Last day of May

Is it really the last day of May already? I'm not sure if I like that time appears to be passing by so fast.

Sunset on the Weekend

And so the sun begins on it's path to set. The sky is just beginning to turn that golden orangish. It's been a full weekend, that is not coming to the end. It's been productive in that I now have some lovely shorts to wear, and which can be worn as casual, or dressed up a bit. I've also got some lovely tops to go with them, and a new sweater too. Thankfully, all my clothes were on sale.

Oh, yeah, and for those of you who've known me for a bit me, are you sitting down? Good. Because I also came home with 3 skirts. Okay... just breathe. Yes, really, I've got 3 skirts to wear now.

The whole shopping experience was really interesting, because I went with a friend of mine, who's Quaker. Basically, she only buys her clothes at discount, and shops at places like Gabe's, Goodwill, or consignment shops. I had no luck at these stores, but then I got to thinking about it. Her philosophy is based on doing what she can to not fill up the landfills, and to give back where she can.

As she says, everyone gives to Good will, but do they shop there to complete the circle? It's easy to give things away, and buy new. But if we keep doing this... the circle is incomplete. In her eyes, places like Walmart, who offer new clothing cheap, are bumping business from the Good will, where people who could afford much used to shop more.

When she first told me this, it didn't really sink in. But then I started to think about it, and it made sense. Which, was scary. But then I started to think about it, what if I followed her philosophy of unless I absolutley need it, can't get it anywhere else, or there's a reason to buy it new, why am I paying full price?

More things for this thoughtful brain to think about.

In other news, tomorrow I've got a photo shoot with my daughter. Should be interesting. And, I'm a little nervous. But, it's part of our gift for the hubby. So... we shall see.

It was a dark and stormy night... I mean, it is...

Yup, it's dark and stormy here. And, I should probably be off this computer, that I've been on all day, but, I've been working. And, catching up on blogs in between.

This weekend, unlike Ed who's at the beach, or Stacie with tons of plans, I get to work. And, the ILs are coming to visit tomorrow. And tomorrow, I'm meeting my friend L for a Diva Day. Sunday, I have no plans, but ILs will still be here, so, who knows!

I've been looking forward to this day for months. I've been carefully saving up money to shop, as I'm in need of shorts, and since they're calling for 90 degrees on Sunday. Well... shorts would be a good thing. It will be a day for me, with a good friend, who I can hopefully focus and shop with. I'm SO excited!

Little things, big belly, and a baby

I have a friend who lives in the city. We met through Reiki shares, and 2 days before I birthed Pook, we took a Reiki III class together. He's an amazing poet and photographer. He took pictures of me and hubby, and my precious belly when I was pregnant, and 10 days after the pook was born, he visited us to take more pictures.

<-- Pook at 10 days.

We became friends when he read my poetry, and shared some of his own. I was flattered because he considered me to be a muse.

We'd hang out on occasion. For a long time after Pook was born, he was going through his own stuff, and I didn't really get to spend time hanging out.

He did manage to take some gorgeous pictures of Pook for her first birthday. And then... he faded off into his own world.

This year, we've found time to get together almost once a month. We sit at opposite ends of the couch doing reflexology and Reiki to each other's feet. In this time we solve the world's problems, and our own, and it's all good stuff. I mean, it's couch time after all!

The other day, while we were chatting, he was talking about all that he'd been through, and told me that it was time he started spending time with people who really cared about him and wouldn't use him. Good friends, like me.

It's funny, because, being a "Good Friend" took me by surprise. I'm just me. I do my own thing. I'm not the person to call at 3 am when you've got a problem (Hell, if you call after 8pm, I don't answer the phone!) If I don't want to do something, I usually don't. There are certain qualities in people I don't deal with. In fact, I'll avoid people with those qualities. If you are going through a hard time, I can be supportive. I do not want to hear about a situation you've created, are complaining about, and unwilling to get out of (especially if you know it's best to get out of it) - for the third time. First time, you do gt sympathy. I do things without explanation, though you can ask and I'll probably answer you. I'm quite involved in my family life and my own self- created schtuff; I admit it. I can be really self-centered. So, this was a lovely compliment for me.

