It's the Little Things

I love Sunday mornings.  It might be my favorite part of any day.  I especially like it when Ryan is home and not working, because we curl up on the couch under a blanket, sip coffee, eat breakfast, and he lets me read him things I find of interest while I peruse the Huffington Post.  Even if he doesn't find them as interesting or sometimes infuriating as I do, he pretends well.  This morning I found this gem.  As I read these out loud to Ryan, we both decided we do about three of those things in different variations than the article depicts, and then talked about a few other things we could think of if we made our own list.

We went about our day after that, going on a hike, I helped Ryan haul some firewood, normal household chores, but that article kept coming back to the forefront of my mind while we had this normal day together.  I began to think about how many articles I see on the regular about how couples irritate, annoy, anger, each other and how to fix it.  I am completely aware relationships are far from perfect for anyone, they take work, daily work, but I commonly see articles expressing the negatives and not really celebrating the positive, the day to day.  So, I have decided to make my own list.  Not a list of what Ryan and I do to annoy each other, but just a few of the many reasons I love him and how he's made me smile in the last 48 hours.

1.  When we decided to grab a very quick lunch in between all the other things we decided to do on Saturday, and we unwrapped our corn dogs and mine was burnt, he took it out of my hand and gave me his non-burnt corn dog.

2.  Instead of watching Sports Center on Sunday morning, he tells me I can watch "Say Yes to the Dress", because he knows it's what I do every Sunday morning when he's at work, even though he doesn't say that.

3.  When I complain for the 25th time the light in my bathroom isn't working, he fixes it for the 25th time.

4.  He paints the ceiling in my shower yellow, one of my favorite colors, even though it's his least favorite color in the world, as a surprise for me.

5.    He rubs my back almost every single night knowing it helps me relax and puts me to sleep.

He continues to do all these small daily thoughtful things, even after I have grabbed Twizzlers out of hands on countless occassions and thrown them across the room, just because every time I do it he still has a look of surprise on his face that makes me laugh until I cry.  (Perhaps I need to work on doing more little things or him!)

Times, they are a changin'.

A big change occurred in my life on September 29, 2014.  For the first time in 13 years, I was not living on my own.  On October 26, 2012 I went on a blind date, with this high energy, up for anything, guy who took me on a whirlwind of a first date.  I had never experienced a first date quite like that one. For example, he stated multiple times if he had a papoose he would pick me up and carry me around in it, so I didn't have to walk around in my heels.  That was definitely a first for me.  But that whirlwind date, and that charismatic guy, swept me up, and one month shy of our 2 year anniversary, we moved in to our first home together. 

Anyone who has lived on their own for a significant period of time and then joins their belongings and life with another person, no matter the amount of love they have for each other, and says it's a beautiful easy transition, is a liar.  It's not easy.  It's hard.  It's stressful, and it's at times completely and utterly overwhelming. It's also, undeniably worth it.  We have worked hard at making this our home, a reflection of our life together in this moment, and I could not be happier. 

Here are a few pictures to document our new journey so far:

The day we got the keys to our home!

Goodbye  apartment 11!

Mailbox official!

Our garden guys looking comfortable in their new home.

My dressing room, my happy place!

The day I came home from work to find Ryan had surprised me with Dia de la Muertos mums.

Pictures I have taken from our hikes and framed for art above our bed.

Fall settling in to our front yard.  We have a yard!

  

When Did We Put A Deadline on Love?

