to all those who see something around me and within me that I simply do not feel. As always, it seems we've come full circle.

As fate would have it, I started another one of my vampire books today
and this quote started the second chapter.

 

Mirror Image

I've found people have been irritating me more than usual lately. Or I should say, I'm allowing myself to be bothered by others words and actions. I'm choosing to get frustrated, angry, annoyed...

This isn't exactly a new occurrence. I've always had this love/hate relationship with the human race. Ironic since my career choice was therapy. Though I've changed gears a bit in how I help others find mental clarity, health and wellness through the beauty of yoga, I still chose to work with people. I still desire to see each person I know reach their full potential, to find fulfillment, happiness, and whatever it is their life was destined for. I still feel a part of my destiny is to be a resource for those who wish to use me as one in seeking their path of light and love.

All this makes me analyze my feelings all the more when I find myself so bothered by people and wish everyone could just be a bit more like my dogs, minus the barking at anything that moves and trying to eat strangers part. So basically these past couple weeks I've been stuck in my head psychologizing myself like a good former therapist would do when faced with such a dilemma.

My conclusion came to me the other day and solidified while watching Dexter the other night. No, I'm not a sociopath with an inherent need to kill bad people, sorry, poor foreshadowing on my part. Actually, it's so simple that the fact I still have over 30k in student loans staring me in the face every month makes me a bit nauseated. So, what's the deal? What did I realize? Wait for it....
Sorry, I couldn't resist that one.

Anyway, it turns out that my love/hate relationship with the human race is a mirror image of my love/hate relationship with myself.

Bam! There it is. Profound, I know.

Seriously though, because this is a serious matter. Every time I find myself feeling less than pleased with my fellow (wo)man I can find everything that upsets me about them within myself. A lot of it is from days long ago when, at times, I behaved very differently than I do now. As such, when I realize a person lies, no matter how small, I get very irritated. Angry. Depending on the lie, it can lead me to feel loathing and see red, as some say. Perhaps even feel a bit Dexter-esque! Mostly though, it's little lies from people I may not even be all that close to that have been annoying me. Maybe it's all the lies I hear from living with an alcoholic that combine to make a "little" lie that really doesn't matter weigh on me. Mostly though, I think that it's the fact that I used to lie in such ways.

Example... one time a friend and I didn't feel like studying for an exam so we spent our time concocting this elaborate story about getting a flat tire and being stuck in Pittsburgh and not being able to make it back to school until the next day. Then we were able to take the exam in an office which enabled us to "share" our knowledge. A flat tire? Seriously?! How did a professor believe that ridiculousness? In the grand scheme of life, it's not such a big deal, not like the lies I endure almost daily. Regardless, I don't like that I used to be that person. I don't like when others remind me of that person.

I find myself getting really upset when people talk about others. Known as Lashon Hara in Judaism. I used to be that person too. "hey, check out that shirt she's wearing." "Did you hear what so and so did last night?" "Can you believe... blah, blah..." Gossip is as bad as slander which is as nasty as any evil thing a person can do to another. Not only does it send out unnecessary negative energy that we then have to work extra hard to counter with some positive vibes for the universe, it's simply mean. You can say, stick and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me, in your best na-na-na-na-boo-boo voice but it's simply not true. Words are our most powerful weapons against each other because we all have access to them. They CAN hurt beyond repair. Even if the person you're talking about never knows you spoke them, you know. They are in your heart; your mind. They may even be true. Gossip often is true. But that doesn't make it right.

I can't honestly say I never engage in lashon hara anymore, but I sure do my best to not only watch my words but also my thoughts. Just because I don't comment on how ridiculous someone looks aloud these days, doesn't mean I don't think it sometimes. Along with many other thoughts and sometimes spoken comments that could have been left unsaid. Hey, I'm human! And I shop at WalMart once in awhile. Enough said.

Bottom line though, thoughts are a powerful energy. They can hurt.... and they can heal. These days I try to focus on the healing energy, because God knows, we all need to heal in some way or another. 

I get irritated when people can't see the error of their ways. When they can't admit they were wrong. Now this one is probably my most challenging work in progress. However, like I tell my husband, I tend to stick with things I know. Which means, I often am right! I don't talk just to talk. Unless I've been drinking, which is rare these days. If I discuss something, it's usually because I am at least fairly well informed on the subject. If it turns out I'm not, I can admit that. But... when it's a topic I know I'm well informed on and I'm sure I'm right, I get very frustrated when others can't see it my way. You know, the right way!

This frustration is predominately with my husband and most often surrounding parenting. Now, I'm no expert on parenting, that's for damn sure. But, I am well educated regarding human behavior and human development and when it comes to my kids, no one knows them better. I am with them 24/7/365, so when I talk to him about the importance of consistency, among other fundamental concepts that pertain to raising them, and he continues to do what I feel is sabotaging everything I work on with them each day during his hour of fun time each night, I get VERY irritated.

A lot of this boils down to not feeling like he's an equal partner in the parenting process due to his drinking. This often goes back to my nasty thoughts which puts negative energy out in our grand universe and I don't like this about myself. I don't like it about others either. Thus, people have been irritating me more lately! All the negative energy spewing out into our world. It's sad really.

What I've found is that each time someone reminds me of something I loathe about myself, my disdain for the human race begins to seep back in again. It breaks through that barrier of love I work on each day and slowly builds back up with each reminder. I start to only see the reminders; all the parts of me I can't stand. And as a result, I can't stand anyone. Even every little thing my kids do drives me crazy. Which in turn makes me a craptastic mommy during those times, which simply builds on that self hate and loathing of all people who remind me I'm being a craptastic mommy! 

Whew. That's some viscous cycle, I know! Really, I know. 

Now, have no fear. I also have the solution. Mainly because I've had to break free from this many times. The only way out is love. It's that simple. And that hard. That's sort of the epitome of the whole love/hate relationship after all. 

The difference this time is that now I know why I find myself so darn pissed at others and why my faith in humanity wax and wanes so often. I have placed yet another valuable piece to the jigsaw puzzle known as my life. It's not that I can't stand people, it's simply that I can't stand myself, or parts of who I used to be anyway. I can't control other people and what they do. But, I can control myself and how I act; who I am. I learned that long ago and made some changes. Changes I'm happy with. Which means there is always hope for humanity. There's always hope for me. And as long as I dig deep, there's always love.

The most important love is for oneself. If you don't love yourself, you can't love others. Next would be for others, family, friends... But love for those you don't feel deserve it, enemies if you will. Now that's the epitome of love. If I'm not for myself, who will be for me? If I'm not for others, what am I? And if not now, when? Yes, it all goes back to the beginning. The words that changed me.

Ultimately, it's really the guilt from my past that I hate, not me. But guilt is a whole other nasty pile of dog doo doo for another post, another time. You love those cliff hangers, huh?!

In the meantime... this song is one of my top 5 favorite of all time and it tends to remind me of this whole love solution thing. So... enjoy, and may you all find and hold on to your love.

 

Hell Hath No Fury...

- William Congreve, 1670-1729

 

Or more commonly known by the shortened version... hell hath no furry like a woman scorned.

I always felt this saying was all too true. Well, I'm a Scorpio, so it's certainly true for me! Recently though, I've been thinking of this saying in relation to depression.  When I read the original quote, I couldn't help but ponder the symbolism even more.