I apparently have a knack for being there when people need me (most of the time), as well as good listening skills. Add that to my unique gift for helping people to see the good in things, especially one's self, and the fact that I can be a really loving and giving person on occasion. I care a lot about a lot of people in my life. And, whereas I once called everyone and anyone a friend, I'm not more selective in my choices of friends now.

It's not something I associate with who I am. Hi, I'm Grace, and I'm a "good friend!" However, that little comment he made, really meant a lot for some odd reason.

Bits and Bobs

It's turning out to be a lovley week filled with things to do. I'm beginning to see a trend... I seem to get more stuff done when I have more things planned... Hmmm... I think Stacie's on-the-money when she suggested setting a time limit for things.

Today, the sun was up and bright quite early. Pook is still sleeping (yay!) and I've been able to get a large chunck of work done for the day.

Speaking of which... think I'll try to get in some reading before my sweet lil one awakes!

Happy Birthday to...

My sweet Canadian luvs!

Hope that you are both have a splendid day, and doing something lovely!

Sending you hugs and well-wishes.

Love,

Us

Dear Grace,

Just wanted to remind you, that you really do need to get your work done today and stop procrastinating. I'm totally on to your method of creating big things to think about from little things.

So, I really think it's time you just stopped blogging, and get to work.

Sincerely,
Your Inner Guide

*****

Dear Inner Guide,
Sod off! We're having a lovely time pondering what fun is and how to incorporate more of it into our lives. So, nyah!

-The Ego

*****

Dear Inner Guide and Ego,
Can you two work together to help me focus a little more? I really do need to get this work done and stop procrastinating today. Really, I do. Because I have to work this weekend, and really don't want to stress out about it.

So, um, thanks in advance,
Grace

Redefine fun

Madame Simone: Let us redefine fun... as that slightly tipsy feeling you get, after your first drink of champange.
Johanna: Well then, guess I'd better just start drinking.

That's how I feel this morning. These words are from one of my favorite Lifetime Original movies. After a 10 year annivesary, her husband tells her that she's still the same, and he's not sure if that's what he wants anymore. Johanna (aka Mrs. X), ends up taking an assignment in Paris to get away, "Even the refridgerator makes me cry!", to interview the elusive Madame Simone. On the way she rediscovers herself and how to have fun. Which, fits the description as Simone redefined it.

This morning I was thinking about that. I've had those moments. When we all started playing "handsies" at the vow renewal; celebrating spring and Easter with our friends L, D, and their daughter; when you have one of those lovely conversations with someone, and you find you've got this big grin on your face... So, I don't need to start drinking just yet. Besides, I'm not fond of champange, and too much alcohol leaves me feeling more ill then tipsy. (Yes, I do still get quite giggly though!)

Perhaps, she's just not getting the full picture. I think that I do have fun; I'm just trying to have fun in her way, instead of mine.

Then again, maybe I just think too much. :)

Having fun...

From dictionary.com:
fun ( P ) Pronunciation Key (fn)n.
1 A source of enjoyment, amusement, or pleasure.
2 Enjoyment; amusement: have fun at the beach.
3 Playful, often noisy, activity.


I had an amazing conversation with a friend last night. It resulted in her mentioning that she doesn't think we (as in me and the hubby) have fun; that we aren't enjoying our life, because we're too caught up in other things. Fact is... *sigh* she's right.

I'm not sure what happened, or how it happened, or, maybe I never was a fun person come to think of it. I enjoy things like cleaning and decluttering, okay, sort of. I do admit to feeling good when I clean, do laundry, or most basic house work things. I like the sense of accomplishment, and that fresh clean feeling.

Sometimes I wonder what I'd do if I didn't have house projects to complete.