Lately I have noticed a trend of not just people posting "bucket lists", but "specific age bucket lists" on facebook or Pinterest, or whatever social media site is hip now.  For instance, "Things to Accomplish by My 20th Birthday" or 25, 27, 30, whatever.  I have my own working bucket list, so I have nothing against making a list of life goals, desires, wants, so forth.  Actually I love making lists, my life would not function without lists, and I sure as hell would get nothing accomplished at work if I didn't have the 15 fluorescent colored post it notes telling me what to do on my desk, computer, phone, any surface a note can be stuck to, really.  It does make me cringe a little though when I see young women, late teens/early twenties, posting goals with narratives having to do with relationship status, or parenthood status.  For example, "If I'm not married with 2 children by the time I'm 25, my life will not be complete", or "If I haven't fallen in love with the man I'm going to marry by the time I'm 27, I just give up on love", and so it goes.  Now, I was never the little girl who played house, pretended to be a bride, or a wife, or a mommy, I know a lot of women who were, women I love and admire, I just was never one of them. (And, that's not to say I never want to be any of those things, but as a little girl I was nursing stuffed animals back to health, reading, riding my bike, playing softball, and chopping off all of my Barbies hair).  I also don't think any of those things; bride, mommy, wife, are bad things or should not be included on bucket lists, I do however believe putting a deadline on those things, can cause way more damage than good.

What happens when these "goals" don't become attainable?  What happens when a young girl makes the married with a kid by 25 goal and what happens instead is;  start dating someone at 20, get married by 22, have a child by 23, get overwhelmed and realize you have no idea who you are or who the person is  you married, and get divorced by 25?  Or the person who HAS to be in love with the man she's going to marry by 27, what happens when she's still dating dirt bags at 27, and completely gives up?  She misses out on potential great romances that could begin at 28 or 29 or 37!  Or what happens when you've set your ultimate goal of being a parent by a certain age, and your body or your significant other's body just won't cooperate with what you've pre-determined? 

I firmly believe setting goals can be productive and positive in life, but I will never believe pre-determining an age for love and family to be productive to a life of happiness.  To those who attain, bravo, but to all those who do not, I cannot imagine the disappointment and pain they may be setting themselves up for.  When did the ultimate goals for women become your relationship status and whether or not your were a parent by a certain age anyway?  Again, I believe those are two important and admirable things to be in this life, but it does not define who you are as a person living this life.  I confess, I am a 35 year old, unmarried, non-parent, and my life is pretty great! I have a family who loves and support me, friends who stand by me through all sorts of crazy, a relationship that lifts me up and makes me a better person and pushes me out of my comfort zone, (and I was still dating dirt bags at 27!) a job that fulfills me, and a life that makes me happy.  ( I do still have a shitty apartment, so that's number one on my bucket list, "buy house to get away from dealing with assholes who smoke in the community laundry room, and complain because water from my plants is leaking down the balcony").

So for all you young women making your bucket lists, let's stop putting an age limit on finding love.  Let's instead find out who you are as a person, who you are at 22, 25, 27, 30, 35....and use pencil on those lists, so you can add and subtract to it as you go in life, as your interests change, as you change.   

Do As I Say, Not As I Do

I am guilty.  Guilty of what I can only assume 99.9% of women are guilty of, talking and thinking negatively about our bodies.  To be real, I have, as long as I can remember, always had trouble with negative thinking when it comes to my body.  For the majority of my teen and adult years, I have, in my mind always been too thick, too curvy, too short, too chunky, too flabby, and the list goes on.  I've used all those words to describe myself at some point in my life.

As a teen I was active, athletic, a gym rat, and then I went to college. And like, some who went before me, and some who will go after me, I spent less and less time working out and more and more time going out, and I paid for it.  I gained, not just the freshman 15, maybe more accurately the undergrad 25. (I know...but I went to a party school, and I was good at it!).  About three weeks following my college graduation I started my first "professional" job as a social worker.  That job was challenging to say the least, and I spent many long hours driving all over the state of KS, dealing with crises I was not ready to deal with, seeing and hearing trauma I was not prepared to see and hear, and dealing with it by shutting down, smoking lots of cigarettes, sitting in a car driving on long empy highways for hours on end, and eating whatever fast food was available in whatever small town I was driving out of on my way to the next.  I became a person I did not recognize, physically and mentally, and I knew I had to change something before the girl I once knew had completely disappeared.  So, I quit my job, without a job on the horizon, and decided it was time to get healthy, both mentally and physically.

