Summer Challenge

I've had several friends ask for the Summer Challenge that I came up with for my girls.  They are 13 and 15 years old and our summer will consist of sleeping, eating, and watching TV if something doesn't change.  Out of desperation for something other than mindless electronic stimuli over the summer I created a list of 40 things for my girls to do.  They have to pick 5 items to complete by the end of the summer.  A few more ideas have surfaced since then, and I will add them to this post.  Of course if rules about electronics aren't followed or complaints of boredom erupt my children will be referred back to said list.

Feel free to adapt my ideas to suit the needs of your children.  Want an extra challenge? Chose 5 items that you also have to complete! Compare notes at the end of the summer. If you chose to have your children complete this challenge, please leave me feedback on how it went. Also, if you came up with any awesome ideas, post them to this blog so I can use them in the future!

I can't add the Word Document, so I copied and pasted it here.  Feel Free to copy and paste to print.

A few ideas that aren't listed:
_________ Create a budget
_________ Invest in something
_________ Raise money for a cause of your choice
_________ Write a mission statement for your life, find a symbol/word, make it into a piece of art.
_________ Research our political candidates
_________ Start a blog that you will keep all summer, writing 10 posts throughout the summer.
_________ Start a new business on paper. What would it be? How many employees would you need?
_________ Turn an object into something else, re-purpose it!


Here's the original list:

Summer Challenge

This is not optional.  Pick at least 5 things from this list to do this summer.
All items must be complete by the last week of summer before school starts.
Put the date next to the items as you complete them.  Enjoy!

_________ Volunteer

_________ Write a short story

 _________ Write a letter a week to bless someone else

_________ Write a song that you can play a musical instrument to

_________ Write a year-in-review of your recent school year

_________ Write to a pen pal

_________Write a book of poetry

_________Write different lyrics to a song

_________ Perform 5 random act of kindness and write them down

_________ Read a series of at least 3 books

_________ Read a classic book

_________ Complete a faith-based study book

_________ Take an online class

_________ Learn something new

_________ Make a movie

_________ Create a musical mash-up that tells the story of your life… so far!

_________ Create a new piece of artwork for your room

_________ Scrap pictures from your recent school year

_________ Build or construct something out of any material you want

_________ Research a career you are interested in (duties, college, salary)

_________ Design your dream bedroom using grid paper

_________ Plan a dream vacation

_________ Plan a party

_________ Find a recipe a week to try for dinner

_________ Cook dinner for the family once a month

_________Make a layered dessert… and clean up the mess!

_________ Plan a special family date (you make any necessary reservations)

_________ Plant something and tend to it

_________ Commit to pick the tomatoes

_________ Lead a faith-based discussion group with peers

_________ Find 7 passages in the Bible that speak to you

_________ Take a sabbatical from ALL electronics for a week (camp doesn’t count!)

_________ Take the online quiz to learn your Love Language (5lovelanguages.com)

_________ Walk the distance of a marathon by the end of summer (26.2 miles)

_________Do yoga or pilates once a week

_________Set 5 personal goals for the rest of 2016

_________Go through your artwork keepsake box and try to downsize

_________Come up with a family motto and design it to put in a frame

_________See how many days you can go without fighting with your sister

Last one was omitted as it was to continue a project in progress at our house!  LOL

Finding myself in the midst of losing...

Layer by layer, I peel back the anger, the irritability, and the need for isolation only to find fear, heartbreak, sadness and loneliness... an empty shell some days and becoming more and more so as the days pass by.  I know why this is.  I know all the reasons why.  Of them all, there is only one that I can change... myself.

The first thing I think about in the morning, the last thing I think about before I fall asleep, and every other second in between is occupied by my weight, my body shape, the fit of my clothes, the dimples in my... the dimples everywhere.  I look in the mirror when necessary to check my teeth or to steal a quick glance at my hair but never do I stop and pose like I used to as a teenager.  My turns and spins in front of the mirror are now out of horror rather than admiration of how my butt looks in my jeans.  I've finally stopped the madness and just quit spinning.

When I was in grade school I had a typical body image, suck it in at all the right times whether I needed to or not but then prance around in my bathing suit with reckless abandon.  Into high school I was constantly called "cute" and I waited for the day that I would grow out of that image into being "lovely" or "beautiful" but today at 36 years old, I'm still "cute".  I've decided that in order to be beautiful at my age, one has to be thin, maybe blonde, and have a strikingly outgoing personality.  I'll go on being "cute" in my pursuit of finding beauty.