Depression takes everything from you, not just your ability to be happy. It turns your self love into loathing. "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned". And it feels a bit like a woman scorned. It hits with a vengeance and it's only purpose is to make you suffer. People don't typically associate this saying with depression or mental illness but I can't help but see the likeness.

A lot of people have been talking about mental health issues lately, since the Sandy Hook and Batman movie murders, but what a lot of people seem to forget are the everyday Jane's (and Joe's) out there, like myself. The doctors and teachers... the Target cashier... lawyer... firefighter... our neighbor's... our friends and so many of us Mommy's. We aren't about to go on some shooting spree and most of us aren't "crazy", well maybe a bit bat shit crazy but not the straight jacket kind people are referring to.  But, we suffer from depression and anxiety and all sorts of other mental health issues nonetheless.

Of all the people out there, I think it's most difficult for mother's to admit and talk about their depression. For one, not only do people lack understanding but they are painfully judgemental when it comes to what a mother "should" be. And well, depressed is not something we are supposed to be. We are responsible for these sweet little angles whose smile could heal any ailment and whose hugs can melt the heart of the most bitter human being. We are blessed. There's so many who can't have kids or afford to adopt and who want what we have. We are responsible for teaching them what happiness is, how to work through sorrows and disappointments in life and everything in between. We can't be depressed because it will assuredly screw them up. Right?! Why on earth did we ever even have kids to begin with since depression has a genetic component and all? Yup, I've read that before. I've read it all and quite frankly, it just makes the depressed mother more depressed! These judgements ring through my head when I'm at my lowest point.

When I'm good, I could care less what the judgy, ignorant species think or say so that's when I'm working to build up those who are listening to these harsh criticisms. To educate and let truth flow! Like now.

Aside from my anger in relation to my husband's alcoholism, I tend to avoid talking about my own issues all that much. I like to focus on the positives, the good parts of life, the ups and downs that come with the insanity of parenthood. I like to focus on bettering myself, not only as a mother but as a human being. There's always room to grow and focusing on the rut you're in simply keeps you in that rut.

The truth of it is though, I've struggled with anxiety and depression since I was a teenager. I've gone many years without needing medication and many years with it as well. I always fight it even when I know I need that pill again. It was no different this time around. My body fought it too. It took four tries before finding one that worked but when I did, I noticed a difference almost instantly, which isn't that common. It usually takes weeks. So, once again I let go of my own "shoulds" and "shouldn't nots" and told myself it was ok if I needed something to help me reset. If it means I can be a better mom, then I'm willing to do anything it takes.

Then I had some side effects, or possible side effects, which gave me an excuse to try to wean off after only a couple months. Not. A. Good. Idea.

I felt like I lost my mind one night. The typical feelings of worthlessness and there's no point to be here feelings came on in a flash after the kids gave me a run for my money all day and I was upset at getting so upset with them. I hate myself when I yell at them over what I feel is really insignificant things. Yes, they need to listen and follow directions and can't expect everything right NOW, and all those things that can lead to self-rightous, selfish little twits who talk back and have no respect and you just want to slap upside the head. But they are 2 and 3 for crying out loud! I can let it go. Really, I can. But even as I hear my not so crazy self talk telling me this, the more neurotic side is in there saying, this is it, if they learn they can walk all over you now then you might as well throw in the towel, you failed as a parent! The neurotic side often wins. That neurotic side is also part my behavior therapist side. But as a mom, I have. to. let. it. go!!!

Like tonight. Which is what brought me back to this post.. which has been sitting for awhile now. It was a yelling day. And night. And I'm feeling like a craptasic mommy. I used the word "craptastic" now 3 times today. Yup, THREE. The thing is, I started back on my little blue pill after the night I lost my mind and my husband looked at me like I was insane. So why the yelling now? I'm feeling good. Better anyway. Maybe I need to take the whole thing since I thought 1/2 was enough (which is what you start with, I didn't just making that up!). Maybe I'm just stressed. Maybe the monsters really were extra difficult today. Daddy is out of town and mommy doesn't throw them around and let them get away with anything. Maybe they just needed to let loose a bit and I was being too anal. I probably was. I can be anal.

I have a hard time finding that happy medium you need as a parent. I lean more towards the, follow the rules and listen to what I say or else sideof things. Odd, since my mom was the complete opposite! Granted, I listened for the most part. She even says she doesn't ever remember me being like these two crazy kids are. Today, I really could understand why my Pap used to pull his belt off when my mom and her siblings misbehaved. I don't condone it, but I understand!

So where do I go from here? Perhaps a full little blue pill will do the trick. Perhaps if I just stop making excuses and get back into my yoga routine more regularly is all I need. There's so many things I want and need to do for me to feel healthy, mentally and physically, but like most mom's I do for everyone else first and think I've been successful if I just remember to eat three meals a day. If I get a shower on top of eating then I'm really kicking some ass butt that day.

Yes, my daughter ass butt now. It's great. No, she didn't learn it from me.

So, to all my mommy's out there who have fought the battles with depression, or anxiety, or any other mental health issue that no one wants to talk about or that people judge you for, you are certainly not alone. Heck, I recently realized nearly every mom blogger or awesome blog page I've visited that the mommy in charge is dealing with some sort of mental health issue! So, alone is one thing I am certain you are not.

Depression doesn't define you... or me. It doesn't make us bad mommy's. It can, but it doesn't have to. I'd rather act like the woman scorned by depression than depression trapping me in "hell".

I don't actually believe in hell, thus the quotes. But this isn't a religious post so that's neither here nor there.

Anyway, I do honestly believe everything is mind over matter. If you want something enough, it will come. Because you will make it happen. Knowing I need a pill from time to time doesn't change that. It just helps me to make the things I want happen!

So, off to do a bit a yoga, because I need it... and I think I won the bedtime battle tonight!

Who Am I and Who Are You? Yes, You!

I have another post in the works but since I was tagged by the wonderful and funny momma, Martha Stewart Doesn't Live Here, with this light and lively Who am I? Who are You? I thought I'd play along first. This is a little game recently brought back to life by some pretty awesome bloggers like My Daily Jenn-ism and Menopausal Mother and more if you check them out and then simply follow the yellow brick road. It seems some smart lady blogger condensed the old version a bit, or I probably would have passed  on this. Let's face it, answering 45 questions about myself for free and not in relation to health care is CRAAAZY talk in my busy world. Heck, even in relation to health care it's crazy talk.

So anyway, if I ever write a book like every other mom blogger in the world is doing, here's my personal bio for the last page where you read all that stuff about the author!

1. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
Pittsburgh, PA. About 10 minutes south of the city. And yes, like every other person from the Burgh I was born and bred a Steeler fan, which is a birthright passed down maternally. My Philly bred, Eagles fan husband has no say. See ...

2. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER SOMEONE?
I was. Or so the story goes....After my dad got kicked out of the delivery room for threatening the doctor because my mom had been in labor FOREVER, he left and was watching Charlie's Angels. My mom was convinced I was a boy. Even after finally having a c-section and coming around she said I wasn't her baby because she had a boy! I was supposed to be Justin Mathew. Anyway, my dad came up with Jaclyn after Jaclyn Smith. Marie is after my mom's late Aunt Marilyn. (It's a Jewish  tradition to name your children after those who have died...like in many other cultures)

And so it was... Justin Mathew turned out to be Jaclyn Marie!

