I have mentioned my lovely family in my posts.
I usually throw in the caveat that two of my kids were adopted when I mention that I have seven children--not because they are different or not as much a part of my family, but probably because in this day and age when one says they have seven kids you get a lot of shocked looks. So I think I am sort of apologizing for having more than the 2.3 kids that is the 'norm'.
I shouldn't do that.
I don't love my adopted children any less than my biological children.
I'm really going to have to start being more proud of the fact that I have 7 kids. I adopted two...so it isn't like they were a surprise. :)
[I've been writing this post over a few weeks, tweaking it here and there, and I just wanted to pop in a quick story here that happened at kindergarten open house last week. I had this topic on my mind, so when I checked my 3 littles in, the lady asked if the two were twins. I simply said "No." And she waited. And waited. And waited. I finally rolled my eyes and said that one was adopted, and then the woman was fine and moved on. But it bugged me that I had to clarify. Maybe my answer from now on will just be "Yes."...]
I do wish that I had a wonderful, warm-fuzzy story about their entry into our family though.
You know what I mean...everyone has heard the touching stories about how a family went through the adoption process and had grandiose spiritual experiences that solidified the fact that their children were meant to be with them.
Sometimes those stories are so fantastic and tear-jerk worthy that I am sure that for a few seconds in time I can hear the violin playing in the background and hosts of heavenly angels singing the Hallelujah chorus....
That didn't happen with us.
That doesn't mean my two additions weren't meant for my family.
We genuinely wanted them. We got into adoption on purpose. We were foster parents to two other separate placements before we were able to bring these two siblings into our home.
So let me break a couple of myths that people tend to think about fostering and adoption.
First, fostering isn't a horrible thing. Even when you take in children and love them and get them in a home that finally gives them structure and stability, only to know that they will be returning to the chaos that they called home before they lived with you.
You know that for the short time they are with you, you will be giving them what they desperately need. And also during that time you know that their parent (usually just one parent) is trying to get his or her life back together enough to be able to get their child--who they really do love, even if their life choices don't seem to reflect that--back with them.
In my mind, I always switch places with the birth parent. If I were in their situation and had my child taken into State custody, I would want to have every opportunity to work to get my child back. It only makes sense that reunification is a State's first priority.
That said, when I took in foster children I never gave my whole heart to loving them. I was more like a caregiver who loved them as much as I knew my heart could take if they went back to their birth family.
After two placements being returned, I had shut down a little more of my heart by the time we had our two placed with us.
By the time we realized that our situation was going to become permanent, it wasn't a big 'a-ha' moment. It had evolved into something more like instead of 'knowing' they were meant to be with us, we knew it would just simply feel wrong if they left.
That is a different feeling, even though it might sound redundant.
I think it just took me awhile to let go of the clamp I had cinched around my heart that was protecting me from the 'just in case they go back' thought.
The second myth is that all foster kids have issues.
A lot of them do. You would too if your parents were on meth and cared more about their next 'hit' than feeding you. Or protecting you. Or keeping you clean.
But honestly, I know more kids with "issues" who aren't adopted, than those who are.
That's the thing with agency. Everyone chooses their own actions and regardless of your familial status, you might choose right or you might choose wrong.
I think every kid has caused some grey hairs on their parents' heads.
It isn't fair to blame it on the biological link. As if they would have been perfect if they had been the fruit of your own personal loins.
Right.
At least with foster kids you have an idea as to WHY they are acting and reacting the way they do. That makes it easier to help them, or to get help for them. A lot of parents with biological kids with issues go so long in a state of denial that by the time they realize that maybe they should step in and do something, they have a lot of sifting to go through to pinpoint the method of assistance that would benefit everyone the most.
(I'm trying really hard to not point fingers...in my experience, the second you point out someone's poor parenting skills you have a child that suddenly gloms onto that and decides to take that exact poor parenting example and magnify it tenfold.)
Third, remember that what you hear in the news about adoption or foster care that is negative is the extreme. It doesn't make the news unless it is shocking or dramatic. For every case of neglectful foster parents who chain their foster kids to their beds, there are thousands of fantastic foster parents.
As a matter of fact, even if you have never in your life considered fostering children or teens, I highly recommend everyone who has kids or who deals with kids to take the foster parenting classes. They teach you how to be parents. They teach you to understand why your child acts a certain way--foster, adopted, biological...it doesn't matter. Some things are universal. And the foster care system has developed a fabulous course to help adults be, well, adults.