Today is the end of day 4 of gluten free eating which was a fairly smooth transition into better portion control and even perhaps a paradigm shift of attitude.  I've made the commitment to purchase an UP band that will help me track my movement vs. my caloric intake as well as a nutritional supplement to boost my efforts.  I'm still feeling defeated despite 4 days of success but I can tell that I'm feeling more energy and more control than I have in a long time.

I'm hoping that Monday will be an "all in" week with all my forces in place.  I need this.  I need this for me.  I need to rediscover that "cute" teenage girl in the mirror who had so many great expectations of what this life would hold.  She's in there.  I know she's right where I left her.  I just have to unbury her from the pounds that have piled up and the bumps and bruises from the baggage that she carries.  No one can rescue her but me.  Time to start digging her out.


"My grace is sufficient for you for my power is made perfect in weakness."  1 Corinthians 12:9

"Wish I could wrap up this very cozy moment."

All alone, a big cup of decaf coffee, dimmed lights, scented candles filling the air, Frank Sinatra or Nat King Cole crooning in the background.... It's a sensory vacation for me.  It soothes my soul and calms my mind. All is right with the world, even when everything around me seems wrong.  This is my happy place.

Someday my girls are going to leave my home and yearn for their own bedroom, their mom in the rocking chair, and the sweet memories of my home.  Too many times I feel like I let them down through the natural role of being the mom.  I have to make sure they learn life lessons such as kindness and responsibility, work ethic, table manners, how to love and forgive, and so, so many others.  Some of these things I am still working on myself.

I have a mixed batch of memories of my childhood.  There are the times that I spent with the neighbor boy who I babysat but also befriended.  We did silly things like wear panyhose on our heads and dance and sing to We Sing Together.  One time I had to hold a dead squirrel by the tail as my dad skinned it. There's the time I sat in my closet and cried at the death of my grandma.  I had the greatest 15th birthday party that friends still remember to this day.  There's the time I ran to my bedroom in fear at the headlights pulling into the drive.  A vivid memory was sitting in the ER and telling a lie to the doctor about how I tripped over my shoe laces at 10:00 at night.  There was that first kiss behind a tree. A belt.  Making Madrigals. My first car. Another fight.  A first true love. A first true heartbreak.  And so many memories in between.

I want my girls to have more happy, joyful memories than not.  Somedays it seems like I should just give up now.  Do they know how easy they have it?  I can't help but wonder if we just manage to adjust to our circumstances where the bad is bad and the good is good and the degree doesn't really matter.  I know that doesn't sound very eloquent, but I'm not sure how else to put it.  No matter how "not bad" my children have it, it still seems "bad" in comparison.  They really have no idea.  Today this thought makes me sad.  Other days, I will admit, it makes me angry that they don't appreciate how lucky they are.

The reality is, my girls have friends with semi-privileged upbringings.  Not necessarily in the financial realm, but in the spoiled, "you're not my mom" kinda way.   Does a mom share glimpses of her own childhood so her children can appreciate their own?  It's a struggle of mine.  My aim isn't guilt, though some would call it that.  My aim isn't manipulation, though others would call it that.  My aim is only to reveal all that they have to cherish despite having to clean their rooms.

                                                                                                  I continue to ponder....

The Protector in Me

As you can maybe tell, I've been doing a lot of self reflection lately.  It's a coping mechanism that forces me to hold a mirror in front of my face and to look at all the ugly and to try to understand why I do the things I do.  This week I've had two major revelations about my life.  I've realized that my "lost puppy syndrome" runs deep and keeps me in a painful place because of my need to protect those around me.  I've also realized that this is part of the reason why I keep friends at a distance... Because it's too hard to invest in them all when they could turn around and hurt me in a way that will take years to recover from.

All I want is to be everything to someone.  Impossible.  

The weather inside

Today is the day the tornadoes hit around Peoria.  As I'm standing outside watching a tornado from the deck, I could feel the same storm brewing in my chest.  My life tends to constantly have the makings for the perfect storm just waiting for the final element that will set the whirlwind into motion.  I hesitate to be too transparent but I know that the storm in my chest is a result of the secrets that I keep.

I've been walking a long road of hiding reality, but isn't that the example my whole life has set?  Put on a smile, lipstick, and some great eye makeup and no one will see the sadness.  I can't hide them this time.  The scars of insecurity, of self doubt, the ache that never goes away...  I wear them like a piece of jewelry these days.