3. IF YOU HAVE CHILDREN, HOW MANY DO YOU HAVE?
I have 2 beautiful PITA's. PITA #1 is my 3 year old daughter and #2, my son, will be 2 in a few days! I'm not ready for my baby to not be a baby anymore! I also had two for sure miscarriages and another very early one, though the doctor thought it was a false pregnancy, I know my body well enough, I was pregnant, even if just for a couple weeks.

4. HOW MANY PETS DO YOU HAVE?
One dog who is king PITA of the house! Well, aside from the husband of course. I have a boxer who will be 9 in May. He's had issues since I got him as an adorable pup. He's on Prozac. Yes, Prozac. It helps. He's nuts, but he's my nut

And, since starting this post I received word that we were approved to adopt this sweet girl, Nellie!

Should have her in about 10 days. I'm very nervous to make the leap to two doggy's but I figure it's a better move than a 3rd baby!






5. YOUR WORST INJURY?
I don't get hurt. Really. No broken bones or stitches...ever. (knock on wood, right ?!) I would get sprains as a kid and act like I broke my ankle! If I skinned my knee I wouldn't bend it to walk for weeks! Seriously. Having a baby puts pain in a whole new perspective. But injury, nothing to note.

6. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
Nope, not really. Nothing like this anyway!

 

I am good at things like yoga. Sometimes I can surprise myself with my creativity or thinking outside the box, like making a homemade kite out of paper and pom poms because we were out of string and the kids up and decided they wanted to go fly kites... and it was raining. Things like that. But I am in NO WAY talented in the artsy arena. So again, nothing special to note in the talent department. I feel boring.

 

7. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE THING TO BAKE?

Probably muffins. I like muffins. Homemade of course. That's not sarcasm. I have issues with premade cake and muffin mixes. Mainly because I use whole wheat flour, honey and applesauce instead of sugar and oils when I bake. 

 

8. FAVORITE FAST FOOD?
I loathe fast food. I work extra hard to eat healthy. As healthy as I can anyway. I'm not perfect by any means. I eat fast food if it's the most convenient, like when on the road, but I don't like it and feel crappy after. I also grew up on fast food so I have some fast food issues!

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
I used to want to. Not so much anymore. I have more of a fear of heights than I thought I did.

10. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
Their aura. It's the yogi in me, what can I say? I have this feeling when I meet fake people. I get an uneasy feeling and well, I just don't enjoy being in their energy space. I notice if people make eye contact too. Mainly because I've been doing a rather crappy job at the whole eye contact thing since having kids. I tend to keep my eyes on them at all times and forget I'm talking to someone and should probably look at them from time to time. Reasonable enough. But since I got so used to that, I realized I do it even when my kids aren't with me!

11. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
I cut an onion today and the tears were pouring out!
Seriously, I have a hard time crying. College peeps would LOL if they read that but for many years now, it's true. An honest to God good cry, it's been a long time. Can't recall even. I cried at my Pap's bedside and after he passed and a couple times after thinking of him. I tear up about once a month but no real tears. TO be honest, it sort of sucks. A good cry is good for the soul.

12. ANY CURRENT WORRIES?
Um, I'm a mom. Nuff said.

13. NAME 3 DRINKS THAT YOU DRINK REGULARLY?
Water, Coffee, Wine. In that order.
Though I don't drink nearly enough water and it's always a goal of mine. Yes, I stress over my lack of water consumption. And when I say coffee, I tend to go for for the latte sort, so I guess technically I drink more milk than wine.

14. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE BOOK?

Team Edward!

When I find a good book, or I should say a book I like, I can't put it down. I tend to procrastinate starting a book for many reasons and excuses. I've been in a book rut lately, with MANY on my to-read list. That said, I like easy reads. I LOVE the Harry Potter series and Twilight, Hunger Games and Girl trilogies. I mean LOVE in that I get completely obsessed with them. I ignore my kids, housework, everything... even have the book in front of me while I cook, eat and use the potty. I would put them down to shower and drive, though considered getting them on CD for those purposes.

Recently I loved reading How Yoga Works during my teacher training. I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone.

Enjoyed a number of the classics like The Catcher in the Rye and also have yet to read many of them too, like Withering Heights. No, I've never read it. Nope, not lying.

15. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE A PIRATE?
Not really. I'm not into stealing. Though Izzy and Jake are pretty cool. They are the good pirates. And seriously, what girl wouldn't love to be stuck on a ship with Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom. Certainly not this one! But other than that, nope, a pirate's life is not for me. (Yes, I sang that in my head)

16. FAVORITE SMELLS?

Buy from me!

Young Living Peace and Calming oil.

Yes, the picture is a shameless plug for you to buy some oils from me! Message me if interested :)




Love lilac! Would love a lilac bush around the house somewhere.
Old school cologne, like Dakar and Polo. Reminds me of high school crushes and my husband in college. I'm sure people still wear these, I'm sure we have Polo around the house somewhere, but it's more the nostalgia.

17. WHY DO YOU BLOG?
To keep my self talk from driving me completely insane and to connect with others who are going through similar experiences. I do this for both support and to hopefully help others through being honest about how I am dealing with this thing called life. Before being a mommy I was a therapist (mental health), so it's in my blood to want to help if I can. I also love how we are all connected in some way and blogging often reminds me of that!

18. WHAT SONG DO YOU WANT PLAYED AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Hmmm. I'll have to come back to this one.

Okay, I thought about it last night and the first thing that came to me was Bob Marley. Anyone who really knows me knows he is my all time fave, though I rarely listen to Bob anymore...or anything other than a top 40ish radio station and kid toons. Recently while working on a playlist for a tot yoga class I was subbing for I realized how much I miss Bob and music in general. I need to put this new iPod to good use and start soothing my soul with some good tunes! So, I think I like this one for my funeral... that's if you do music at a Jewish funeral. I don't think you do for some reason. (click "this one" in case you didn't realize that, to hear my funeral song)

19. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
Just one? Not possible.
My anger
My difficulty with letting things go
Right now it's all the pains my body is experiencing for an unidentifiable reason.
I really dislike my acne.Does anyone like acne? It makes me self conscious when it's bad. I prefer to feel confident. I feel silly since I'm 35, not 15. It just sucks.
Battling waves of depression. (the post I was working on before I was tagged to do this)

20. FAVORITE HOBBY?
I don't really have a hobby like stamp collecting or scrap booking. I have made one scrapbook though and it turned out pretty awesome for a first timer, but they are WORK! I'd have to say yoga was my hobby but now it's my career, hopefully. So, I'm not sure it can still be classified as my hobby.
Ooooh, I do have an all girl fantasy football league. I think that can be considered a hobby. If so, that's my favorite.

21. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A FRIEND?
Loyalty. You don't have to agree with me but even if we agree to disagree, you'd have my back if someone else had something bad to say! Period.

22. NAME SOMETHING YOU'VE DONE THAT YOU NEVER THOUGHT YOU'D DO?
Everything I do is with purpose, intent or I believe I was meant to do it... BUT I guess I could say paragliding in Switzerland. It was over a decade ago and I always knew I would travel, though I can't say I imagined it or planned on that at the time.
That's part of why I no longer have a desire to bungee jump, skydive or anything else that involves flying high in the sky. I thought I was going to puke the whole time. Though, it was a pretty view.