For example, I learned more about the world a 4-6 year old lives in. If you see your 4 year old break your lamp and you ask "Did you break that lamp??" and they say "No." They aren't lying to you. Honest. They are telling you the answer they want to have in their world. In their world, they didn't break the lamp. So where I might have been mad that they broke the lamp and then mad again when I thought they were lying to me--"Helloooo...I just SAW you break it"--really I should have asked, "Why did you break that lamp?" Or send myself to timeout until I can deal with a 4 year old and a broken lamp with some level of maturity since last time I checked, I was the adult. Mostly.
So there you go. My ramble on foster parenting, adoption, and things I've learned in that whole process.
We are truly blessed to have all seven of our children.
When people hear we were foster parents and that we adopted two from the foster care system, I hear too often responses such as "Those kids are lucky to have you."
The truth of the matter is that we are the lucky ones.
I might not have had a burning flame of confirmation that our two we adopted were somehow pre-ordained to be in our home, but the gaping hole I am sure we would feel if they weren't here is confirmation enough.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
May Writing Challenge
Christine Bryant has issued a May writing challenge to those of us in A.I.
In a moment of weakness--and knowing that I should take every advantage to write--I agreed to her challenge this month, and the following is the result. The challenge is to write about a woman that has influenced our lives in some way--the key being that it cannot be my mother, so don't feel bad, Mom, when you read this and it isn't about you. :)
Now, before I begin my challenge piece let me just say that 'challenge' has been the key word for me on this one. As I have admitted freely in previous posts, I am basically a shallow person. I thought about a lot of different women in history, in the Bible, in my neighborhood...and realized I don't often think hard enough about anyone to have them effect me in any way that hits me hard enough to stand out.
I had to be a bigger person than that, right? I thought harder, and vague visions of past women in my life floated just out of reach for my head to wrap around any one person in particular who could stand out as having an impact on my life.
Then I made the mistake of reading Christine's own entry on her blog, and that threw my thinking in all sorts of different directions.
But the following story began to stick out a little bit more and a little bit more. And while I'm not 100% positive it fits the May writing challenge criteria, it is a decent story about a great female. One who I hope to grow up to be like someday.
To a missionary new in the field, if you are waiting for your visa you aren't always excited to be somewhere else. You aren't supposed to be spending three months in the States, you are supposed to be immersed in the country you were called to serve in. But sometimes the Lord has different ideas. Sometimes a short stay in the Ft. Lauderdale, Florida mission ends up being a time for growth and learning that you couldn't have developed anywhere else.
What Hollywood, Florida did for me was teach me through the simple choices of an investigator what true sacrifice is.
Carola Davis was only twelve years old. She and her parents had been taking the missionary discussions for a few months. They lived in a poor area in town, in a simple duplex. They loved my companion, who had met them tracting--going door to door in their neighborhood. They first tolerated and then accepted me, and we had many visits with them to help them overcome some issues, such as a 20+ year smoking habit of Carola's father.
Carola wanted to be baptized. Her mother and father wanted to be baptized. They had done everything that had been asked of them to take that next step, except attend a church meeting. Every week we would invite them to church, and every week something would 'come up' that made it impossible for them to attend.
During these visits we talked with Carola and she would tell us how she is doing in school and with her friends. She talked on and on about an upcoming band trip her class was taking. She had been selling candy door-to-door and had finally raised enough money to pay for her bus ride with her school. She was thrilled, and we were excited for her.
Before leaving her house, we asked her family again if they would like to attend church services with us the following Sunday. They knew that it was the last requirement they needed to take in order to finally be ready for baptism, but with reluctance they once again told us no.
Not having a ready excuse this time though, Carola's mother finally admitted that the reason for not being able to attend church was that they didn't have any good shoes to wear to church.
It surprised both my companion and myself enough that we had no immediate response except to say that we were sure everything would work out, and that we would do what we could to help them.
That Sunday morning just before leaving for church, my companion and I received a phone call from Carola's mom asking us for directions to the church and to double check on the time. We told them we would wait on the front steps of the church for them and introduce them to the bishop and show them around.
When they finally arrived we could see all three of them wearing brand new shiny church shoes. All three had matching smiles and such a great spirit about them.
My companion and I complimented their new shoes and Carola's mother hugged her daughter to her and told us with tears in her eyes, that Carola had heard her excuse for why they had been refusing to come to church. She had then immediately gone to her room after we had left that night and had brought her mother the money she had earned to pay for the school trip.