Right now, I feel like I'm a juggler:
*being a mom
*relationship with hubby
*taking care of myself (which, is often dropped)
* getting the house fixed up (front door and front needs painting)
* clearing out the pile of clutter in the basement
* cleaning up the garden
* preparing to move: i.e. packing, getting rid of stuff, and, oh yeah, finding a house and putting ours on the market! (eventually)
* being frugal as I can
* choosing to homeschool (thus needing to do the research)

I'm trying to find the harmony of all these things. I really envy Ed (mulching, waterproofing the deck), Stacey (mowing the lawn, getting new floors, having windows caulked and painted, etc.), and Phil (though, haven't heard many house projects from him lately, but he does them on occasion) who seem to have it together when it comes to house stuff. Then again, I do have a child, but, I keep wondering if that's an excuse.

I'm digressing I think...

I need some input here. I want to be more playful, and make things fun. I don't want my daughter to be tainted by my lack of fun-ness. I really do think it's important, but, I'm just not sure I know how to have fun anymore.

Am I making sense?

Oh great void out there... lend me your input. How might I incorporate more fun into my life? What is fun? How do you have fun? How do you define it? (Ed, you always seem to have fun. How do you do it?)

I know that part of it is changing my perspective. I'm just not sure how. Anybody our there got some "Fun" glasses I can borrow?

The next chapter of our journey together.

For those of you wondering how Saturday's vow renewals went (thanks so much for the lovely wishes), read on. And yes, there are pictures. Otherwise, you'll have to wait til the next post! :)

Saturday turned out to be a very interesting day. While it rained everywhere else in WV, it did not do so in out little corner of the earth. It was perfect weather for walking up the "hill" (aka mini-mountain), to visit three special places, the last of which would be where we'd renew our vows.

My handpicked bouquet of daisies, buttercups, and lillies of the valley.

The comparisons between this day, and 5 years ago were amazing. For one thing, my beloved had to cut his hair, or his mother threatened not to attend the wedding.

If you look at it now, it's much, much longer. He's currently pondering cutting it a might bit shorter (still long enough to tie back) to donate it to locks of love. At least, that's what he said he'd do the day after.

It's still long though. I'm fine with it either way, as I adore it long. I think it's quite sexy. ;)

Our first wedding consisted of a ton of people, a struggle because we "had" to invite people we didn't really want there - you know how familial politics go. At the time, we just wanted to please everyone. It was one huge party, followed by another party. There were LOTS of people. There were also a few dramatic incidents at the first one.

Though the first wedding did have a lot of "us" in it the first time around (people still talk about it), this one was all "us". Both weddings, however, were just right for the places where we were/are in our lives. This time around, we wore our hair as we pleased (he wore his tied back this time, and mine was loose). We created our own ceremonies and spoke from the heart. We spent it with 3 of our dearest friends.

We arrived in the afternoon, unloaded our stuff, and began to set up. Some things didn't work out as planned, but it was for the best. When we were ready, the men and the Pook went off to feed the chickens; the women headed up the hill to do our own thing. We smudged, we gave thanks, we spoke from the heart, we asked blessings upon the floral wreathes my one friend had ordered for us to wear in our hair, and we scattered rose petals to the winds. We thanked the mountain for letting us celebrate upong. When we were finished, we called the men with the drum.

You can imagine Pook's surprise as we greeted her with flowers in our hair, and her delight, when we donned her with her own wreath of flowers to wear. My one friend commented about how the first time it was I who came to hubby, and now, he was coming up to meet me.

The week before we wrote down things that we wanted to release, things to create, and what we wanted to transform in our relationship. We invited the others to write their own things down. Pook had even colored a few.

Fire is the element of transformation, creation, and passion. We then honored the fire with our offerings. The fire responded by quickly lapping up our bits of paper. And as they burned, you could almost feel the burdens being lifted, and a change happening in each of us. It was a serene and tender moment for all.

Perhaps it was psychological, maybe it was magic. But it was a tender offering from us, a transformation we wanted to happen before we recommited to each other.

With that completed, our little caravan headed down the hill to music and drum to our third location. Pook had long decided that she would be carried around to each place by this point. She wouldn't be with anyone other then Daddy. (She'd already told him how cute he looked.)

Being surrounded by all the green was invigorating. There was something symbolic about the journey we were all on. I mean, that's what marriage and life are, aren't they?

A Journey.