The truth is, it's all my fault.  My expectations are too high and my heart is too sensitive.  I wish I could change my past, decisions I've made, baggage that I carry, hateful words I've said... I wish I could take it all back.  I would do so many things differently.  I would strive to be a different person. I'm not the wife or mother that I always thought I would be and it makes me sad each time I think about it.

I'm selfish.  I'm sloppy.  I'm insecure.  I'm needy.  I'm demanding.  I want a fairytale that doesn't exist...

This Life of Mine

Once upon a time I was an innocent girl, shy, reserved, prim and proper, covered in pink lace with bows in my hair.  I stood on a picnic table singing at the top of my lungs; 'You Can Paint a Rainbow' by Rainbow Bright.  I can recite all the lyrics to this day.  I knew little of the evils of the world and in my isolated, protected bubble they were kept at arms length.  Except for the things that weren't.  

My childhood was woven with challenges, my adolescence dripping with emotion, and my adulthood reflects it all. I carry some baggage that I can't ever seem to unpack; baggage that my husband gets to carry more often than I like, but when I sift through pain, the fear, and the memories I'm reminded that all of those things have shaped me and molded me into my current self.  At times I am slow to laugh, quick to criticize, and I pop off without thinking.  I've established boundaries of protection which I can't always explain and at times I find that I'm less trusting and more guarded than I ever thought I would be.  I've been hurt by strangers and friends, and those who say they love me.  It's a part of life, I know, yet still I feel my heart harden with each new assault.  You may not know my story.  You may have called me names or judged me.  In truth I have been all of the things you say. My life has gone into survival mode more times than I can count and with that comes consequences.  Sometimes I think that my survival mode takes a tiny piece of me and keeps it in that dark, lonely place paving the path for quicker access next time. 

With all of this being said, all of the struggles in my life have written my story.  The story of my parenting, the story of my compassion, the story of my fear, and the story of my salvation.  I know I'm not the only one who carries a scar from their past.  As the saying goes, Be kind to each person you meet for you never know what battles they are fighting.  

Re-Fueled By Quiet

I've always been a fairly outgoing person.  Maybe a little shy, reserved, and cautious, but outgoing and not afraid to speak to others.  I had a lot of friends in grade school and high school, dated a little, raised my hand to share in class, talked back to my mom, and enjoyed being on stage singing and dancing.  As an adult I have fewer friends, don't date, rarely talk back to my mom, and would sing or dance only in a crowed room after having a beverage or two. I speak freely in my job, make friendly acquaintances easily, I share portions of my story with anyone who might care enough to listen and share my spiritual beliefs when appropriate. I don't hesitate to talk to strangers, and I feel comfortable standing up for things that are important to me.  I would call myself an extrovert.  The odd paradigm is that at the end of the day or a busy week, I am re-fueled by quiet.

It has taken conflict in my marriage and lots of introspection before I began to realize that being with people making small talk and bouncing from one conversation to the next is exhausting to me.  I would much rather be part of a deep, meaningful conversation sitting at home with a glass of wine than to be among a large crowd of people all chattering across the room.  My brain often interprets the noise like the loud roar of a machine and I eventually step back and exit from the conversations being juggled around me.  In turn I look disconnected, uninterested, snobby, anti-social, and bored.

Tony is my polar opposite in this area as are most of the people in our circle.  It's important to Tony to go out and be social no matter how busy the week has been.  It's important to me to have some down time where I can just "be".  I need to quiet the noise in order to feel refreshed.

I wish before judgement came an effort to understand.  I'm guilty of this myself, passing judgement without seeking to understand where the other person might be.  I'm going to work on this.  I'm going to fail more times than get it right, but I'm going to work on it.

If I accept you for you, would you accept me for me?

This Career that I Love

A few weeks ago I watched a man walk past me at Walmart with braces on his legs, pushing a wheeled walker, carrying a bouquet of flowers for his wife.  This man was a patient of mine when I was doing my clinical time as a student at ICC.  I was with him the day he took his very first steps after his accident that left him paralyzed.  My heart just about burst from my chest to see him walking even though he had the assistance of a walker and braces, he had been given back his independence.  I was so proud of him.  If anyone could overcome the odds it was this man.