Carola told her mom that it was more important for her to see her family baptized and able to become sealed in the temple for eternity than to go on a trip with her classmates.
Two weeks later, the family was baptized.
Carola's example--even twenty years later--has stayed with me. I don't know if I would have sacrificed what she had when I was twelve years old. I would like to think I would have done the same thing, but I remember that age being one of self-import.
It has stayed with me enough to help me prioritize what is really important in my life.
It influence my decisions because it taught me to look at decisions in a bigger scope.
Will my decision help other people? Or will it only effect my life?
Is it a worldly desire? Or a decision that will have cause and effect forever?
A twelve year old girl.
You never know who is going to have an impact on your life. I never would have dreamed that I could learn so much from someone so young. But I did. And I will forever be grateful to her for the example she set for me.
In a moment of weakness--and knowing that I should take every advantage to write--I agreed to her challenge this month, and the following is the result. The challenge is to write about a woman that has influenced our lives in some way--the key being that it cannot be my mother, so don't feel bad, Mom, when you read this and it isn't about you. :)
Now, before I begin my challenge piece let me just say that 'challenge' has been the key word for me on this one. As I have admitted freely in previous posts, I am basically a shallow person. I thought about a lot of different women in history, in the Bible, in my neighborhood...and realized I don't often think hard enough about anyone to have them effect me in any way that hits me hard enough to stand out.
I had to be a bigger person than that, right? I thought harder, and vague visions of past women in my life floated just out of reach for my head to wrap around any one person in particular who could stand out as having an impact on my life.
Then I made the mistake of reading Christine's own entry on her blog, and that threw my thinking in all sorts of different directions.
But the following story began to stick out a little bit more and a little bit more. And while I'm not 100% positive it fits the May writing challenge criteria, it is a decent story about a great female. One who I hope to grow up to be like someday.
To a missionary new in the field, if you are waiting for your visa you aren't always excited to be somewhere else. You aren't supposed to be spending three months in the States, you are supposed to be immersed in the country you were called to serve in. But sometimes the Lord has different ideas. Sometimes a short stay in the Ft. Lauderdale, Florida mission ends up being a time for growth and learning that you couldn't have developed anywhere else.
What Hollywood, Florida did for me was teach me through the simple choices of an investigator what true sacrifice is.
Carola Davis was only twelve years old. She and her parents had been taking the missionary discussions for a few months. They lived in a poor area in town, in a simple duplex. They loved my companion, who had met them tracting--going door to door in their neighborhood. They first tolerated and then accepted me, and we had many visits with them to help them overcome some issues, such as a 20+ year smoking habit of Carola's father.
Carola wanted to be baptized. Her mother and father wanted to be baptized. They had done everything that had been asked of them to take that next step, except attend a church meeting. Every week we would invite them to church, and every week something would 'come up' that made it impossible for them to attend.
During these visits we talked with Carola and she would tell us how she is doing in school and with her friends. She talked on and on about an upcoming band trip her class was taking. She had been selling candy door-to-door and had finally raised enough money to pay for her bus ride with her school. She was thrilled, and we were excited for her.
Before leaving her house, we asked her family again if they would like to attend church services with us the following Sunday. They knew that it was the last requirement they needed to take in order to finally be ready for baptism, but with reluctance they once again told us no.
Not having a ready excuse this time though, Carola's mother finally admitted that the reason for not being able to attend church was that they didn't have any good shoes to wear to church.
It surprised both my companion and myself enough that we had no immediate response except to say that we were sure everything would work out, and that we would do what we could to help them.
That Sunday morning just before leaving for church, my companion and I received a phone call from Carola's mom asking us for directions to the church and to double check on the time. We told them we would wait on the front steps of the church for them and introduce them to the bishop and show them around.
When they finally arrived we could see all three of them wearing brand new shiny church shoes. All three had matching smiles and such a great spirit about them.
My companion and I complimented their new shoes and Carola's mother hugged her daughter to her and told us with tears in her eyes, that Carola had heard her excuse for why they had been refusing to come to church. She had then immediately gone to her room after we had left that night and had brought her mother the money she had earned to pay for the school trip.
Carola told her mom that it was more important for her to see her family baptized and able to become sealed in the temple for eternity than to go on a trip with her classmates.
Two weeks later, the family was baptized.
Carola's example--even twenty years later--has stayed with me. I don't know if I would have sacrificed what she had when I was twelve years old. I would like to think I would have done the same thing, but I remember that age being one of self-import.