Each person seemed to be pondering this, though there was chatter here and there, and laughter. Always a good thing.

The third location was extra sacred to me and the others. In it was the Grandfather Oak tree, who watched over the valley. Watching over Grandfather Oak, was the Happy Buddha.

The Happy Buddha is a statue who stands, or rather almost dances before the Oak. His smile is contagious, and that day, it was even more so. We gave him a flower for each hand, and let our precious flower girl scatter rose petals about him.
Yes, this is said flower girl, and Happy Buddha. Our precious little Pook looking very fairy-bohemain as she tenderly scattered each precious petal, before dumping the rest out of the basket.

We took a moment to play a song from our wedding, and describe the scene for our friends, whom we didn't know at the time of the first one.

Then, each one told us us what they wished for us.

Harmony, Gratitude and Playfulness, but the one that touched me most was Kindness. "There will be times when you won't feel like being kind to each other, but be kind anyway. Always be kind to each other and others. And teach your daughter kindness as well." -GH

We then stood before Grandfather Oak, holding a rose quartz heart (from our honeymoon) between our palms. Our one friend stepped forward, wrapping our hands in red ribbon. In Asian cultures, red reprents happiness, and is the traditional color worn by brides. She spoke from her heart blessings of love, joy, harmony, kindess, and a plethora of other things spoken so beautifully, my words don't do justice. Our other friend stepped forth with a ribbow of gold (I wore this in my hair for my 30th birthday bash) and more beautiful words.

And then, everyone put their hands on top of ours.

That moment, our dear friends witnessed our own heartfelt words to one another. Which, I don't remember because they were short and sweet, and everyone (save hubby and I, for our hands were tied and I held Pook in the other), began a game of "who's on top" seeing who's hand could get to the top and try to stay there. It was fun, and joyous. We had to take a picture of it.

Which, was funny, because last year, we ended up taking a spontaneous picture of our feet, while cooling them in a pail of water. Figured I'd place it hear for the full effect.

I think next time, we'll be going for the elbows. :)

After this, hubby and I shared a tender kiss. We then played our song, and began the descent back to the house, where we toasted with sangria (we didn't drink alcohol at our wedding, though we did after) and ate homeade bread.

For those who don't know, wine represents passion and creativity (to us anyway), and bread is the sustance. We toasted our dear friends who are both of these things to us. (Yes, we were all laughing at the Catholic connotations here.)

As with most receptions, one usually takes a picture of the tables. We had one very vibrantly decked out one.

We dinned on eggrolls, dumplings, and General Tso's chicken with rice. Nummy. Hubby and I danced to our song in the living room. (We made a CD for our friends with songs from our first wedding, songs that meant something to us, and songs that reminded us of them.)

And then, we all hung out side listening to the birds, breathing in the fresh mountain air and absorbing the green, before we came back in for hot tea, and to cut the cake. Our wedding cake was 4 tiers with sugared flowers. This cake was a 1 tier, homeade chocolate cake with a cream cheese icing that perfectly complemented it. And, real flowers decorated it instead of sugared ones.

Looking back, I can find symbolism and meaning in all of the day's events. But either way, I'm looking forward to another 5 years, and 5 years after that, and 5 years after that, and... (you get the picture) with my mate, my beloved hubby.

We've been through a lot in 5 years. Neither of us are the same people who started on this journey. Sometimes I look back and laugh at my expectations for both our wedding day, and the marriage.

And I don't know what the next 5 will bring. Although, the fairy card we drew when we got home was the vacation card. I can deal with a 5 year vacation. What I do know, is that I want to spend them with him. Weekend mornings of spooning until the Pook comes in, tender kisses, the greatest hugs (he's got a reputation for excellent hugs), late night chats, snuggling during the movies, and the tender excitement he gets when he's able to get me a surprise. What can I say? I love him...

5 years as husband and wife

And so it's on to the next chapter of our story.

"Caught by the moonlight,
a silent mist a shimmer in the trees,
oh what a night for dreams,
a night for destiny.

Others are sleeping,
so unaware of magik in the air..."

Happy Birthday to...

Phil!!!!!