23. FAVORITE FUN THINGS TO DO?
Prekid or now?

Kid fun... watching the kids sing and dance. Anything that makes their little faces light up with excitement. Amusement and water parks. Cooking out with family, playing yard games. Prekid and now actually.

Prekid.... Penn State tailgating and games. NOTHING compares to the energy of Beaver Stadium. Nothing.









24. ANY PET PEEVES?
Many. Shall I list them all?
Ignorance is #1. There's no excuse for it. There are endless avenues to learn whatever your heart desires. Or at least whatever you feel a need to comment on. Know about it first!
Wasting food, wasting anything.
When counters are left wet... or sinks and I lean in it.
Tailgating, that's more a road rage thing than a pet peeve. It's so unsafe people, geesh!
When my husband makes a comment but I know he wants to say something else.
Oh, I could write a whole post of pet peeves. I'll stop here.

25. WHAT'S THE LAST THING THAT MADE YOU LAUGH?
My kids. Everyday. Many times each day. I could share a few videos but if you read this long, well, I'm impressed and I won't force you to watch my short home video clips!

Stupid Facebook posts tend to make me chuckle quite often too. Actually, since it took me 3 days to do this post, this is what made me giggle last night. Not sure why, but it did.

And that's all she wrote folks! Geesh, I should have stuck with my more serious one! This took FOREVER.

Most of the bloggers I thought of tagging were already tagged. The rest...I don't know well enough or have won all sorts of awards and really know what they are doing with this blogging thing so I feel silly.....
Here's a couple I like who I follow on Facebook but I don't know them all that well. I've been bad at keeping up with anyone's blogs lately. Time, time, time... there's never enough of it! So, maybe they'll play along, maybe not. You should check them out either way. I think you'll like them!

Modern Mama Dramas
Mommy Unmuted
SooperDad Blog of Awesomeness (I love dad blogs!)

My followers can feel free to comment by answering their favorite question too! If you so desire.

Namaste and Good Night!! I'm so happy to be done with this post!

The Addiction Detour

For some time now I've been a bit dismayed at the lack of understanding a substantial number of people have regarding alcoholism. Or addictions in general. There's a wealth of information out there and more research than anyone could ever sort through so it's frustrating to hear the common stereotypes and judgements day after day.

Addicts can't just stop. It's not a matter of lack of strength or will. Though often it is a lack of understanding of what's going on inside themselves and how to work through it. It may be a lack of resources. And often fear plays a powerful role. Fear and love are our two most influential emotions as humans. Alcoholics don't love being an addict. Heck, they typically don't have much love for themselves at all. They simply don't know any other way to be. Or they have forgotten that there is another way.

Alcoholics are all different. They come from different cultures, different religions, different upbringings, have different problems and live a variety of lifestyles. It's sort of like how cancer is different for everyone. There's countless forms of cancer that present in various ways for all different types of people. There are ways of treating each kind for each person. Sure, there are the basic, tried and true protocols but that doesn't mean that will be the best course for everyone. Everyone wants to know if my husband is in AA or doing this or trying that. He's tried a variety of things. In my opinion, he's never tried anything long enough to give it a fair chance. But it's not my recovery so I really can't say. I don't know what treatment will work for him but the judgements for not doing it one way or another do not help him find his way.

The symptoms of alcoholism look different for each person too. Yes, many symptoms are the same which is why AlAnon groups can be so helpful for those of us who love an addict. The manipulation, the lying, the Jekyll and Hyde personality... that is pretty universal for any addict, that I know of, whatever their addiction may be. Some alcoholics drink every single day. Some hold good jobs and others are in and out of work because they drink on the job or can't wake up for work from drinking at night. Some are stumbling and slurring and clearly drunk. There are others you may not be able to tell unless you are very close to them and see that person daily because the differences can be so subtle. Some have many legal issues, some a few, some have been lucky. Some go on all day binges for a few days or a week. Maybe longer. Some are able to refrain from drinking for a few days or a week. Or longer. Though, saying someone isn't an addict because they are able to refrain from drinking for a short time is like saying someone isn't diabetic because their sugars have tested normal for a week straight! And it really isn't supportive of the family who lives with a loved ones addiction struggle to minimize it.

The use of alcohol is a symptom, not the problem. Which is why alcoholism is a disease. Yes, it's a disease of choice in a way because you have to choose to take that first drink, but most people in this world have had at least one drink before. And I'd venture a guess that most of them had a drink to "relax" or to help take the edge off of a crappy day at some point or another. What if you have a whole month of crappy days and found that drink really helped? Maybe you'd think, why not have one the next day, and the next, and then it's two drinks, and so on and so on. If there are other things going on in that person's life and they don't have another outlet or are not very in touch with themselves or their emotional needs, well, that disease can grab hold like a parasite seeking it's next host. Then, it's no longer a choice. And most don't realize when it wraps its claws around them until its too late.

Everyone wants someone or something to blame when things aren't as they "should" be. It's human nature to need a reason. So it's easy for people to think it must be the alcoholics fault. They can choose to take a run to work out their issues, journal what's driving them to drink or just care more about those begging them to stop. If only it was that simple. Just like you can't wish the tumor away or for your pancreas to work the way it's designed, you can't just stop being an addict. Cancer needs treatment to kill it and your pancreas needs medicine to regulate your blood sugar. Addicts can't be saved by your love, but they need it all the same.

Don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean the person who loves them has to stick around and watch their demise. Or possibly worse, go down in flames with them. And I've never been shy about admitting it's hard as hell to hold on to the love for that person you can't see anymore because they've  been swallowed up by their disease. All I know is that person is still in there somewhere.

I think the most challenging part for people to understand about addictions is that they just are what they are. My husband might be having a great day, a perfect day in the eyes of some. And out of nowhere the next thing you know he starts to change. Eventually I notice that he's getting more drunk each minute. If people are around they will ask, what happened? Did I do something wrong? Why did he drink? I thought we had a nice day... They need a reason. They need something or someone to blame. The truth is, there's nothing, no reason. It's simply the way the disease works.

As I sit here and explain all of this and fully understand it myself, there are many times when I am that person... the one questioning, baffled by his "choice" to drink for seemingly "no reason", blaming something I must have said or did that set him off. I think... if I just loved him more, was more understanding, more patient... It's probably why I get so frustrated with everyone who doesn't get it. It's that same part of me I'm frustrated with. It's my frustration for not fully accepting that this is how the disease works. It's so hypocritical of me in many ways. I mean, I had an addiction! I know this is how it works. I know no one made me restrict my food or purge it, and I know at a certain point it was no longer a choice of mine but it was this nasty disease that took over who I was.

Alcoholism... addiction... it changes a person. It becomes that person when they are in its clutches. The real person is still in there though. There are breakthrough times where you can see that person they truly are, times when their addiction takes a break from preoccupying their every thought of how to get it, where to hide it, when to drink it, how to not get caught.... Addiction is a full time job and it can drive you insane. There's so many lies to keep up with, people to manipulate to maintain your secret and new ways of perfecting your ability to hold on to your self destructive safety net of coping and survival. It's exhausting. I mean truly. exhausting.

I was lucky to only be sucked in by my eating disorder for a year. But I lost a year of my life to this way of thinking. The manipulation was endless. How to hide how little I ate and if I couldn't do that then how to hide that I was purging that food. It's quite difficult when you live with your parents in a small house. I also had a lot of after school activities so I'd have to find a secluded bathroom at school where I could lock the main door or make up lies about when I ate and on and on. Every addict masters the same tricks of secrecy for their chosen addiction. The alcoholic puts the alcohol in a different bottle, the bulimic uses running water to hide the sound of vomiting... addicts that are able to hide their addiction are really quite clever individuals.