It has stayed with me enough to help me prioritize what is really important in my life.
It influence my decisions because it taught me to look at decisions in a bigger scope.
Will my decision help other people? Or will it only effect my life?
Is it a worldly desire? Or a decision that will have cause and effect forever?
A twelve year old girl.
You never know who is going to have an impact on your life. I never would have dreamed that I could learn so much from someone so young. But I did. And I will forever be grateful to her for the example she set for me.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
'What if's' in April
Have you ever looked back on your life and wondered what it would be like now if you had married someone else? Seen the life of one of your old boyfriends and pictured yourself in that situation instead of the one you are in now?
No?
Must just be me.
My husband and I went through bins and bins of scrapbook stuff (took 5 bins down to 2 with all the crap I ended up throwing away and wondering what in the heck I was thinking when I saved it in the first place...), but we saw old photos of ex's....some of his old girlfriends, some of my old boyfriends. And I wondered.
I think I would have driven a lesser man completely insane by now.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Doug is the only guy that could have put up with my idiosyncrasies for this long without killing me--or divorcing me, or at least kicking me in the shin really, really hard.
I hear about what some of my ex-boyfriends lives are like now and think they really got off easy when I made them break up with me. ;) The wives they have now are exactly right for them.
I hear about some of Doug's ex-girlfriends and wonder if he would have been happier with someone with more emotion, better conversation, and a bigger set of...um...mammories.
To his credit, he hasn't complained. (Not even about that last item... ;) )
I'd like to think I have him snowed into thinking I was his absolute best choice. I mean seriously... After reading my previous post about all my talents who wouldn't want to be married to me? The pie I make alone would be enough to convince a man to take a chance on marrying me.
Doug and I both dated a lot of people before we got married. So it isn't like we were scraping the bottom of the dating barrel and decided that we'd better just get married because nothing better was coming along....just to clarify.
We had options.
We ended up preferring each other over everyone else.
Nothing wrong with that.
But I still wonder how it could have turned out differently.
If I hadn't worked for a year after high school before going to college I wouldn't have met him.
If he hadn't had a freak baseball accident in the 8th grade that hurt his vision in one eye, he might have joined the Air Force (he wanted to be a pilot) and I wouldn't have met him.
If I hadn't held up my bargain with Doug's cousin Jason about bringing Portuguese socks back for him from my mission--thus having Doug find out I'd returned home after I dropped them off at his uncle's house--we might not have crossed paths again.
Heck, if the girl he started dating seriously while I was on my mission had chosen to stay home and get married instead of going on a mission herself...he might have married before I got home and reminded him that I was his best option. :)
If, if, if. Lots of ifs in this world. But they all worked out exactly the right way to make it possible for Doug and I to meet and fall in love and get married.
I guess in this rambling I just wanted to vocalize on the 'what-if's'. And in doing this I realized that whether he is thrilled about it or not, I'm glad I married Doug and that he has put up with me for this many years.
Some days I'm sure I exasperate the heck out of him.
Turn about is fair play, after all... (did I 'say' that out loud?)
But that's the fun. Keeps him on his toes :)
This is an old photo of Doug and me in the summer of 1989. We dated until I left on my mission in October of that year.
This is Doug and me on our wedding day. I thought about posting a photo from our photo album instead of this snapshot, but the photo album photos are too detailed--made me realize that I have a huge head. Just like the kid on 'So I Married an Axe Murderer'...
"Look at the size of that boy's heed... I'm not kidding, it's like an orange on a toothpick...Well, that's a huge noggin. That's a virtual planetoid. ...Has it's own weather system....I'm not kidding, that boy's head is like Sputnik; spherical but quite pointy at parts! Now that was offside, wasn't it? He'll be crying himself to sleep tonight, on his huge pillow. "
But again, I ramble myself into a nice digress....
All I'm saying is that even when looking through old scrapbook photos and pondering lightly on the 'what if's' while listening to Little Texas sing 'What Might Have Been', (which is why I added a playlist today so that you can all get the "mood"..) I'm glad things turned out the way they did in my life and that my husband is my husband and my ex's are my ex's...
And I'm pretty sure everyone involved feels the same way. :)
Monday, March 23, 2009
Positive Talents
I have decided that I would like to dedicate just one blog entry on things I think I do well. I keep writing blogs about my bad habits and keep admitting to things that normal people would try to keep to themselves...like my previous post on how great I am at procrastinating.
