through the years

Tomorrow marks sixteen years of marriage with a great man. Honestly, I'm not just spouting off. I never, in my younger years, thought I'd find that fairytale guy. As of late, I read so many women's magazines with articles about "No such thing as Prince Charming", "You can't find your soulmate", blah blah blah. Hooey! Found him. God yes, none of us are perfection personified, but each of us is perfect for someone else. Here are some of the qualities I admire in a man, and therefore in my man....
Loyalty to a fault. My husband stands up for me no matter what. And I'm not exaggerating. No matter what. If I'm wrong, he'll still fight for me because I am his wife. I love that.
Sense of humor. He is one of the funniest, most sarcastic people I know. The kids and I can quote his many sayings, like "there's a butt for every seat". One of my favorite things to do is sit back and watch him tell funny stories to his friends. Yes I've heard most of them many, many times; but there is no one who can weave a tale like my husband.
Strength. Mentally and physically. I dig it. It's manly.
Perserverance. Never, ever, ever gives up. On people and on himself. He is a powderkeg of determination. The pitbull of men.
Kindness. Something I see a lot and one of the first things that drew me in his direction (other than that cleft chin, great eyes, and a magnetic smile). He goes out of his way to help people. He is a natural volunteer. It makes him happy when he can help. I love that. My dad was my role model for what a man should be, and my husband has my dad's giving heart. Lucky, lucky me.
I could ramble on until your eyes roll back in your head, but fact is, it's been a terrific sixteen years. We are still raising our kids and watching them grow into fantastic adults. We deal with life's peaks and valleys, but we deal with them together. That is the beauty of a good marriage, love sprinkled with commitment. I'm happy I found it.

blessings

One of the reasons I like to volunteer is purely selfish. It makes me feel good to see good people doing good things. I am surrounded by bad news. Internet news, t.v. news, talk radio news, and those who just like to complain. I find it exhausting. When I go to any kind of volunteer event, I am struck by how tough it is to wallow in any kind of pity party. Most everyone in attendance is there to help. When you help, you're outside yourself. Your feelings become secondary. You put your energy into making whatever it is work. I find it life affirming to watch people give of themselves. Helping really does benefit the giver. We like to think it's pure selflessness to give. While there is a hope that one gives from their heart, so much is given back. It's like nourishment to me. It's the only thing I do that is good for me. It heals me every single day.
Today my kids and I picked up trash at a local site. Over 100 people volunteered their Saturday to help clean up a really big mess made by other people who simply didn't care. It was wonderful to see that area go from garbage to gorgeous in about four hours. But the best part were the participants. Not one ego among them. Just a bunch of people from all walks of life, young and old, picking up junk. We all felt good. It was satisfying to be there. It's the right thing to do. And really, can we all just sit around harboring bad news when there is so much good news to be made? I can't do it. Bad wears me out. Good brings me back.

day to day

This is a weird reality I'm in right now. Vivid dream images pervade my nights, courtesy of Ambien and a high dose of stressful living. Dreams where while you're in them, you feel clarity. When you wake up, you're a bit disappointed that it was only a mirage. My waking life has been like a comic strip, but less funny. Panels of events, one after the other, a way of compartmentalizing things. A way of coping with the current discord of my existence. Each day is a struggle to make it to the next without losing my piece of mind. Where did my normal life go? The one whose only worry was what to cook for dinner that night? I'll tell you where it went. Somewhere in the middle of the night, it jumped a train to parts unknown. I didn't ask it to leave, it just did. This is the new normal which begs the question, is there a normal? Not really. Life is constantly fluctuating. There are times that are more tolerable than others, and maybe that is what we'd like to be the norm. More often than not, life is using us as a punching bag, we either bounce back or fight the impact. Some days I choose to fight, some I just jump on for the ride and take my bruises as they come. Each day I manage to find a gem of good tidings from a friendly hello or a pick-me-up project that I can dump my thoughts into. Reality is a helix of mind-bending emotion, a twisting test of optimism on a daily basis. The nice thing is we simply have to get up in the morning to see what it brings.