When I worked at the hospital in the cardiac ICU, I found people everyday that had the determination to beat the odds; some were able to while others died trying.  In the cardiac ICU, the day could change on a dime.  A patient that made steady progress could be gone when you walked in the next morning and likewise a patient who couldn't respond might be communicating and following commands.  Each and every day I gave out "the rock star award".  It was my own reminder to find the highlight of every day, something praiseworthy, something to remind myself how important my job was.  Of course there were patients who would refuse to work with me before I would even open my mouth to introduce myself and then there were those who just couldn't.

I adored working at OSF.  I loved being in the "hubbub" of Peoria.  I would watch the news in the morning and potentially work with a patient featured in a story that afternoon.  My job always brought me so much joy.  I will never, ever forget walking a sweet little lady who was on a ventilator with a team of people.  We were quite the parade going down the hall, but it brought me joy and it brought her strength.  My patient became my friend.  Her smile was contagious and her drive to get home was inspiring.  I knew that I made a difference. Sometimes I made a difference by crying with a patient, sometimes it was by making recommendations for discharge that would give the patient safety and allow them to go home, and sometimes it was by having a real, honest conversation about the reality of the situation they were in. Sometimes I miss this setting...

Today I work in a school with kids as young as 6 or as old as 16.  These kids are so neat.  They remind me that despite the cards I've been dealt, I have to pull up my boot straps and keep on truckin'!  These kids know no limits.  It was one such child that lead me to this path in the first place.  A sweet little girl named Emily.  I remember being completely enamored with her equipment and how she would stand even though she was in a wheelchair.  I loved seeing her on the floor.  She had a magnetic smile.  I will never forget her face.

When I was in high school I told my guidance counselor that I wanted to be in Physical Therapy.  I knew nothing about what a degree required, after all, she was supposed to tell me that, right?  She told me that my grades weren't good enough and directed me toward education.  I knew that wasn't the right path for me, but she was the expert.  Here I am countless years later, loving my job, being inspired every day, and making a difference.  In the school setting the differences that we make are on a smaller scale than that of the hospital.  But a child has a special way of melting my heart.

I can honestly say that I'm living the dream.  As I've read back on old posts I'm reminded of how much I fussed over my education and I wondered if it was worth it.  It totally was.  I would do it all again in a heartbeat if I had to.

Go find your dream; don't give up until you do.

Not A Perfect Mom

Most of my friends are in the midst of building their family, multiplying in numbers, having babies... Call it what you will.  I on the other hand am raising a pre-teen and a tween.  My girls are going through hormonal changes, friend drama, boyfriends and crushes, math homework, sports activities, and all things One Direction.  They have boy band posters covering their walls.  We have "The Best Song Ever" blaring throughout our house as two different girls listen to the same song in two different areas of the house at two different parts of the song competing in volume.  I get eye rolling, door slamming, the biggest most drawn out sigh you've ever heard, hands on hips, hair flipped over shoulder, and tears, tears, tears.  Some days I wonder how we are going to survive and still be "friends" when the dust settles.

I'm often asked by those friends who are raising small children, "Can you give me lessons on parenting? Your girls are so well behaved!"  In truth, this is one of the best compliments you could ever pay me.  My mission for the last 13 years has been to be the best mother that I can.  Some days I cry more than they do because I feel like a complete failure yet other days shed tears of pride at how amazing my children are.  Don't get me wrong, I can't take all the credit, but I think it's time for parents to take credit where credit is due in the good, the bad and the really, really ugly.  I can tell you where I fail my girls.  I can tell you the most hateful thing that has spewed out of my mouth as they have my blood boiling.  I can see my errors, my shortcomings, the gaps in my parenting on a fairly regular basis.  I know what part I can take credit for and I know what part I have to take credit for.

As to the key to my parenting, it is simple.  If I say I'm going to do it, I will, no need to test me.  They usually do and end up... crying.  And, I always, always think backwards.  What behaviors do I need to instill in my girls today so they are honest, respectful, trustworthy, accountable, humble, compassionate adults?  Is the behavior I'm allowing in line with my hope for their character?  I've asked myself this question so many times and so many times I've changed my response based on the answer.  It's really hard to be the mom who doesn't allow this or that or to be the mom who has high expectations.  But someday I want my girls to appreciate the lessons that they learned as children that some adults still don't have a grasp on today.

I'm grateful that I can't offer my kids the sun and moon and stars.  If I could, it will be really hard me to say no and for them to understand why I choose not to.  With all that I've done wrong, I hold onto hope that I've done enough right to give my girls their best possible chance at having a great character.