Happy Birthday Babe!!

Here's hoping you have a FABulous day, and do something really special.

Sending you lots of birthday wishes, hugs, and luv!

Love, Us

5 years ago...

Five years ago today, I woke up early in the morning, to a superb breakfast fixed by my mother, and joined by some of my dearest girl friends. We got our hair styled, put on makeup, I found a brief few minutes to write in a journal, then we were off. We caravaned to our location, scouted out the area, and made our way into the huge dressing room, where we donned our dresses and dancing slippers. Two girls stood watch outside the door, one "enforced" and handled all the bad news, while we waited for the bouquets to arrive and posed for pictures.

I had a few brief, but powerful moments with my mother, who stood at the door teary-eyed, admiring her daughter, dressed in a white gown, embroidered with white flowers. When it was my father's turn, he stood speechless before me. I can only imagine him comparing the woman before him, to the little girl he once held in his arms.

The months of planning, stress of figuring out what would fit in our tight budget, how many people we could invite (anger at those we "had" to invite but didn't want to), and all other negatives seemed to melt away in the folds of my gown.

Once the hubby-to-be was safely out of sight, I emerged for a few pictures before the ceremony to the "ahs and ohs" of those already seated. I felt like a beautiful fairy queen, surrounded by her ladies in waiting, emerging from her own private world into this one.

Then, it was time to go back in the room and wait until we got the okat to come out. I hadn't seen my love yet that morning, though I talked to him on the phone. Ours was one of those relationships where we'd become dear friends, who found out they were in love with each other. (Okay, so he did know way before I did... I was a little slow and very gunshy about love.)

I remember standing at the door, waiting to go outside. One by one my ladies-in-waiting/bridesmaids walked out into the sun to the music. I joked with my dad about envisioning the two of us being on a fishing trip, and how many fish we'd caught. He was nervous, and emotional. I remained strangely calm, and peaceful. Two ladies stayed behind to carry the train I hadn't planned on, but that was so perfect with it's white embroidered garden.

Then, there it was, that music that created the image of someone coming out of the morning mists into view. I stepped into the light, my arms on my father's, and his tears began to flow. Having a daughter of my own now, I can empathisize with him more so. We stepped forth, and I finally caught the view of the man who would soon be my husband. He too was dressed in white. I was glad we'd waited to see one another.

The ceremony was a blur, I barely remember the vows we spoke. It was just me and him, looking at one another. We exchanged rings, we kissed, and that fast, we were married. Then, we took more pictures, and lined up to enter the ballroom. There was food, dancing, laughing, dancing, dancing, cake, and more dancing. We danced until the last possible moment, went to get changed, then we were off to another party.

The next morning, our first together as a husband and wife, we held each other tenderly - with no clue as to what was in store.

Our first year was wrought with a few unexpected challenges, that provided us with growth and many lessons. Our second year was interesting as we made friends andprepared for impending parenthood. Our third year, we celebrated holding and feeding a tiny little angel in our arms. The next two years held more challenges, surprises, and lessons. And now, here we are today, celebrating our fifth year as husband and wife.

Looking back, I don't think I fully understood what marriage entailed or was, other than the next step in a relationship. I've always been fond of stories, and somehow bought into the "fairy tale" image. Which, if you knew my parents (now divorced), you'd think I'd know better. I'm not sure what I expected exactly, but I quickly learned, that I needed to change my expectations and embrace acceptance, or we were going to have problems.

When we got married, I quickly learned just how different my hubby was. He needed time alone; I was more social. He needed time alone; I wanted to do everything with him. I wanted things done my way - usually right now; he didn't feel that it was that urgent. I expected a lot from him that first year, and he still here.

Life has its own rhythm. There are days when you are right on target, feeling great, and lots of energy. Then, there are those days where your motivation has run off with energy. There's a rhythm to life, to the seasons... it's in everything - especially marriage.