I don't have the answer. I wish I did. Some people are able to just stop. It's rare, but it happens. Some people struggle their whole lives, breaking free for a time and being swallowed up by this disease over and over again. Some people find other behaviors that aren't self destructive to replace the ones that are killing them. Some get to the real problem and work through that and their symptoms of drinking, manipulation, lying, hiding... are able to melt away and they find their true selves. I was lucky to be so self reflective at a young age. Though my quest to being my true self continues, as you all can attest to. There's no one right path to being disease free. I wish there was. And just as much, I wish others would understand this. I wish the stereotypes would cease to exist surrounding addictions and mental health issues in general.

In the end, we are all just human. We all have a purpose. We all need to figure out our purpose and our path to fulfillment, to happiness. Some take detours. No one likes detours. Alcoholics don't like the path they are on. It's simply ignorance to assume that. People who are depressed don't like being depressed. There may be something holding them in those places, something that's comforting in a way, but no one enjoys being unhappy. Trust me. Being on a detour to your true path and your true self doesn't make you weak or uncaring. It doesn't make the person selfish or ungrateful for the blessings in their lives. It's just where they are right now.

I pray that each person stuck on a detour can find their way in this lifetime. One thing I do know is that no day is the same. We have an opportunity to change direction each morning we wake up because quite simply, that's another day we are alive! The only other thing I know is that each and every one of us deserves to be on that path of contentment. Judging where anyone is on that journey only detours our own happiness.

Namaste.

Hmmm, Three?

After Caleb was born, I was 99.5% sure he was my last. He would be my baby. Two was quite enough! It was perfect, one hand for each kid, we wouldn't be out numbered, one sibling wouldn't be left out or feel like the black sheep. They would either be best friends or do their own thing. We wouldn't go broke and best of all, no way we'd ever need a mini van!

NO, no, no, I'm NOT pregnant!

But lately, the more I think about my baby turning 2 in two very short months the more I miss it. Not the sleepless nights or screaming. Or trying to figure out what the hell they want and feeling like you're going to rip your hair out. I don't miss the diapers; which I still deal with BUT I've been so excited about the boy's interest in potty training and can see the light at the end of the tunnel with that one! I don't miss the baby food and complete helplessness.... But I miss something.

I have this urge to feel that tiny life growing and doing yoga in my belly. I forget all the pains and exhaustion and overwhelming desire to just get the baby OUT during those last couple months. For a few weeks now those memories are masked by this longing I can't quite describe. Maybe it's the bond, the excitement, knowing our lives are about to change forever. When I used to get antsy like this it just meant it was time for me to move to a new state or make some big change in my life... not have a baby!!

I also realized I miss nursing. To be honest, that sometimes makes me shake my head because in the midst of exclusively breast feeding I feel a bit trapped after awhile. Especially with my son who was not interested in a bottle and I even had to throw out some pumped milk that he refused to drink. The stress over the fluctuations in milk production and weaning and watching what you eat, what medicines you take or when you have a glass of wine can really start to take it's toll. Yet, I think I would extend breast feeding to at least a year and a half, given another chance. Ironic, I know. Maybe I'm just depressed that some men have larger breasts than I do at this point! Whatever it is, I miss it and feel a bit sad with the realization I won't have that type of bond again. Or at least that would be beyond awkward at this point!

I mentioned recently how I've been thinking a lot about how quickly it all goes. How fast children really do grow up. How the problems of refusing to clean up their play room and throwing food, potty training and fighting over who has which truck rapidly become worrying about whether you've taught them well enough to recognize "stranger danger", other dangerous situations and people that would hurt them, or worse. And then praying they fully grasp the dangers of drugs or drinking and driving and (gasp) unprotected sex, and on and on. Maybe I just want to prolong those worries a bit by still having the "easy" worries of a younger child to contend with.

I think about how exciting it would be to NOT find out the gender of this imaginary child. Since we have one of each, it really doesn't matter to me and there are few things in life that can be a true surprise like that. I still have some names I love and would be excited to use. I would love to honor my Pap by naming one of my children after him. Though I would be sad he never had the chance to meet them.

And then... I remember all the reasons why we said we were done! I'm not sure I have those newborn months in me again. While the kids really are getting easier, my patience is shot and it's nice to have this opportunity to rebuild it a bit. Rylie still sleeps in our bed which would cause some issues. Most of all, Craig is no where near in a solid recovery and there's no chance I would have another baby with anything less than a completely sober husband for life.

That may be part of it. Or all of it even. The broken promises and hopes that this time is it, only to find him drunk again after doing so well. This baby urge might be a replacement for my intense desire for my husband to beat this disease and losing hope each time he drinks again. The urge to have a baby is in some ways more tangible for me. I've felt it before, I know that feeling. It gives me a similar sense of happiness and fulfillment, joy, longing even, the same emotions I feel when I think of my husband maintaining his sobriety for life. Or at least a few months. The same emotions I have when I think of what our life could be like, can be like. WILL be like.

It's human nature to want what you "can't" have. This urge may be as simple as that. It also may be my yoga practice that's opening up all these channels for me. Maybe this is simply in the cards. I always said 2 or 3... until we had our first and saw what it can be like. Then we realized not everyone was lying after #2 popped out. Some kids are easy, some not so much. We have one of each, maybe we shouldn't press our luck.

Or maybe I should stop giving all our baby stuff away!

Who knows what's to come. It's the beginning of a new year. So, I guess time will tell if 2013 will be the year to fulfill these urges or desires. And which ones! The duck needs to come before the egg though. In this case anyway. So, I wait to see if Craig can really stay sober this time and I wait to see if this baby urge will simply subside. I'm 35 now so waiting much longer isn't something I'm interested in, but that urge is there and it's only growing stronger.

Remember, I did tell people if we ever lost our minds again and thought something like this might be a good idea for someone to slap us silly. Who wants that honor?



Ooooh, so I don't need 3 hands,
just more coffee?

Happy New Year everyone!

May this year bring you many blessings, much joy and just enough hardship to remind you to be thankful for each day!

Namaste.

Detachment

It's been WAY too long my friends. I had planned to write about my labyrinth walk on my birthday but then my birthday went to shit after that, thanks to a little thing called vodka. Now, it's 8 days later and I've now spent the weekend studying the Yoga Sutras and meditation, sans kids and husband I might add! Yes, this is the first time on my own since my kids were born. And yes, it's awesome... though it's quiet and I do miss them, it's awesome.

Anyway, my head is spinning with insights and information, as usual, and I'm not sure where this one will go because there are so many things I would love to share after such an intense and wonderful yoga filled weekend. One thing I keep coming back to is how I always felt like I've been searching for something my whole life. I really remember feeling this more around the age of sixteen, which I think I mentioned before, but I've been in my head asking questions about everything for as long as I can remember. Why are we here, why am I here, what's my purpose, how can I help make this world a better place, the place it was meant to be, and on and on, and on......

So, this thing I keep coming back to is that every time I find myself on a path towards more self awareness and inner peace I am always in awe at how each path is intertwined with the same exact message. From the self help books I read as a teenager, my counseling classes and learning about human nature/behavior, to delving into my religion and learning about Judaism and now focusing more on yoga, it really is ALL THE SAME in so many ways. The message is the same, the goal is the same.