Bucket List

Normally I am not an early riser but this morning I was lying in bed next to my sleeping husband and that's always a recipe for a new blog though it rarely makes it to paper.  Here I sit at 7:30 on a Saturday morning...  this was NOT on my bucket list!  A few years ago my husband mentioned his "bucket list" and a few of the things he hopes to experience.  Since that time I have been developing my own list of  personal accomplishments.  My list doesn't involve crazy things like sky diving or cliff hanging.  My list of things may be more impossible to achieve. 

At the top of my list would be "to live the fairytale", even if only for a season, and I don't mean the wicked step-mother chapter!  In my marriage I want to be the perfect wife to my perfect husband with the ultimate in fairytale cliche.  To be swept off my feet...  like I said, next to impossible.

Next on my list would be to watch my girls grow into thriving young women who marry the love of their lives with joy and happiness abounding.

I would love to have validation that my life, my struggles, my efforts, some part of me made a positive impact on another human being.  As a wife, a mother, a friend, a therapist, or just as an acquaintance.  I want to know that my God used me in a way that made another life just a little brighter.

I want to have the power to slay my demons.  Each time you see my smile it hides constant worry, fear, failures, inadequacies, and pain.  I want to confidently smile knowing that I've conquered them all.

Several years ago I began to learn sign language.  I can muddle through a conversation and get my point across, but I would love to be fluent... This one could be an easy one to check off my list!

Of course travels are on my list along with some of the material objects usually associated with a midlife crisis (swimming pool and a convertible, oh, and another yorkie!), but when I think of my bucket list most of the items I would love to check off have to do with changing my perception, my expectation, and seeing the beauty in the smaller, mundane things.  I've learned that life doesn't often greet us with our hopes and dreams tied up in neat little bow unless we are able to appreciate the humble blessings.

Today it will be my goal to take one step closer to being the "perfect wife" to my husband, to make my daughters smile, and gain a foothold on one of those demons by winning just one battle.

A lonely day...

Today is one of those days that I need a place to write my innermost thoughts without anyone knowing they belong to me. Blogging is a healing process for me and seeing my thoughts appear into words is somehow soothing to my soul. 

After scripting an entire blog, letting my thoughts rest, and coming back to it several months later. I erased everything I never posted.  Sometimes raw emotion is too raw and too revealing even in a blog that rarely gets read.

The desire to write.

Sometimes I get this crazy urge to write.  When I say write, I mean write pages and pages of thoughts and emotions.  Those that make sense, and those that don't.  I want to write in the way my mind thinks no matter which way the wind blows.  I want to be heard but even more so, I want to hear myself.  Several times throughout my adulthood I have wanted to write a book.  The only problem with writing a book is that you assume you have sometime important to say.  My book would be my legacy to my daughters; a keepsake, a timeline.  I often wish this desire would go away, but by sitting down in front of a blank canvas, I feed the frenzy.  Sometimes I feel like I just need to acknowledge my own feelings.  If I don't, who else will? 

Those Days are LOOONG Gone...

Time is a funny thing.  One moment I'm wishing for this stage of life to pass and then next moment I'm looking back wondering where it went.  I remember, very distinctly, sitting on my bed when I was in 7th grade wondering what life must be like and how wonderful it all must be.  I remember wondering about who I would fall in love with, what my wedding day would look like... my future was an endless open book of blank pages just waiting for time to fill it all in.  The story of my life was written as I read it.

I felt infinate power to steer my destiny.  I wouldn't settle for anything less than what I saw in my dreams.  Time is funny...  now my dreams no longer revolve around me.  I have settled because it was the right thing to do.  In all reality, I haven't settled.  I have more than enough.  An amazing man loves me, I have two beautiful little girls with dreams of their own, and a God that's so big that people miss His blessings and grace.  I'm grateful for so much, in this season of life as well as seasons that have long passed.  I don't want to be standing at the end of my life and all I can remember is wishing away the time.  In the here and now... that's where I want to find my joy and contentment.  Right here, right now.

(Except I can't WAIT for my kitchen to be done!!!  ;D)

It's been a while...

As I sit here in the silence of my home with no children around, no husband playing his guitar, no television or radio, I notice the noise in my head which has been wearing me down for days. I find comfort in words and healing in expressing them. In a desperate attempt to quite the noise, I write.