For those of you who aren't married, and those who are, the best advice I ever got about being married, was to learn the rhythm of the relationship, and recognize it always moves and changes. There will be times when you are both so connected, you will amaze yourselves. There will be times when you need to be alone, times to be together, times when one wants one thing, and the other another. There will be times when you are not very pleased with your spouse, and other times, when you are blown away by their charm and love. There are times when you might feel disconnected; but you can always reconnect. Relationships blossom when you nuture them.

Over the past 5 years, we've really grown as a team, as a couple, as parents, and as individuals. So, we wanted to celebrate this anniversary in a way that was special to us, and that involved renewing our vows, recommiting to marriage (and what we've learned about it), only this time on our terms. We are still learning, still growning, and still investing in our marriage and family.

This last week, we've been preparing for a quiet ceremony of our own on the side of our friend's mountain. There will only be 3 witnesses as opposed to a slew of bridesmaids and groomsmen. We'll be wearing jeans and hiking boots. Hubby's hair, that he had to cut for our wedding (or his mom threatened not to come), is now past his mid-back. We've got a flower girl. There are many other connections I've been making between now and then, but the big one for me, is that we are planning to recommit ourselves to each other, release expectations, fear, worries, and general things in our lives that have been "holding us back" or blocking our growth. The people there to witness it, are already wonderful support systems in our lives, and on very similar paths.

So dearest love, as I know you read this, Happy Anniversary to you. It's been challenging, wonderful, and amazing. I feel like each step we take together provides us with a chance to grow. And to me, that's what marriage is about. Growing, expereincing, learning... and doing it together.

I am so blessed to have a partner like you that I can talk to about everything and anything. I am so grateful for our ability to work through things, and learn from things; for your willingness to work with me to change perspectives, make changes, and live healthier lifestyles. I appreciate the respect that we have always had for one another, but especially how it's grown. I really have grown to love and honor you, etc. etc. I just didn't get it as well as I do now.

In the last 5 years, there is still nothing better than being in your arms, your hugs, those whispered hand kisses, your smile, those backrubs late at night when I know you are tired and would rather be sleeping, and that feeling of connectedness we share.

I love you.

Being a parent

A recent post by Ed has got me thinking about being a parent. Well, that, and the fact that my sweet daughter kept us up most of last night. (Are you paying attention Ed and future parents?) You see, she was half asleep, half awake, and wouldn't stop crying. Some might say she had "night terrors" (you can google it yourself). I'm not sure what she had, but the lack of sleep my darling DH had, and myself, did not make for the most nurturing of situations at 3am this morning.

It's very challenging when you are overtired, stressed out, and the like, and your child is trying to express how she feels, without have the words or capabilities to do so. Believe me, it's frustrating for all parties. In other words, they won't stop crying, and they cry more when you ask what's wrong, getting even more upset. 9 out of 10 times, I'm totally capable of dealing with this in a loving, nurturing, rational manner. But it's those other times, when I'm suffering from sleep deprevation and stress, when being a parent can be very draining and challenging. Even more so when it's both parents.

So, always have a back up plan, step away for a bit to regain composure if you can, and remember, that children are probably just as frustrated that they can't communicate their needs or fears to you. Patience and understanding is a necessity, and helps when you find yourself so tired you can barely keep your eyes open, let alone comfort an upset child who won't sleep.

As to what her problem was. I asked her this morning why she cried so much last night, and she told me, "I don't know." Then, she wrapped her arms around me, and asked me if she could give me kisses. Like I'd say no.

Feeling kinda cluttered...

Everytime my in-laws return from Taiwan, we got lots of goodies. In my case 4 pairs of embroidered jeans, fancy beaded mauve-redish shoes (I think they're called mules), a gorgeous Asian styled shirt with a phoenix on it, a funky hair piece with a pink rhinestone pooch, and lots of jade jewelry. Pookie always gets clothes, lots more jade, shoes, and funky stuff. Hubby got 2 shirts, an Asian necklace, and jade. We also got a funky metal pot, that looks like a tea pot, but is actually for keeping wine warm or cold with four mini wine glasses. A wooden carved statue, a funky Asian-shaped like, two scrolls with water colored prints...Yes, my dear ILs can be very generous. My BIL and his gal got a ton of cool stuff too.