canine angst

My dog and I have a love/hate relationship. Mostly, I love him. We have spent most of the summer together, doing three mile walks at the lake. He trots along beside me on his weary days, runs ahead when he's feeling frisky. Like me, he sometimes wakes up exhausted already and wants little to do with a trek by the water. On one of his final walks this vacation, he was so hot that he walked directly into the lake, laid down on his stomach and rolled onto his side. When he quickly realized that his ear was filling with water, he ditched that idea.
Now work has begun. I no longer have my mornings free. Neither my dog or I are enthralled with missing our morning walks. We are both crankier. I'm not sleeping well, he's not happy. He has turned his frustration into anti-housebreaking sneak attacks and excessive barking. I have turned my frustration into bouts of eating and starving with no rhyme or reason. Insomnia is ruling the night and my dog is losing his mind. Very soon we will both be forced by impending girth and depression into rerouting our schedule. We will find a happy medium. We will return to a level PH. Something we both can live with that won't drive us to intolerance. We love each other, so we will find a way to work things out.

sustainable hope

For the past two or three weeks I have had horribly depressing dreams. Lack of control and devastating events lurk in my brain nightly. It is wearing me out. I know enough about the subconscious mind to realize it's a way of dealing with my stresses on the inside when I don't want to cope with them on the outside. I'm usually pretty good at staying focused on the positive, but I am coming to grips with the reality that this is beginning to be a struggle for me on the worst of days. If I look back through my adult life, I can watch these struggles come and go, but lately it's become a little overwhelming at times. Here's how I cope. I stuff it. I bake. I bake. I bake some more. Not good. Anyhow, it is what it is. Trying to turn my frustrations in other directions. Painting, writing, walking the dog. Good, positive, healthy things. Sometimes these things win, often they lose. But, it's the process and I think the more I do them, the easier they will come.
But back to dreaming. Last night was the creme de la creme of depressing dreams. I know where it came from. Loss. Feeling a lot of it lately. The beginning of empty nest, new job which meant leaving my old one, which lead to the loss of my comfort zone, loss of self, loss loss loss...ick. Tired of loss. I know it's just a phase and life will get better. It's changing. The new reality is stepping in with a clunk and it's time to let it in. Let it in or it will stomp you flat. Remember that self, it WILL stomp you flat. Focus. Focus. There are so many good people out there. I will seek them out and remember why I love life, trust God, and keep some naivete. The best part of living.

midlife mellow

Hot flash hiatus. I am rarely bored. But today was one of those days where I lacked motivation to do much of anything interesting. While I was pondering my extremely slow day, I realized that I've had virtually no hot flashes this summer vacation. Maybe one. One very mild one. This is from a woman who gets them pretty much daily for the past year or so. What, pray tell, do I owe this bonanza to? Process of elimination leads me to one thing, less multitasking.
But I live for multitasking. My whole adult life has been one big string of multitasking. Summer has meant no work, fewer obligations, less volunteering. Yes, I'm still driving my kids around to their various summer activities and going on my daily grocery store trips, but life has slowed down considerably. And you know what? For the first time in years, I've really enjoyed it. I like getting up on a warm morning, taking a long leisurely walk with my dog at the lake, heading off for a cold soda, and coming back home to enjoy my day. I must be getting older. There's a lot to be said for being busy, but I don't feel like saying anything right now. I'm just reveling in the peace and hot flashless days of summer.

reality check

Ok. So there I was a couple hours ago, scooping M&M cookie dough onto cookie sheets when my daughter's friend asked me "Why DO you bake so much?" She said it with sincerity, and it went through my chest like a dagger. My daughter stopped and looked at me. She mumbled a few words because she knows this is one of those subjects I'm hypersensitive about. She said "obsession?", I said, "yes". She said, "addiction?", I said "yes". She never assumed I just enjoy baking, because who would when you bake the same thing over and over again. It's not like I'm testing recipes or working at a bakery. I'm spooning the same dough over and over again. It's a problem. She asked me if I eat the cookies. I said, "not really. I just eat the dough." Again, ugh. Will it stop me? No. Should it? Yes. Life is like that sometimes.