Let me just tell you that if I were to ever discover a new species of animal I would probably name it something that begins with the letter 'X', and rhymes with 'orange'. X because really the only decent animal out there is the Xoloitzcuintli--or Mexican Hairless Dog. And the orange rhyme is just because nothing rhymes with orange.
I don't count procrastination as a talent. Although I do procrastinate better than probably 95% of the population, I was thinking more along the lines of talking about things I am good at that are a positive thing.
This could be a very short blog. Maybe I'll add pictures to make it more interesting....
[5 minutes later...I'm still trying to come up with something....]
Okay, I guess I should put down my stand-by "Artist" talent. I don't work on that as much as I should, so the quality isn't what I think it could be...but I do like to draw.
This is a drawing I did of Max a few years ago..a dog that belonged to a friend of a friend...long story...
Right now my big daily art project is to draw in Sharpie a picture on my kids' paper lunch sacks. I'm not sure if they are enjoying the artwork, but it does give them a unique lunch sack. I've drawn two different things each morning since school started in September. I got tired of coming up with new scenes, so at the moment I'm going through the alphabet and drawing animals that begin with the letter of the day.
Let me just tell you that if I were to ever discover a new species of animal I would probably name it something that begins with the letter 'X', and rhymes with 'orange'. X because really the only decent animal out there is the Xoloitzcuintli--or Mexican Hairless Dog. And the orange rhyme is just because nothing rhymes with orange.
This is the Xolo...not very attractive is he?:
[Another 5 minutes later...Why are lists of my negative qualities so much easier to come up with?]
Okay. I'm a fairly decent athlete. I'm better when I'm not carrying an extra 20 pounds, but I enjoy sports. I like it that I can still (20 pounds too heavy and more grey hair than I want to admit) take a soccer ball and school young punks. I can still have a man goal keeper run out at me thinking I'm an easy pick, casually slide the ball around his hulking form, and leave him on the ground while I put the ball neatly in the back of the net at an outdoor co-ed soccer game.
I can bake a mean pie. (which doesn't help the shedding of those extra 20 pounds, but brings happiness to everyone enjoying said pie)
I like to write. Not sure how great I am at it, but I enjoy it so I'll count that as something I can do.
I sing really well to the car radio. Not so much on my own, but imitating other singers is fun for me. Probably has to do with my sadistic liking of mocking people...which I probably shouldn't have mentioned in a blog I'm trying to keep to positive things I do well....
[Another 5 minutes later....this is getting depressing....]
I'll stop now before I hurt myself.
The photos made it look like a longer post anyway, so that's something.
So now you can all say that yes, I have positive talents. Everyone does. And to stay with a bit of a trend here, I found this quote that made me feel a little better:
Talent counts thirty percent; appearance counts seventy. - Chinese proverb
So I'll take that and go about my life with 30% talent, and will appear to have more. :)
Works for me.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
I've put it off long enough--another blog on procrastination
I believe I have mentioned before that I have an innate ability to procrastinate. I have procrastinated things for as long as I can remember.
Countless last minute hours were spent finishing homework assignments that I knew about for a month, but started and finished the night before it was due.
I STILL haven't taken Christmas neighbor gifts around. For Christmas 2007.
My house needs a good thorough cleaning, but is kindly waiting for me to stop putting it off and just get to it.
And right behind me as I type this blog, I have 5 really big Rubbermaid bins FULL of "scrapbook" stuff that I have just thrown in the bins over the years to 'someday' get to and put in some sort of order showing that I actually care about my family and the mementos we have kept. I can't procrastinate this one much longer. The bins were kept tucked neatly "out of sight, out of mind" in our storage room, but when my husband decided to clean out the room he also forced my hand on the scrapping crap.
And trust me, most of it IS crap.
I am fairly certain that if/when I do finally go through these bins that I will take the number 5 down to just 2 bins.
Because I also put off deciding what is really worth keeping, so have been known on way too many occasions to just open a bin and throw in things to decide about later.
Old school work my kids have done over the years. Art work, fine. But I'm talking spelling tests and math homework. I didn't even want to DO math or spelling as a kid, why would my own kids want to keep old paperwork? For posterity? "Hey look, back in the day I could add." Ah, the memories....
I'm really not looking forward to going through the bins. But I know it has to be done. So I will do like I always do and put it off to the last possible minute.