Add to this pookie's month of birthday gifts, Easter goodies shoved in the basement, gorgeous glass cranberry wine goblets from Mom for my birthday... and... well... I'm really running out of space here.

I've this urge to go down and randsack the basement where things are accumulating because we haven't put them away, and the pile to donate grows bigger going nowhere, plus, I need to go through clothes for consignment. It's become the ever-cluttered pit, and I hate it. I really, really want to get down there and start trashing stuff.

I went through my closet today to rearrange a few things, only to discover I really need to go through my clothes. I've fit in the Asian stuff... but it's getting crowded in there. Plus, since I've lost weight, I wanted to get clothes that actually fit my body, instead of clothes my body swims in. Although... I could just get out the trusted sewing machine and...

Maybe if Pook was feeling better, I'd go down there and work on something. In the meantime, I'm going to go and reorganize something to at least LOOK more spacious. ;)

Becoming a night owl? Just maybe...

Yes, it's the second late night for me, but I needed it. There's something about the quiet, undisturbed moments when the family is asleep. And, less chance of them waking up so late too. I can work in blissful conditions. It's become really challenging for me with the lil one as of late. And, with her not feeling up to her normal self, it can be challenging.

I'm very proud of myself though. I woke up this morning feeling out of sorts, actually quite down. But, after yoga (thanks Phil!), a nice shower, and the fact Pookie napped and I was able to get part 1 of a 4 part project done for review... well, I'm feeling much better. I'm thinking of putting together a list of things I can do to motivate me when I'm not feeling the least bit motivated. Suggestions anyone?

So, I'm now off to dreamland. I don't know how long this will work, but, I'm liking not feeling rushed while on the computer, and the fact that I can blog and putter about without guilt. It's quite nice. I could get used to this.

Late Night Musings

Okay, so for some of you out there (like Ed), it's probably rather early. But for me, who is usually in bed by 9:30 or so, it's late. I couldn't sleep, so I'm up, getting ahead on work so that I can be there for my sick lil gal tomorrow. The last two days she's been congested, thankfully the fever stopped this morning, and I can tell it's uncomfortable for her. I hate it when she's sick.

This evening though, I did draw some very interesting cards. First, my sweet lil one drew the "Inner Power" card for me. Then, I drew the following:

* Honor Your True Feelings
* Visualization
* Raise Your Standards

All of these were quite interesting, considering I drew them in the midst of a mini-panic attack induced by worry over things that haven't happened or might not even be an issue.

Recently, I've realized, that I had this tendency to create issues, barriers, roadblocks for myself - in a big way. In some ways, it's actually very powerful to know that I'm the one stopping myself. In other ways, it's quite frustrating trying to figure out why I'm doing this, and how I can stop.

Wouldn't it be cool if we could just push a button, and Shepow! Everything could be reset or changed as we'd like?

You've got the look, or not

My last post sparked more thoughts in regards to comparisons. We all do it. At some point, we end up comparing ourselves with another person. Whether it's the fashion model in the magazine, or the co-worker with that amazing gift of waiting until the last minute before busting out the perfect project or an idea that was so brilliant, you wish you'd thought of it. In some ways, I suppose it's human nature, but, in many ways, I think it's become detrimental.

When I was younger, my mother always told me that all I needed to do, was to find the traits that I admired in other women, and make them my own. My mother grew up with her chosen role models of strong women like Liz Taylor and Catherine Hepburn. And, if you know my mom, she really has adopted parts of these gals and is as strong-willed too. Thus, I grew up never really learning to look within myself and appreciate what I have, but to look outside. That was my mother's generation I think. That, and the fact she felt that my grandmother wasn't very strong.

My grandmother never liked confrontations, and was quite meek. Although, she can be as mischievious as anything when around people she's comfortable with. But, when it comes to strangers, or asserting herself, forget about it. My mother, on the other hand, asserts herself continually, as though she's fighting against an unfair world. The older she gets though, the more she acts like Grams though. (Shh... don't tell her!)