A sealed envelope from a teacher is rarely a good thing. One such envelope has occupied my mind and continues to weigh heavy on my heart. My sweet little Lauren has had a problem with being bullied. It occurred in Preschool and then continued on in Kindergarten by a different child. I had to go all Erin Brockovich, but I've managed to back the school into a corner which in turn resulted in the removal of this problem child though it was into the 4th year of bullying. This sealed envelope was a hand written letter from the teacher expressing concerns regarding Lauren's lack of attention to detail in class, her lack of happiness, and lack of smile. What heart-breaking words to hear from a teacher about your child...

Since this letter I've been making it my mission to be slow to anger, give positive feedback, more "I love you"s, talking through the tough moments of the day and celebrating the joys. As a mom, I'm finding it incredibly difficult to handle this on my own. I'm feeling like my little girl could be at a crossroads and to steer her the wrong way or not to steer her at all could be life changing. Yet when I get ready to take that next step I feel the need to be cautious regarding her spirit. Do I really want her to know that at age 8 she needed counseling? I have struggled with depression. I've been to counselors. I have worked my butt off to maintain my own mental health. Each day includes some kind of mental health assessment on my part. I am careful about what I watch, what I read, who I give my heart to and how close I become with others... At 34 years old I have learned my limits. Do my limits include being able to coach my daughter without professional backup?

Parents will go to the ends of the earth to give to their children. Sometimes it really doesn't even matter what they are giving... I want to give my girls roots into a solid foundation and wings to have the confidence to go into the world and tackle it with all of their might. I can't think of a greater gift. My parenting philosophy has always been to work backwards. I envision my children in various stages of their lives. Who are they? What does their character look like? How do they handle the tough situations that life will inevitably throw them? Then I work backwards. What do I have to teach them now to mold them into the image in my mind. Please don't get me wrong. I'm not choosing their career or their passions or forcing them into a life path. I'm simply teaching them character by looking ahead. What do I want for them and what tools should I give them today to help them achieve it?

This brings me back to Lauren. When I look ahead into her life I wonder if a counselor will help her work through her thoughts and give her invaluable advice or will it do more damage by giving her co-dependant expectations? This stage of parenting is hard, emotionally; and I feel ill equipped.

Life and Death

Today I'm struggling with life and death matters. His life and his death matter to me. "He" is one of my patients. I work at a hospital where I encounter all kinds of people with all kinds of ailments on a regular basis. I learn something new and have renewed faith in people regularly, I've learned how I want to treat others by the way I would want people to treat my mom in such a setting, and my heart breaks for the loneliness and brokeness that so many people feel. Today one of my "friends" had a birthday. Yesterday her tear-filled eyes asked me to do her a favor. "Will you get me a little doggie or teddy bear if I give you some money?" Today tears filled her eyes as she hugged Patches, her new fuzzy friend.

When a patient gets to go home or move on to another facility, I celebrate their progress and wish them the best. Sometimes I'm reminded of them and I smile, wondering how they're doing, and I go on with my day. Some exits are more somber. He is trying to die with dignity. A gentleman always knows when it's time to go. "Dawn, you are supurb," He tells me in a weak voice, "you're husband is a lucky man." All I could do was thank him softly and hold his hand. It was an emotional day for me because I care, maybe more than I should. My compassion has yet to be toughened and my heart yet to be hardened. Maybe it's just a bad day for my friend, but maybe the end is drawing near. What will I find when I go to work in the morning? Only time will tell. My wish for him is peace like a river and sleep everlasting with an awakening to streets of gold that will never fade or tarnish.

"Time"

Today I was asked to give a gift that I don't have the power to give. As I was making my rounds in the hospital I treated a gentleman in the ICU. After the treatment I was handing him the nurse call button and making sure his phone was handy. I patted him on the shoulder and told him he did a great job, offered him some tissues, and asked if there was anything else I could get for him. His answer... his answer brings tears to my eyes at this moment just as it did when I was standing by his side. "Time". He wants more time. I couldn't speak. I couldn't respond. How callous I must have looked to him. Little does he know he's been on my mind all day. I'm sure he is reflecting on his life; smiling at the great moments but brokenhearted over the mistakes and imagining life going on without him. At this man's bedside was a picture of Jesus. He's just not ready to go home. What could I have said to offer comfort? What would Jesus have said? I've said it so many times and here I say it again... most of the lessons I'm learning in the hospital aren't about physical therapy but about patient care. I'm not sure where God wants me to end up and I don't know how good I will be as a therapist, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I care. I care about the sweet little lady who calls me "honey", I care about the guy with the great sense of humor, and I care about the man who no one wanted to work with because he had a bad attitude and abused the staff with his words. I care. It's the biggest lesson I've learned.