We are here to reach our full potential and in doing so, we can make this world as it was meant to be. Everything is for a reason and we are all connected. We truly are.

That's a loaded statement, I know. It's no wonder I gravitate towards such paths in life. I "get it", I just have a hard time getting there and holding on so I keep searching for the "thing" that will help me hold on to this fulfillment I seek. There are many paths I could take discussing all this in a more philosophy sort of way, or a yogic way I should say, but to be honest, I don't want to freak anyone out. It can all get a bit "out there", for lack of a better word. So let's stick with a realization our teacher helped me come to today about myself.

One main reason I decided to do my yoga teacher training was to find more inner peace. My hope was to find this peace which I believed would enable me to better deal with living with my alcoholic husband, or to find the strength to leave by accepting he won't change, if it came to that. I felt this peace would help me to not to be so angry all the time, to not flip out and say mean and awful things and think even worse mean and awful things when my husband drinks. As I've said, I feel this anger is changing me, even starting to define me. I feel guilty for getting so angry because it's just not who I am and I don't like this angry person. Also, as a side effect from my goal of inner peace was to be a better mother, to provide my kids with a more emotionally stable environment.

While discussing the Yoga Sutras related to detachment this anger came up, and my inability to not get angry, and more so my lack of desire to not want to get angry. I want to be angry at him when he drinks because I think it's something reasonable to be angry about; something I should feel angry about and even say mean things to him because of. I feel it's a normal reaction to the situation, just like crying when a loved one dies. The thing is, I thought my anger was the problem. I thought my anger was causing my physical pains and the knotted muscles which my massage therapist simply can't fully work out no matter how often I find myself on her table.

What I realized today is that it's not my anger at all. My anger is OK. It is reasonable and it doesn't make me a bad person or even someone I'm not. It's my GUILT over feeling I shouldn't get so angry or say and think such mean things that's causing me all this pain. I mean, really, I am always in physical pain or simply feel nauseous or have a headache. But it's not the anger I need to detach from, it's the guilt. I need to allow myself this natural human reaction of being angry when a loved one lies to you, manipulates you, doesn't think about the safety of your children and refuses to work on reaching their own full potential in this life. It's OKAY to be angry about this. It doesn't make me a bad person and it doesn't have to change me or who I am.

So, this detachment thing just became so much more clear and easier for me. I need to detach from the guilt and let myself be human. I need to let the anger just be but not let it bother me or consume me. Be angry, but don't let it burn me. It sort of reminds me of the symbolism of burning bush Moses saw. The flames were there but they didn't consume or burn the bush to ashes. The bush remained in tact; whole. I can be that bush. At times I may be a flame of fire but when the time for that fire has passed I can be whole again.

This is an incredibly freeing realization. It's one my Rabbi tried to help me see over a year ago around Yom Kippur when I worried about not wanting to apologize to my husband for the mean things I had said. I knew I had hurt him but I felt an apology was futile because I would not mean it. He essentially told me this same thing. Maybe I just wasn't ready to hear it. Whatever the case, I am grateful I was ready to hear it and accept it now.

As always, this doesn't solve the very basic issue of my husband being an alcoholic and all the issues that go along with that when it comes to our life BUT, it does enable me to detach from these things and to continue on my path of peace and happiness. It enables me to continue to seek my full potential and to be a better mother. When it comes down to it, isn't that what we all desire?

Namaste my friends....until next time.

Yoga Sutras
Part 1
15. Non-attachment is the full knowledge of one's true nature, abiding as the seer, without clinging to objects of experience or objects described by others.

16. The higher form of non-attachment occurs when, due to identification with the eternal Self, one does not cling to the primary cosmic forces of creation.

Kriya Yoga Continuing the Lineage of Enlightenment by Ryan Kurczak

I am... 2.0

So, I tried this yesterday and realized after I read about 20 others that I was REALLY down on myself. Since the "rules" of this self love exercise are no editing and proofreading I felt I owed it to myself to sit for 5 minutes today and write a 2.0 version. It's the least I could do for ME, right? The, "I suck" one is still available, deleting would be editing of course, but you can ignore it. I'm thinking I might do this once each week. Just for the much needed morale boost I so often need!

I got this idea yesterday from You Know it Happens at Your House Too but as I clicked through links to other blogs I saw an origination point at Jana's Thinking Place and many "I am" posts at the end of hers. Click the picture to read....

I hope, whether you have a blog or not, you will try it out and post your response in my comments! It's actually quite therapeutic, which is what this little blog is all about :)

The rules are pretty straight forward....
1. Set your timer for 5 minutes. I'm good setting timers in this house for the many time outs experienced daily!
2. As I said, no proofreading, editing, etc. I'll be honest though, I'm going to cheat just a bit because I suck at spelling and can't deal with mucho spelling errors in one of my posts. I'll get all sorts of anxiety and end up proofing it and editing it altogether and being a big rule breaker so just a quick spell, I won't edit. Promise.
3. Post it somewhere, somewhere just as a reminder for you is great, but I of course would prefer you post it right here and share it with us!
Oh, you can write an into, obviously not part of the time limit :)

K. Got it? My timer is ready. Nope, wait, daughter just snagged my phone.

Ok, now we are set.....

I am a mom. It's the hardest thing I've ever done but boy do my kids bring me such joy.

I am a wife.

I am a daughter. My mom is my best friend and the one person in my life I can always count on.

I am a friend. If you're my friend, my true friend, I would do anything for you. I may not talk to my true friends often but they are always in my heart.

I am loyal to the people and things I love.

I am passionate and will fight with all I have and yell from the mountaintops if I feel an injustice has occurred

I am compassionate and feel empathy for everything, even those nasty little spiders I squash or the sad faces of the opposing team losing.

I am a proud Penn Stater.

I am a person who believes if you set your mind to something you can do anything. Or nearly anything. I overcame an eating disorder as a teenager and have never looked back.

I am someone who gets angry easily but I am working on it everyday.

I am a yogi.

I am a Jew.

I am a dreamer and a thinker but given the chance I will do whatever it takes to put those dreams and thoughts into action

I am always striving to be a better me. It's what I think life is all about.

7 seconds left, yikes.... I am growing. An old motto from recovery days... I am free to be ME!

Your turn! And yes. I am definitely going to make this a weekly thing. No, I won't fill my blog up with 3.0 and 4.0 I Am posts but this is too wonderful. We must love ourselves if we are to love others or be loved.

I Am......

I just wrote to you all yesterday. One from the heart that I put all my emotion into so I had planned to take a little break. BUT I came across this little self love challenge and well, I'm always up for a challenge, especially when it can help me on this little quest of constant self improvement.

I got this idea from You Know it Happens at Your House Too but if you start clicking through the links you'll find this has been a wonderful pass it forward sort of thing so I hope, whether you have a blog or not, you will try it out and post your response in my comments!

The rules it seems are to set your timer. I'm good at that as we have a lot of time outs in this house. There is also to be no proofreading, editing, etc. I'll be honest, I'm going to cheat just a bit there but only on the spelling, I won't edit. Promise.

Ready, set, go.....

I am an AWFUL speller. Thus my cheating. Which I often did to pass spelling tests as a child. Probably why I suck at spelling.

