Random Information About Yours Truly

If I could, I would sleep until 11:00 every single morning simply because I am a night owl and I seem to get my most restful sleep after 8 am.

My life is so different today than I would have ever pictured it 5 or 10 years ago. And I am humbly grateful for that.

I would really like to move out of the country, if only for a little while. Australia...maybe South America.

Having our first child scared me to death.

Having our second child scared me to death.

Having our third child is currently scaring me to death.

Being a Mom scares the holy living shit out of me. It is so much responsibility on so many levels.

I prepare an Arby's Roast Beef sandwich the same way I always have. I dissect it, put half the meat back on the sandwich, add ketchup and horsey sauce, put the rest of the meat on it, add more ketchup and horsey sauce, then put the top bun back on. That is the only way I will eat it.

The older I get the less I give a crap about what people think. Or maybe it has more to do with getting busier.

The older I get the more selective I have become in choosing friends. I am blessed with friends that have been by my side for...oh, 20 years. Those friends are simply family. I have friends I have met more recently that I would not know what to do without. If I am friends with someone it is because I genuinely want to spend time with them, not just because they are someone who lives close-by and the friendship is convenient.

If I could go work with the guys from Antique Archaeology every day I would probably be in heaven. That kind of stuff is in my blood and it is genetic for sure. Our boys will sit and watch "the junk show" (their term, not mine) all day long.

Even though it is not fancy and flashy I would not trade my engagement and wedding band for something more extravagant if you paid me.

I would, however, wear something awesome on my right hand!

I have a 'thing' for argyle.

I have a 'thing' for cookie dough.

I have a 'thing' for mushrooms sauteed in butter.

I genuinely love to cook, when I have the time.

I am sure I will think of more, but now it is time for bed!

To Judge or Not to Judge

The friends I have here in North Dakota are wonderful. Two of my friends I met at the local coffee shop/thrift store. Yep. They combine them here; that is now North Dakota rolls. It rocks. Anyhow, these ladies are blessings from God and I thank Him regularly for allowing our paths to cross.  Two of my other friends I met through CMG; one is the wife of Larabee’s supervisor and the other is the wife of my ex-supervisor. Again, I am so thankful to have them in my life. In fact, I am thankful that they are not only in my life but in the lives of my husband and our children as well.

With Kyle being in Head Start I really thought it would be a great opportunity to make friends with some of the other Moms, that way play dates would be easy to get. When I started working more during the day I became completely disinterested in making friends with my fellow HS parents because I simply had no time to do so. Of course, we exchange pleasantries outside of the room while waiting for the kiddos to get done with their day. We say hi to each other in the store or at the post office. Very superficial, very low maintenance.

In all of the time I have ‘known’ some of the other parents, I will admit that I have formed some pretty solid opinions about what type of people they are. I try really hard not to judge others, especially if I do not know them in any way. I guess it is a bit harder not to judge someone if you feel you know them on some level, no matter how little you really know them. Additionally, I guess I somehow forgot that judging is judging. Voicing your judgmental opinions to others? You are judging people. Thinking judgmental thoughts? Yep….still judging people. Just because you do not say it out loud does not make it any less wrong.

Anyhow, the mother that has been bearing the brunt of my internal judging is the reason I am writing this post. Up until today I knew that she has 5 children; one son and one daughter (I think) older than her son in HS, her son in HS, a daughter who is a bit older than Kaleb, and a baby girl born about 3 weeks ago. The oldest two have the same dad, which I believe was her first husband. The youngest 3 have the same dad, who is still in the picture and who is her boyfriend. She seems to be an….unenthusiastic mother on many levels, and not just because she has so many kids or just because she just had a baby. She just seems sort of ho-hum about the whole parenting thing. See. Judging.

Today, while waiting for the kids to get out of class, we started talking and somehow our conversation led to her years growing up. Recently there was a lice outbreak at the school, of which this mother knew nothing. She said that she had lice a few times growing up and that it was terrible. Then she said that when you are living in a group home nobody can make fun of you for having lice because it is likely all the kids there have lice.

Wait a minute; back the truck up. Group home? I just nodded and let her keep talking, which essentially meant she told me that she grew up in the Denver ghettos and was in and out of group homes and foster care basically her whole childhood.

Ok. So maybe this woman views parenting differently than I do. Does that give me the right to judge her? So she is a little ho-hum….but maybe that is just her personality. Maybe she is WAY more patient than I am and is, ultimately, a better mother than I am for it. Or maybe, just maybe, parenting is not a damn contest that we are all automatically entered into when we bring new life into this world. Maybe we should all just leave each other alone and stop judging every gosh darn little thing the other does or does not do exactly as we think it should be done.

That 5 minute conversation began innocently and then lead to her sharing a bit more about herself, which made me feel like a loser for having preconceived notions about her…oh wait…. I mean JUDGING her when I really had no idea who she was or what she was about. I got a very good reality check today. I need to be a nicer person and think nicer things about people.