One of the main reasons I've been thinking about this whole issue of comparison, is due to my family. You see I come from a rather vain family, that consists of very physically beautiful people. I know this because everyone who sees pictures of them or meets them will tell me so. Continually. (I kid you not. My mother, who's in her 60's still gets flirted with, as does my father, and my brother, and I'm continually told that my grandmothers don't look a day over 70, even though they are both in their mid to late 80's.) So, I suppose in some way I've learned how to see the ugly and negative because of this. Not to mention the fact, growing up in a family of "gorgeous" people, and being told so, sometimes leaves me feeling like the ugly duckling. (I got the braces, glasses, acne, no "style", and awkwardness of the bunch.)

For a while, I told myself I was beautiful. Others told me I was beautiful (I did try to believe them). I acted like I felt beautiful. And then, I got the ultimate ego shock, when a girl who looked just like me ( a smaller version), was asked my a mutual friend to pose for photos, but not me. And then he'd ask other friends to pose for shots, but not me. Yes, can we say Ouch? My ego is still recovering from that bruise. So, I went back to being the ugly duckling. It was easier to accept. (So Phil, your comment, was beyond sweet. Thank you.)

Having my own daughter, who is extraordinarily beautiful (in looks and personality) to the point we are stopped in stores so people can complement us on her blue eyes and complexion, I've been a little concerned about this. Perhaps that's why my eyes are opening to how I see things around me. I see her as beautiful, but how will she see herself? Will she vainly know she is beautiful? Will she feel that she's not beautiful? Or, will she be blessed enough to see that not only is she beautiful, but so is everyone else? I hope so.

I love the new Dove ads, encouraging women to be beautiful as they are and in all shapes and sizes. It's been far too long that Victoria Secret models, Barbie dolls, and runway waifs have been the "ideal" for women I feel. I'm not a waif by any means. I'm curvacious, and have been since puberty. I've been told I'm beautiful, but could never really see myself as others saw me, and, well, I never really felt beautiful, save for a few times in highschool.

Last night though, I was blessed to be shown myself through the eyes of a dear friend. She described me as graceful, elegant, exotic looks, long legs, with an air about me that might cause some people to be a little intimidated to approach me, I think she even compared me to princess Diana (which bowled me over). When she first told me this, I was in denial. Me, graceful? Elegant... maybe. Exotic looks? Long legs? An intimidating air? No way. But then, I closed my eyes while she talked, and pretended that I was her watching me come into the room.

I let myself see what she saw. And when she told me that what drew her to me the most was the ever-present energy of loving-life, that was what made her want to know me more. I could see my smile, that mischievious twinkle in my eye, and my laugh. I've got a loud laugh, but I love to laugh and smile. I wasn't focused on the thighs, the tummy, the wrinkles, I just saw this elegant, graceful being, come into the room, sit down, laugh, smile, and greet others as they came into the room. Wow. I didn't compare myself to my mother, my cousins, or anyone else, because all I could see was ME.

I was radiant. I was filled with a vibrance for life I hadn't noticed. I was beautiful. How wonderful would it be, if we could all see the beauty within ourselves? Need an ego boost, want to see yourself from another angle, let me know. Because from today on, I'm focusing on only the beauty.

My friend asked me if I'd trade my looks, my inner self, who I am, and all I've been through to have the beauty and charisma I see in my mother. I couldn't spout "No way" fast enough. It was then I realized, I am really happy and in love with parts of myself. Now, it's time to embrace those other bits...

Random Monday Muddles

So I got a request to post more. :) Now, it's just a matter of making the time to do so. Hopefully, I'll get a chance to expand on these thoughts I've been having regards unconditional acceptance of the self.

If we truly accepted and loved ourselves as we are, unconditionally, would we be so judging of others? Would we be so unaccepting of others?

Lately I've noticed that when I look at pictures of other people, including myself, I'll notice the extra weight, wrinkles, the negative or "unpretty" stuff first. Obviously, I've learned this through me life. I keep wondering though, what would it be like to look at a picture (or person), and just see pure beauty instead of initially picking apart everything that I percieve as being "wrong" or "ugly"? I did make this connection though, in many ways, I believe there is a distinct connection as to how I perceive myself. I find this interesting.