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Misery Loves Company

I consider myself a fairly upbeat person.  I believe that most people are innately good and are not always looking out for number one.  I tend to trust - maybe overly so - people at their word.  Negativity in others irritates me; in myself causes self-deprecation.  I try really hard to not let the little things get to me and I consider most things little.  Life is too short to be miserable. I know that everybody has bad moments, trials, tribulations, and poor luck.  How we deal with these moments often determines how well those moments turn out in the end and how long the moment affects us.  When we attempt to shoulder the burdens alone, we are dragged longer and deeper into despair. When we share our frustrations with others, we find unexpected ideas and methods for coping and possibly solving the problem. "Others" may be a licensed therapist, a certified counselor, a degreed professional.  Some problems need that kind of company.  Most of the time we just need a friend wi

Should've Put Something On It

Not many Superbowl Halftime Shows get much publicity once the show is over. Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction was probably the last major snafu to cause an uproar.  This unfortunately isn't an indication that fashion faux pas are few and far between.  But for the most part, the unclad music celebrities keep their immodesty sequestered to shows where the paying guests know the risk they take when they buy the tickets.  The Superbowl is a family affair.  For some it is a huge party attended by football or food lovers of all ages. For others it is a more intimate affair. The Superbowl has had over 100 million viewers each of the last 3 years.  It stands to reason that a fair percentage of those viewers were children.  I have two daughters who chose to play outside on the tire swing during the halftime show. The 8 year old has a keen sense of fashion and has her mother's fetish for shoes. The 7 year old still wears sweaters with shorts and stripes with polka dots. We

Figuring Out Boundaries

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I spent the day with my 4th grader's class on a field trip.  I had requested the day off of work as I often feel that my son misses out on mommy time as I am too regularly focused on my 3rd grade daughter who has been going through a clingy stage for about 2 years now.  In some ways, she is actually easier to figure out.  I know she always wants me around and asks days in advance about which days I have off so that she can request that I have breakfast with her or spend the whole day.  Last year I spent equal amounts of time between her class and Little Bit.  Nicholas rarely asked for me to come to his class and I suspected that he was figuring out how much independence he wanted.  Occassionally I would catch a glimpse that he needed me more than he was willing to admit.  And since he was in the same building as the girls, it was easy for me to slip into his class to let him know I was around without crowding or embarrassing him.  This year he moved to the outer building and access

Happy Birthday Little Bit

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Today my baby turns 7.  Rachel wasn't due for another week but quite honestly I was tired of being pregnant.  She was my last pregnancy and an unexpected one at that.  After Cierra had been born we looked into permanent prevention.  We decided that Neil would undergo the necessary procedure as it was less invasive and quicker recovery.  Everything was set but on the day he was to go in, his blood pressure was too high and the doctor chose not to perform the procedure.  A few months later I took a trip to visit a friend, came home to an anxious husband, and ended up pregnant.  This began a whirlwind of changes in our lives. Quickly, the house became too small, as were the cars, the paychecks, and my patience.  In fact, the only thing getting bigger was my belly.  We considered adding on to the house, but decided that the inconvenice of "under construction" would not bode well with the "under construction" my body was already dealing with.  So we house hunted,

Mom's Aren't Allowed to Get Sick

It's an unspoken rule.  No, it's a rule I have spoken many times in my life.  Especially since becoming a mom.  Mom's aren't allowed to get sick.  We don't have time to be sick.  Our children will suffer horrible lives if we get sick.  The world as they know it will end.  And yet, as much as I chant this mantra, I am fighting with getting sick.  The "New Flu" hit early last week. Both Neil and Cierra spent Sunday night tagteaming the toilet.  I finally moved to the couch.  My one day to sleep in (MLK Day meant no school for the kids and I wasn't supposed to work) turned into a sleepless night and I had to go to work anyway to cover a co-worker's shift who had also succumbed to the flu or the cold or herpes.  Not sure exactly, but it meant that I was now facing day 3 of 10 work days in a row.  Day 3 isn't that bad, except that it was accompanied by sick family members who wanted to be taken care of.  I can do this. I'm the mom. I'm not a

At a Loss

My heart hurts.  When I logged on to Facebook today, the first post I saw was about the passing of a friend's mother.  Her parents had been visiting and on their way back were in a head-on collision.  Her father and the other driver walked away unharmed. Her mother was killed.  As I read my friend's words, I felt such sorrow for her loss.  She is a member of the LDS Church and both she and her parents have an understanding of the plan of salvation which includes eternal life where families are forever.  And I know she has felt some peace as the Holy Ghost has comforted her over the last two days.  But I also sense her pain which only time can ease. I never met her parents.  I haven't seen her in close to ten years.  We lost touch then found each other on Facebook last year.  She doesn't post often and we haven't talked personally.  I couldn't understand why this impacted me so much.  But each time I receive a notification that somebody else has commented on he

When Tragedy Becomes Personal

On December 14, 2012 an elementary school in Connecticut was attacked viciously and lives were changed forever.  On December 14, 2012 everybody seemed to have a theory on how this might have been prevented.  On December 14, 2012 global awareness was raised on a number of subjects.  On December 14, 2012 I was at work and only heard tidbits of information as customers mentioned what had happened, what had been reported, and chimed in with their own theories.  In the following days more rhetoric was spewed and posts abounded on Facebook. News stories continued to report versions of the truth.  In church that following Sunday we were informed that one of the victims was a member of the LDS Church and that the father had made a statement.  The sister teaching Relief Society had known the parents of that child individually prior to them having been married and creating a family.  And in the end I found myself turned off by it all.  I don't want to sound heartless but it was like overload