In all honesty, she is a great Mom. Her childhood was unstable and very difficult. She might have 5 kids by two fathers, but she takes care of all of her kids. They are home with her every night. They are fed and clothed and clean and healthy. They are well-mannered and kind children. She is doing a good job. She is not following the same path that her own Mom did. Her children are not scattered to the wind.

She is someone I would like to know more about.

She is someone I would be honored to call my friend.

Now I am off to work on becoming nonjudgmental in my own mind.

Pray for me.

**Edited to clarify that I did not mean to imply that having children by different fathers is 'bad' or something that should be judged. I meant to imply that many people would judge others because of something like that. Her Mom had 4 kids by one father, so I guess that was in my mind too; that she was different than her Mom in that way.

Looking Back

It is amazing how one small decision can create a snowball effect that takes your life off of one path and onto another in a nanosecond. We often get so wrapped up in the big decisions that we forget that lives are probably changed more drastically by the small decisions. We forget that our past helped to shape our present, as well as our future.

Today I was able to reminisce a bit, my memories leading me down paths covered with dust and littered with cobwebs. Paths that I seldom walk anymore, not for lack of wanting, but instead for lack of time. When I do pull out the broom and dust off those paths I can see that they are well traveled. It becomes obvious that they are beaconing me to visit once more and are more than willing to embrace me while I am there. The further down the paths I travel the more hazy the memory, victims of time and space. Sweeter memories remain bright, as do more solemn memories. The memories that seem to escape me are the small ones, the ones that seemed so insignificant at the time and for months after their occurrence. At some point those memories jump out at me, begging to be seen, desperately wanting me to understand that they were, indeed, significant in their own way.

My walk down memory lane today was triggered by a chat with an old friend. An old friend who happens to be a boy. An old boyfriend. Well, actually, he is a young friend. He is younger than me, and the only person I ever dated that was younger than me. But, prior to holding the esteemed title of my boyfriend, we were simply friends. We belonged to a group that is now scattered in the wind, a group that once spent great deals of time together, and has since gone on with our respective lives. We keep in touch here and there, but not the way we probably should. But just enough to help us remember.

Through this conversation, via Facebook Chat, I felt a well-known tug in my stomach. This tug was not that of nerves or of anticipation, nor was it the tug of despair. No, instead it was the tug of the familiar. It was the physical reaction to a mental waterfall of memories, emotions, and feelings. It was laughing at a shared experience that, at the time, seemed like the most embarrassing thing in existence. It was a small smile creeping onto my face at the knowledge that I made an impact in his life just as much as he did in mine. It was marveling at how, after feeling that he has hated me for so long, I feel as if we are friends again in the truest sense of the word, if not necessarily the most active sense. It was understanding that it is perfectly alright to look back at your past and not regret a single thing, and honestly feel in your heart that you do not regret it. I pray that he knows no regrets and that he experiences the glorious freedom of living a life with no regret. I will concede that the tug I felt did have a few attachments to my heart, and it would be silly and a bit immature of me to deny that. I loved this person for several years with all of my being. I expected to build a life with this person, have children with this person, and grow old beside this person. Even after we went our separate ways, part of me hoped against hope that we would find our way back to each other and that the barriers to our relationship would suddenly fall. I do not believe that our hearts are at all capable of loving someone and then unloving someone in a lifetime. Instead, I feel that our hearts have boundless capacity for love and that we should savor every ounce of love we can give or receive. Our hearts remember what our minds choose to forget. While you may no longer be in love with someone does not mean that you are incapable of feeling some variation of love toward that person. Admitting this does not make you any less in love with your husband or wife. It only demonstrates the depth and breadth of the human heart.

I am thankful for my life. I am unworthy of my husband. I am entirely, utterly, madly beyond indebted to God for our children, as they are my soul and my meaning. I would not go back and change a single day of my life, a single moment, a single second, if that meant the possibility of altering my present. There are few things in this life that I know for certain, but that is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, one of them. I feel that with my whole being, leading me to believe in the validity of that feeling.

That being said, I am continually thankful for every experience, every person, every wrong turn or misstep, every left that should have been a right, every mistake and every success. I am thankful for those who were a part of my life, and who remain a part of my life if only in memory. I am thankful every time I reconnect with someone who knew me ‘then’, who knew me before I became who I am today, who helped me become who I am today, each in their own special way. Some days I want nothing more than the opportunity to sit down with my old group of friends and relive our shared past in a way that can only happen through togetherness. I envy those who never left home, who have the ability to relive the past on a daily basis. At the same time, I mourn them for the simple reason that I worry they will never fully appreciate what the past means to the present. I long for a coffee date, or a drive through the old neighborhood, or a siesta complete with a few beers, so long as old friends are included. I desire this not for impure reasons, not because I am unhappy, and not because I want to recreate something that no longer exists. I desire this so deeply because I have come to the point in my life that I wish only to dust off memory lane, remove the cobwebs in my mind, and remember how things used to be alongside those who lived it with me. Perhaps time will bring us back together for just such an event. One can only hope. Until then, I will try my best to remember how thankful I am, how much love I have given and received, and how much more I have to look forward to.