In the dictionary the definition of procrastinate is this:
pro-cras-ti-nate
–verb (used without object)
1. to defer action; delay: to procrastinate until an opportunity is lost.
–verb (used with object)
2. to put off till another day or time; defer; delay.
I admit to having looked that definition up before I started this blog entry. It is another case of me knowing half the definition. #2 was the way I thought of the word. It is exactly what I do. Put everything off till another day or time.
The first definition made me actually pause and think. "To procrastinate until an opportunity is lost."
If I were the type of person who looked back a lot on things I've done or decisions I have made, I would probably be able to come up with a pretty long list of opportunities I have lost because of my procrastination.
Luckily (or unluckily) for me, my memory is not that wonderful--especially on things that might dishearten me. I have a fairly selective memory I think. I don't hold grudges--well, except for that one chick in band in high school who borrowed $20 from me on our band trip to Edmonton Canada to buy a cashmere sweater that looked fabulous on her and then she would run the other way when she saw me and never repaid me or the other people she borrowed $20 from to have enough money for the sweater...that still bugs me even 24 years later. Not that she didn't pay me back, but that she hid from me and wouldn't just tell me she couldn't pay it...but I digress--
I don't remember reasons for arguments, which can be good and bad. Good because I'm not walking around mad all the time (and holding a grudge), bad because if the argument is with my husband he has been known to take my forgetting of the reasons for our disagreement to mean I am pretending it never happened. I remember the part where we were disagreeing, but rarely remember the why of it all.
Which I guess makes a good case for my husband because if I don't remember why we were arguing, how am I going to not do or say whatever it was that started it in the first place? But it also makes a good case for him because if whatever it was that we fought about was HIS fault, I'm not going to nag and whine him to death about it all.
Seems like a win-win for him, doesn't it? :)
I do need to work on not procrastinating. I do see things that I am missing because of this particular skill I have.
Simple things like being late for most things because I just flat out put off getting ready to go. Putting off writing so that I miss the deadline for the 'First Chapter' contest at a writer's convention this year.
Complex things like not becoming friends with new neighbors because I put off meeting them until it becomes downright awkward. Not going to see new nieces or nephews when they are born because I put it off so long that they are home from the hospital--and sometimes crawling--before I get my backside in gear and go see them.
Things that when I am old and have nothing better to do except finally let my brain look backwards into things I have or haven't done with my life, I will regret. Or I will do my best to talk myself out of the regret--even though I will have earned every twinge of guilt or remorse.
Arthur Miller said: Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.
So I will do my best to stop procrastinating. Then maybe I will have the right regrets.
Easier said than done when you have made procrastination an art form like I have.
I will probably just ease myself into it...be closer to on time to things. Meet my neighbors within at least the first 6 months of them moving into the neighborhood. See my new nieces and nephews before they speak in complete sentences...
I guess to start I should wrap up this rambling blog that is really only helping me ignore the Rubbermaid bins behind me...
Here is a quote I found that I like..and when you read it you'll see why...and then you will have zero faith in me that I will ever stop procrastinating. :)
Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow. ~Mark Twain
Countless last minute hours were spent finishing homework assignments that I knew about for a month, but started and finished the night before it was due.
I STILL haven't taken Christmas neighbor gifts around. For Christmas 2007.
My house needs a good thorough cleaning, but is kindly waiting for me to stop putting it off and just get to it.
And right behind me as I type this blog, I have 5 really big Rubbermaid bins FULL of "scrapbook" stuff that I have just thrown in the bins over the years to 'someday' get to and put in some sort of order showing that I actually care about my family and the mementos we have kept. I can't procrastinate this one much longer. The bins were kept tucked neatly "out of sight, out of mind" in our storage room, but when my husband decided to clean out the room he also forced my hand on the scrapping crap.
And trust me, most of it IS crap.
I am fairly certain that if/when I do finally go through these bins that I will take the number 5 down to just 2 bins.
Because I also put off deciding what is really worth keeping, so have been known on way too many occasions to just open a bin and throw in things to decide about later.
Old school work my kids have done over the years. Art work, fine. But I'm talking spelling tests and math homework. I didn't even want to DO math or spelling as a kid, why would my own kids want to keep old paperwork? For posterity? "Hey look, back in the day I could add." Ah, the memories....
I'm really not looking forward to going through the bins. But I know it has to be done. So I will do like I always do and put it off to the last possible minute.
In the dictionary the definition of procrastinate is this:
pro-cras-ti-nate
–verb (used without object)
1. to defer action; delay: to procrastinate until an opportunity is lost.