In a month's time I had a new job, which could not have been a more perfect fit for me and how I envisioned my life as a social worker ( that job was so perfect for me, I'm still doing it!), and had started a healthy eating and exercise plan.  As time went on, I became recognizable again to my friends and family, and most importantly myself, and I ended up shedding about 35 pounds. Pounds that accrued due to my inability to manage my life, or really care enough at that point, to have the self realization I was self sabotaging in every way.

After my initial weight loss, I had never felt more confident in every area of my life.  I had found my groove in my professional career, and once I found it, I have always felt confident about the work I do.  I felt confident in the people I had surrounded myself with, my friends, old and new, and I felt confident about my body.  I finally felt like I looked good!  I was excited to go shopping, I wanted to buy swim suits.  Swim suits! Working out was part of every one of my days, always. That was eleven years ago.

I maintained that state of mind for several years, and it is only in the recent year or so that I have felt those old negative feelings creeping back into to mind.  Have I stopped working out as much as I should?  Yes.  Have I gained more weight than I would like to admit? Yes.  More than I am happy with?  Absolutely.  Have I used those old words to describe the current state of my body?  Yes.  But, am I happy in my life? YES!  I am so happy with my life as it is currently.  I have a lot of things going really well in my life right now.  And this body, that I have put so much emotional, physical stress on over the years, has always kept me healthy, kept me alive.  I know I need to make changes again to my workout regime, my eating routine, and I'm working on it, but I have to find a way to be happy about where my body is right now, today, April 8, 2014 at 9:00pm.

I work with young girls, pre-teens, teens, even younger who struggle with body image issues every day.  I have a five year old niece, and I always want her to know she is beautiful, but that she is also so amazingly strong, and resilient, and powerful, and in charge of her own destiny.  I want that for all the children I work with, and I don't want the insecurity about how their body may or may not look, hold them back in any way, and I can't allow it to hold me back.  I am a constant work in progress, as we all are, but I am working everyday on this issue that has once again reared it's ugly head in my life, to silence the negative and work on the positive, not just for me, but for all beautiful strong girls and women in my life.

Self Awareness Weekend

This weekend, I had no real plans, but I ended up learning a few things about myself.  In no particular order:

1.  I have the ability to run up a rocky incline through thorny bushes quicker than I would have thought, in order to escape a swarm of little black bugs attacking my face, and only realize after the fact, I am covered in thorns.

2.  There is absolutely no way I would ever survive on the show Naked and Afraid.

3.  I do not like Ugli fruit.

4.  Although I was very skeptical about spending a significant amount of money on pure hiking shoes, because they have no real aesthetic value to me, I am very grateful I did.  They may be the most comfortable shoes I have ever owned, and helped me immensely in my escape from the black bugs.

5.  I have lived in this city 13 years and am just now experiencing some of it's best beauty, thanks to my outdoors man boyfriend.

6.  When told the apartment below me is having plumbing issues and I cannot use the bathroom or run the shower in my apartment, I have never felt dirtier or had to go to the bathroom more than in that time period my entire life.

7.  I really need a place where I can have a dog.  I need a dog in my life.

8.  If I see the Cox cable commercial about the catchphrase, "Can't get that with satellite."  I will spend the rest of the day sporadically shouting out, "Can't get that with satellite, WHAT!"

Baby It's Cold Outside

As I type this I sit cozily on my couch wrapped up in a soft warm blanket, in my warm over sized sweatshirt, my leggings, and my slippers, with snow steadily coming down outside my window.  It really is a beautiful sight to watch,  the white blanket covering everything from trees, to cars, to streets, but as I stare at it, all I can think is, the only thing I like about winter, is my wardrobe.  I know how that sounds, but I cannot stand the cold.  I only think it's pretty to watch the snow, because I'm not out in it. Sure the snow is pretty, but it's going to freeze over and turn into an extremely dangerous ice rink when the windchill drops to negative anything and the high for the day is 4.  And then when it's done being a menace to safety it's going to melt and turn to a dirty slushy mess, making it turn from a pristine white to a grimy black sludge that ends up covering everything.  But you know what doesn't change colors, or consistencies with the below freezing, freezing, barely above freezing temperatures, my large collection of  inviting, snugly, sweaters.  I may hate the winter, but I cannot pass up a giant cowl neck, over sized sweater to save my life.  I can't help myself, it's a problem.  I know this is not some earth shattering, deep thinking, call for social justice blog post, it's actually kind of a vapid post, but in this moment, it's exactly what I was thinking about.