I am a mother. I often feel I'm not a great mother. Certainly not the mom I thought I'd be. BUT I try to be better each day and some days I do a pretty darn good job.

I am a wife. If you read my blog then you know I'm not always the best wife and my marriage has its issues. Moving on...

I am a daughter. My mom is my best friend. The one person I can ALWAYS count on.

I am loyal. I wasn't always.

I am a good friend but lately have slacked in friend duties and can't remember the last time I spoke to many of the friends I hold in my heart. I need to be better at that.

I am a yogi. At least I try. I'm great at the physical practice. A work in progress on the rest.

I am a person who loves people and always strives to see the best in everyone. Sometimes this can be a fault but I love it about myself.

I am passionate. There are things I believe in strongly and I fight for them with all I got.

I am a Penn Stater. Always and forever.

de-de-de-de-de-de-dede, de-de-de-de-de-de-dede. That would be my phone alarm :) So I am done.

Post your I AM..... below. Would love to know you are even if I already do!


PS- I just did my cheating thing and NO spelling errors!! AWESOME. yay me!

PPS- not many of you saw/read this. That's good. I didn't live up to this challenge very well. Some self love! I was such a Debbie downer, geesh. It's been a week. Wait, it's only Wednesday. Yeah, exactly. Anyway, check back for my 2.0 version tomorrow! I think this is a perfect thing to do everyday for oneself...no worries, I won't post one everyday! Night all.

My Honest Imperfections

During the Days of Awe I often find myself a bit more somber than usual. Sure, I have my usual moments of dealing with my husband's addiction that bring me down but as I contemplate my actions, thoughts and especially words from the past year I get down on myself. I mean, crazy down and hard on myself.

I truly try to live in a way that will better this world, in every way I can think of. Whether it be recycling, or just not being wasteful, to teaching my children the importance of respect for all life, from trees to animals and people. I work hard to watch how I speak to people, particularly those that offend me. I work even harder to not judge people, particularly those I consider ignorant, disrespectful or outright mean spirited. I find I often do not live up to my own standards.

I know I'm harder on myself than anyone else could possibly be and while I think I need to give myself some wiggle room for being imperfect as every human is, I tend to be unforgiving of my faults. So, during these days of reflection and making amends and promises to myself and God that I will strive to do better from here on out, I find it ironic to do these things all while treating myself in the exact way I am promising not to treat others!

Every year I realize this unforgiving tendency is one of my biggest character flaws because I do not save it for myself alone but I tend to be unforgiving of most things and people who I feel have wronged me or others. Now, I'm not talking about how my husband chooses to remain ignorant of some harsh realities of our world, particularly politically charged issues, or my step dad thinking that it's too much trouble to recycle when you have people over because there's just too many cans and bottles to deal with, or always having to follow up with people who can't seem to do their jobs effectively. While these things are very frustrating and annoying, I ultimately do not believe such imperfections will make or break us as a race. While these things will all have an impact in some way or form as the ripple effects from a single persons actions can be vast, I am able to forgive these smaller imperfections in others and myself. Well, sometimes myself, but definitely others.

It's the bigger things. Hate is something I find unforgiving, which seems a bit of an oxymoron to me since not being able to forgive someone can often lead to feelings of anger, resentment and ultimately, hate towards that person, including oneself. I analyze this a lot simply for that reason. Though even just cruel or harsh words in the heat of anger...or drunkenness... or anger due to the other's drunkenness is something I dwell on, fester in really, and I can't seem to let go of these situations; to forgive.

My frustration with humanity for too often lacking compassion for others gnaws at me and I find myself unforgiving for our lack of action when it's needed most. Those who look at the homeless with disgust, who look at the mentally ill with annoyance or who judge the unemployed as a collective group of lazy people are examples that come to mind. It's the people who are intolerant of those who are different or whose views are opposing to ones own that I find unforgiving. It's being unaccepting of others whether it's because of the color of the person's skin, their religion or that they do not believe in religion. It's judging who a person loves because they are the same sex or woman's painful decision not to see a pregnancy to term. It's judging those who judge these people because their religion taught them such things are sins.

It's speaking negative of a mom who chooses to extend breast feeding or the mom that exclusively bottle feeds. It's the snide comments about how someone is dressed or considering a person who eats meat as somehow not being a decent human being for that choice. It's turning your nose up to the parents who choose to home school their children or the parents who utilize cry it out as a means to sleep train their baby. Our differences are never ending and the fact that so many people are unwilling to even try to look past these differences or to stop and think for just a few minutes as to the myriad of reasons why others make the decisions they do, believe what they believe or say the things they say often sits and stews in my brain until I become so pessimistic towards my fellow (wo)man that I start to question the point of working to be any different then this myself. A person's unwillingness to even attempt to look through the lens of those who have a varying worldview is simply unforgivable to me.

And then I remember this,
Mother Teresa has been a long time hero of mine. 

I admit I have done these unforgivable things myself. Maybe not often and by no means all of them, but I certainly have judged, I have thought others beliefs were borderline crazy and I have reacted out of anger without stopping to think first. I've thought other moms choices aren't the best, including my own, and I've been unforgiving of myself because of it. I don't always take a step back and try to understand the other side, especially at times when I know I'm right. I have this book titled 'You Don't Have to Be Wrong for Me to Be Right'. I've mentioned this book before but I forget which post it is. I never finished the book and only know the premise of it really, which isn't related to this post exactly, but regardless, I find the title so profound. I feel if we could all live by those words we would all find acceptance for one another, or at the very least, tolerance. First and foremost though, I need to remember to accept myself, with who I am right now and where I'm at on this journey. Only then can I truly accept and be gracious to others.

The problem is, I can't seem to forgive myself for the awful things I think and even say when my husband drinks. I asked my previous Rabbi about this last year around this time and he didn't really have an answer. He agreed that I have a right to be angry and didn't say or even insinuate that I shouldn't say mean things. But I don't think it's okay. It's not me. It's not who I am at my core, I'm not a hateful person but such hate filled, angry and mean things pour out of my mouth when my husband drinks and I can't seem to turn the faucet off once I start. My thoughts in those moments can be even more vile. Some of the things I say and think are horrible to think about anyone let alone the man I'm married to; the father of my children. Regardless of his actions or things he says, I do not have to forget who I am. I can be better.

I try to tell myself that I can't let his actions effect me or lead me down a path of choices that make me hate myself. Only then, I think if I don't get angry then it lets him off the hook so to speak. He'll think what he's doing is okay and it will get even worse. I've asked him about this catch 22 I find myself in and he tells me to get angry or he will in fact think it doesn't bother me anymore. I know him pretty well I guess. But all I can think is, how is this fair to me when I don't want to be angry anymore? I work every day to calm my anger. Part of why I wanted to do my yoga teacher training is an effort to return to the person I am so I can be a better mom; a better person. It's to release this anger that eats away at me, that will steal my happiness and my life if I let it. But he wants me to get angry at him.

I know I am only human. I know I am not perfect. I know both of these things for a fact. I actually removed thew word "perfect" from my descriptions of things or people long ago when I was in recovery for an eating disorder as a teenager. I don't expect perfection from myself, or anyone else for that matter, yet I have the hardest time applying this knowledge to these unforgiving moments that we all have. I weigh on this so often, not just during these days set aside for us Jews to reflect on such imperfections and sins and repentance. I just can't seem to find an end to this circle of anger, thinking/saying horrible things, being unforgiving of both myself and him for it and contemplating how I can do better..... It is quite exhausting all this anger and not being able to forgive and introspection stuff.  I feel a bit like I'm on a perpetual treadmill.