–verb (used with object)
2. to put off till another day or time; defer; delay.
I admit to having looked that definition up before I started this blog entry. It is another case of me knowing half the definition. #2 was the way I thought of the word. It is exactly what I do. Put everything off till another day or time.
The first definition made me actually pause and think. "To procrastinate until an opportunity is lost."
If I were the type of person who looked back a lot on things I've done or decisions I have made, I would probably be able to come up with a pretty long list of opportunities I have lost because of my procrastination.
Luckily (or unluckily) for me, my memory is not that wonderful--especially on things that might dishearten me. I have a fairly selective memory I think. I don't hold grudges--well, except for that one chick in band in high school who borrowed $20 from me on our band trip to Edmonton Canada to buy a cashmere sweater that looked fabulous on her and then she would run the other way when she saw me and never repaid me or the other people she borrowed $20 from to have enough money for the sweater...that still bugs me even 24 years later. Not that she didn't pay me back, but that she hid from me and wouldn't just tell me she couldn't pay it...but I digress--
I don't remember reasons for arguments, which can be good and bad. Good because I'm not walking around mad all the time (and holding a grudge), bad because if the argument is with my husband he has been known to take my forgetting of the reasons for our disagreement to mean I am pretending it never happened. I remember the part where we were disagreeing, but rarely remember the why of it all.
Which I guess makes a good case for my husband because if I don't remember why we were arguing, how am I going to not do or say whatever it was that started it in the first place? But it also makes a good case for him because if whatever it was that we fought about was HIS fault, I'm not going to nag and whine him to death about it all.
Seems like a win-win for him, doesn't it? :)
I do need to work on not procrastinating. I do see things that I am missing because of this particular skill I have.
Simple things like being late for most things because I just flat out put off getting ready to go. Putting off writing so that I miss the deadline for the 'First Chapter' contest at a writer's convention this year.
Complex things like not becoming friends with new neighbors because I put off meeting them until it becomes downright awkward. Not going to see new nieces or nephews when they are born because I put it off so long that they are home from the hospital--and sometimes crawling--before I get my backside in gear and go see them.
Things that when I am old and have nothing better to do except finally let my brain look backwards into things I have or haven't done with my life, I will regret. Or I will do my best to talk myself out of the regret--even though I will have earned every twinge of guilt or remorse.
Arthur Miller said: Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.
So I will do my best to stop procrastinating. Then maybe I will have the right regrets.
Easier said than done when you have made procrastination an art form like I have.
I will probably just ease myself into it...be closer to on time to things. Meet my neighbors within at least the first 6 months of them moving into the neighborhood. See my new nieces and nephews before they speak in complete sentences...
I guess to start I should wrap up this rambling blog that is really only helping me ignore the Rubbermaid bins behind me...
Here is a quote I found that I like..and when you read it you'll see why...and then you will have zero faith in me that I will ever stop procrastinating. :)
Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow. ~Mark Twain
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Happy Pi(e) Day!
In case anyone wants another reason to have pie...(does anyone need a reason??)
Today is 3.14
Pi Day
I'm not good at math, so Pi means pretty much just another number to me.
But I'm good at pies :) So if there is a day that combines something I'm horrible at and something that tastes pretty darn good, then I'm all for it.
So whether you like a nice fruit pie, a cream pie...a Kahlua cream cheese pie from Marie Callendars--seriously tasty--...Or even a chicken pot pie, take advantage of an excuse like today's date to indulge.
But do it my way and leave the math part out of it--no counting calories, no adding up the weight gain that will come with having that extra piece of your favorite kind of pie....
Happy Pi Day everyone :)
Sunday, March 8, 2009
March Ramble
Just a bit of rambling thought today. Shocker, I know.
I was driving down the freeway the other day and a car passed me that had those vinyl letters in the back window that said "Die Trying".
They were young punks in that car, so they probably thought it was a fairly tough statement and didn't mean for it to cause undue thinking on any one's part--especially a kooky lady in a crapper suburban like me.
But I did think about it for awhile. Probably longer than I usually think about things, and I'm sure I'll get over it sooner rather than later....but still. I actually pondered a bit. (Write that down, because it will probably be awhile before I ponder again..)
My first thought (after the one about punk kids and their driving habits..,), was that the phrase 'die trying' is actually what everyone should hope for.