In all seriousness, my Kansas friends, and friends already impacted, be safe in this beastly cold front making it's way to us, it will be dangerously cold, not something really to joke about.  Stay inside.  Do not get out unless it is an absolute necessity, and snuggle up with a loved one on the couch under a warm blanket with a cup of hot cocoa, hopefully wearing a cozy sweater.

All Due Respect

I had an experience a few days ago, that I've continued to think about since it happened, and every time that happens I know I need to get that experience out, I need to purge a little on what happened and how it made me feel and why it has continued to nag at me for the past three days.  I was recently in a very small cafe in another city.  You walked in the door and there was a counter, approximately five tables and four booths along the wall.  The maximum capacity couldn't have been over 40 people.  Upon walking in the door, more like being blow in the door, as it was an insanely blustery day, there was a gentleman sitting in the first booth by the door.  This man was very friendly, although his speech was not understandable he gave me a greeting as I walked in the door with a smile on his face.  This man also appeared as though sitting in that booth drinking a cup of hot coffee, may be the best part of his day.  It also very well may have been one of the few places he would be all day that would be a warm environment surrounded by people, and not be out walking the streets on a cold blustery fall day, as it seemed possible he may have been homeless.  Now, because I was at this cafe right around the lunch hour, and due to it's limited seating after placing our order, my co-worker and I had nowhere to sit, as all the booths were taken. As we were standing patiently waiting for a seat, there were two booths of women who had finished eating but were just sitting talking to each other, the man who greeted us, got up and went outside for a cigarette.  It was very clear he was planning on coming back inside; he was just outside the door and had left his cup of coffee on his table.  As soon as the man walked out the door, one of the tables of ladies got my attention and let me know if we wanted a table we better hurry up and sit down while the man was outside.  I politely told the table of women we would not be stealing that man's table, as he was clearly coming back. One of the women again urged us to sit down quickly before he came back, and again I informed her we would not be doing that.  Her response was, "Oh what is he, like a staple here?"  Should it matter?  Overhearing our conversation, the second table of ladies, acknowledged they were done eating and we were welcome to have their table.  Unfortunately, once again because of the limited space there were other people waiting for a table so the staff cleared the man's coffee when another patron asked to sit there.  Not thirty seconds after, the man re-entered the cafe with his coffee and his table being gone.  Now, he, who was there first, was forced to stand, and had to purchase another cup of coffee because his had been removed.

This whole exchange bothered me in the moment and has continued to bother me through the weekend.  When did people stop giving others the respect they deserve?  When did it become okay to shun people or disregard them, because they are different?  That first table of women couldn't urge us to sit down fast enough.  Was it because they didn't want him sitting behind them, or in the same restaurant as they were?  It was very disheartening for me to see that kind of blatant disregard for another person, a complete lack of respect for another human being.  A person who had been nothing but friendly and polite who had likely been seeking a little refuge in this cafe, why should he be made to feel like he wasn't enough?  He was a paying customer.  He had every right to be there, and every right not to feel judged.  I've decided this whole exchange bothered me so much, because perhaps I'm not always the person I wish to be.  I have judged too quickly, I don't always consider everything another person may be going through without passing judgement, and that is something I plan on working on, being a better all around person, and being a better person to those around me.  So during this season of thankfulness (which by the way should not just be the 30 days of thanks that is my facebook news feed this month, it should be every day throughout the year) I'm also going to try and make it a season of self- improvement, a season of self reflection, and a season of helping and a season of respect.  I hope you all will as well.