Obviously some things are unforgivable and in my mind, they deserve to be. I can't fathom how people can torture or brutally kill others, most especially children. I've felt hate in my heart for leaders of nations and their followers who call for the annihilation of Israel and all Jews. I've felt some people are the definition of evil, Hitler for example. Yet millions loved and followed him and agreed with him! How is that forgivable? Yet, many Holocaust survivors have said they forgive their captors, the very people who starved and tortured them and murdered their loved ones. If someone harmed one of my children, I honestly don't think I could forgive them. The problem with this way of thinking is that the act of forgiveness sets you free. Free from the anger. Anger that can be all consuming. Free from the anger that can grow into hate. Hate being something that is simply unacceptable and detrimental to our survival as individuals or collectively.

I am far from perfect. No one is. I guess that's why I can't figure out this forgiveness thing. But I know it's out there. Others can do it under much worse circumstances, so I must continue to strive for it. All I can do is keep trying. Keep remembering I'm not perfect. No one around me is perfect. I need to keep remembering my husband isn't perfect and especially remembering that my kids, who often drive me a bit bat shit crazy, are not perfect! The more I remember that we are all not perfect the more I can remember not to respond in a way that would assume we all are. In the end, I don't have the solution. I haven't found forgiveness. All I really can do is keep going to bed each night with the intent to do better tomorrow. Isn't that all any of us can do with our imperfect selves?

Saw this yesterday as I was working on this post.
How perfect!

To any members of the tribe reading this one....
Gmar Chatimah Tova  (May your final sealing in the Book of Life be good)

Officially Our Anniversary

Tomorrow marks two years since Craig and I "officially" got married. I say "officially" since we didn't tell ANYONE for months. I only started telling people, including my mom, who I talk to everyday and who knows pretty much everything, after posting Caleb's 1st ultrasound picture and realizing it had "Hoosier" on the picture, oops! Even then, we didn't announce it for nearly a year with the hopes of having the "real" wedding we both wanted but decided to postpone so we could have another baby (Mr. C love) sooner than later. Once we realized that kids suck every last drop of time, energy and money out of you, all essential to planning your dream wedding, we accepted that wedding we talked about for over a decade probably was a long shot. I changed my name, we told those who hadn't found out or been told yet and really made it official by announcing it and changing my name on Facebook. But tomorrow is officially the official big day.

My busy little head has been full of all those "real" wedding things I wanted, saying our vows in front of all our family and friends on Old Main lawn, if that's allowed, with a Penn State style reception at the Nittany Lion Inn or Atherton, and all the trimmings in between from what song we would dance to and what my dress would look like. Swirling in between this childlike dream that most women my age have long moved past, especially if they are actually married, are what feels like the endless struggles we have faced since we reunited over four years ago, which are no secret here.

Because it is our anniversary, I've tried to flip that anger switch to the smiles I can't help but let escape when I recall some of our first memories. My very, very first being my sophomore year as my friend and I were 1/2 waiting in the long line for beer, 1/2 debating if it was worth it or to move on to the next party when the always smiling and in the middle of everything little freshman "Hoosier" came bobbing down the stairs at DTD and asked if we needed beer. I expected him to go behind the counter and get some but instead he pulled what seemed to be an endless supply from every pocket on him and gave them all to us and disappeared (I assume to reload). That yellow vest he was wearing, which I often donned 2 years later at tailgates, is still hanging in our hall closet, for sentimental value.

After that, I seemed to see him everywhere; every party I was at and even crossing paths heading to class. Pretty phenomenal if you think about it in a sea of 40,000 plus, considering he was a frat boy and I didn't do the whole sorority thing. I also can't help but think of fate when I think of why Craig ended up at Penn State to begin with. Or me for that matter. Everything happens for a reason, I've said it before and I'll say it again, everything.

So, we never could figure out if this first memory of mine was before or after he remembered meeting me. I say before just so I can be the one to lay claim to noticing him first. Either way, his memory goes like this... "I'll never forget when your little ass came walking into the Pugh Street house and I thought, I'm going to marry that girl someday". Now, knowing Craig like I do I'm pretty sure "marry" was substituted with a much more crude thought that would make me want to load the shot gun if a boy ever thought such a thing about my own little girl BUT, regardless, his story has never wavered over all these years and as such this is the single most romantic thing he has ever said to me. So, whoever noticed who first... I think I can admit he wins with the first impression story anyway.

I think of this story on the days I forget... on the dark days, the ones that make me question everything because that is the Craig I married. When I feel unloved I remember, that is his disease not the man who knew he wanted to marry me from the moment he met me.

We were apart for about five years and during that time I always felt he was still my best friend, even when we only talked once a year. I always thought no one would never love me like he did. It's probably why no one ever did, in my eyes anyway. But in the end, I came back from Israel ready to move on with my life, to start fresh. As fate would have it, I was driving back home to live for the first time since I graduated high school and I realized it was Craig's birthday. I had a long drive 1/2 way across the country so I called to wish him a happy birthday and found this Philly boy was still living in Pittsburgh, a place he moved "figuring I would end up back there eventually" as he would say. Which is probably the second most romantic thing he's said. Are you figuring out he's not a romantic type yet? Anyway, he had moved on like I had over those years but was in a place where his life was also in the midst of major changes.

Six months later we had a house in Lancaster. Just under a year and a half later we had our little Ry monster.

 
I truly, with everything in me, believe that Craig and I were born to be together. As angry as I am many days, frustrated that I know we are better than this, I also know God had a plan for us. I believe God still does. I don't know what that plan is exactly but we keep fighting for it. We fight for the love we have. We fight for the love we remember. We fight for the love that's buried behind a lot of anger, guilt and resentment. We fight for all those smiles that come from the countless memories of when it was us against the world. Many people in college either hated me or hated him so together, well, oh boy. Together we were trouble. But as long as we were together, we just didn't care what anyone else thought.

My most embarrassing Penn State moment happened two years before Craig and I started dating. I told him about it, I will not share it here, ever, it's that bad. Turns out, he knew the girls involved and when they saw me (I had no recollection of them) they so kindly told him the story. He laughed and said, "that's my girl" and walked away. Yup, that kind of trouble. Bonnie and Clyde not Romeo and Juliet. We grew up, thankfully, but we had a hell of a start!

We had our ups and downs then too, every relationship does. While we have more serious issues to work through now, that also goes along with growing up; grown up problems. It was us against the world then, I see no reason why it can't be again. Perhaps if I start seeing it as us against this nasty thing called alcoholism rather than me against him, we'll find what we've been fighting for.

Some things are just meant to be, no matter how damn hard they are. This may only be our 2nd anniversary but it feels like our10th. Some may think that's not a good sign, I thought so at first, until I allowed myself a glimpse back over our years together and even those apart. That's when I realized that, in reality, our story began with those first memories from some fourteen years ago. There's easily a decade of "marriage" we have loved through and fought for. Life's not easy, that includes marriage and parenthood and everything in between. But if you're lucky enough to find the person you're meant to share this life with what else can you do but fight?

Our first "date", sort of.

If you're reading this, Happy Anniversary, Craig! No, it's not June 6th :)