In the religion I belong to, we believe that everyone should strive toward perfection. Christ gave us the perfect example and we should emulate that and do good deeds, love thy neighbor, etc.
But also in my religion--especially in the women--I think that they have taken that perfection route a bit too literally. There are all sorts of statistics on the number of women in my State who are on anti-depressants. And I have felt for awhile that a lot of that is due, in part to the drilling in of the perfection statements.
The key is that we are to strive for that. It never, ever says we will actually become perfect. No one can. It is just part of being human that makes it so. We cannot become perfect in this life. We can, however, try to become better people. Better wives, husbands, friends, brothers...We can help others, we can volunteer, we can set good examples and try our darnedest to not be judgemental of other people and the choices they make. And we can be easier on ourselves and those around us.
No one is perfect. It isn't going to happen in this lifetime. All we can do is try to become better tomorrow than we are today and not be hard on ourselves when we slide backwards a bit because of our human nature.
All we can do is try. Try to just be good to yourself and those around you. Try to give up bad habits and replace them with good ones. Try to learn more. Try to be an example of a decent human being when the rest of the world is going to crap. Try to be more involved. Try to be more forgiving. Try to love yourself and not stress so much about being perfect.
Try every day until we die.
Hence, the 'Die Trying'. That's what we should all be doing. We should die trying to be better people. To make the world--at least our little part of it--a happier place to be. Die trying to make other people's lives a little nicer.
A great thought that sort of goes along with this whole jumble of ramble is from Marvin J. Ashton, an apostle from my church. He said:
“Be one who nurtures and builds. Be one who has an understanding and a forgiving heart, who looks for the best in people. Leave people better than you found them”.
I know it isn't a huge epiphany of sorts. It is just a reminder that even if we die tomorrow, we won't be dying perfect...but we will hopefully die trying to be a better person than we are right now.
And like my favorite part of that quote..."Leave people better than you found them."
If we do that, we won't just die trying.
I think we will have died succeeding.
I was driving down the freeway the other day and a car passed me that had those vinyl letters in the back window that said "Die Trying".
They were young punks in that car, so they probably thought it was a fairly tough statement and didn't mean for it to cause undue thinking on any one's part--especially a kooky lady in a crapper suburban like me.
But I did think about it for awhile. Probably longer than I usually think about things, and I'm sure I'll get over it sooner rather than later....but still. I actually pondered a bit. (Write that down, because it will probably be awhile before I ponder again..)
My first thought (after the one about punk kids and their driving habits..,), was that the phrase 'die trying' is actually what everyone should hope for.
In the religion I belong to, we believe that everyone should strive toward perfection. Christ gave us the perfect example and we should emulate that and do good deeds, love thy neighbor, etc.
But also in my religion--especially in the women--I think that they have taken that perfection route a bit too literally. There are all sorts of statistics on the number of women in my State who are on anti-depressants. And I have felt for awhile that a lot of that is due, in part to the drilling in of the perfection statements.
The key is that we are to strive for that. It never, ever says we will actually become perfect. No one can. It is just part of being human that makes it so. We cannot become perfect in this life. We can, however, try to become better people. Better wives, husbands, friends, brothers...We can help others, we can volunteer, we can set good examples and try our darnedest to not be judgemental of other people and the choices they make. And we can be easier on ourselves and those around us.
No one is perfect. It isn't going to happen in this lifetime. All we can do is try to become better tomorrow than we are today and not be hard on ourselves when we slide backwards a bit because of our human nature.
All we can do is try. Try to just be good to yourself and those around you. Try to give up bad habits and replace them with good ones. Try to learn more. Try to be an example of a decent human being when the rest of the world is going to crap. Try to be more involved. Try to be more forgiving. Try to love yourself and not stress so much about being perfect.
Try every day until we die.
Hence, the 'Die Trying'. That's what we should all be doing. We should die trying to be better people. To make the world--at least our little part of it--a happier place to be. Die trying to make other people's lives a little nicer.
A great thought that sort of goes along with this whole jumble of ramble is from Marvin J. Ashton, an apostle from my church. He said:
“Be one who nurtures and builds. Be one who has an understanding and a forgiving heart, who looks for the best in people. Leave people better than you found them”.
I know it isn't a huge epiphany of sorts. It is just a reminder that even if we die tomorrow, we won't be dying perfect...but we will hopefully die trying to be a better person than we are right now.
And like my favorite part of that quote..."Leave people better than you found them."
If we do that, we won't just die trying.
I think we will have died succeeding.
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