Dear Lord, my new friend in ICU wants more time. I'm not sure what your plan is for him whether his life is numbered in weeks or years, but please give him the peace he needs in order to live the rest of his days in contentment. Give him the opportunity to say the things he needs to say to those that he loves the most. Please, Lord, grant him peace.

A little understanding closes the gap.

I went to high school with a girl who was different than me. Years later we have reconnected on myspace and our paths are still very distant, maybe more so than ever. We've commented on each others blogs here and there, sent each other a message or two, but when it comes right down to it we are strangers who used to know one another. Through our casual conversations, and despite our obvious differences, I've found that we have a lot of similarities. We are both mothers to two beautiful little girls. We have both walked long, hard roads at some point in our lives. We have both been hurt and have had to press on with new and painful scars. Above all though, we both want to love and be loved. Recently, this girl posted a blog speaking truth about people who have influenced her, both good and bad. I was really surprised to find my name listed among the others. At first I thought maybe she was referring to someone else but after I read the post, I knew it was talking about me. Her comment was this:

"Dawn: Forces me to believe in a lot (not all) but a lot of the better good of people. You have been more kind, sharing and supportive than most of my "non-christian" friends have ever been....you're someone who should down right reject even the idea of me and you don't. I have a lot of admiration for you."

What kinder words could be spoken? She may never know this, but this is what I stand on. The very core of my being, every ounce of what I believe, has made an impact on a life so very different than my own.

Speak boldly but gently.

Meet others where they are and give what you have.

Be ready because you never know when it's your turn to wear the halo.

"The Single Most Thrilling Moment of my Life"...

As my husband was putting the first piece of drywall in place on the ceiling in the basement, he turns to me and asks if it was everything I had hoped it would be. Needless to say, I've been wanting this project to get underway and with the materials sitting in the basement there wasn't much of an excuse. As exciting as it was seeing that first piece of a very large ceiling go into place, it wasn't as I had teased "the single most thrilling moment of my life". This movie quote prompted me to ask my husband what has the most thrilling moment been in his life. As he usually does with deep questions like this, he hesitates to answer and says "This is a question with no right answer and a whole lotta wrong ones." While I can appreciate his thoughts on my question, I still wanted an answer. I assumed his answer had something to do with his career as a fireman, but his answer was "Well, there's nothing quite like standing on a football field with 30,000 people yelling and cheering." He was referring to his Phantom Regiment days. Then Tony turned the question on me.

What was the most thrilling moment in my life? I didn't... I don't have an answer, and even if I did, it would pale in comparison to my husbands. Any moments in my life that I would consider thrilling, he would have been right by my side. I have many, many fond and favorite memories... becoming a mommy for the first time and then again for the second time, becoming someones wife, living my own dream come true as I laid eyes on the Disney castle for the first time, learning forgiveness that was long overdue, seeing a daisy with new eyes, knowing God's will was being done and that He was using me to make a difference... so many times in my life have brought me to this place. Yet I can't lay a finger on a single moment and call it the best. In a way I feel cheated. Why can't I recall the best moment of my life? Did it pass me by without appreciation? Then I think that maybe my moments are all so precious that I can't choose one over another. I live a fairly simple life with simple plans and hopes. My expectations are simple and fairly few, despite what my husband would say.

As I go one with my night and with the days to come, I know this question will be tucked away in the back of my mind. I hope I find contentment as I continue to search for the answer.

A ho-hum day...

Today was cloudy and overcast just like my mood. It seems I only blog when I'm needing to get something off my chest and words seems to be my best medicine.

Today I got up and went to my school to talk to some potential incoming PTA students about the program. It's a time to have questions answered and hear a little bit of reality about the program before they commit. A second year student was there speaking as well, and I found her to be a little ray of sunshine in this otherwise drab day. She talked about how much she struggled the first year of the program, which is where I am, and then she talked about how much better the second year is. The PTA program is a 2 year, 5 semester, program. I'm in my 3rd semester of my first year. I'm looking forward to a schedule of lighter bookwork and more clinical experience. How I would love to be in her shoes... in a month she takes her boards for certification. A year from now that will be me. I will be 32 years old and just stepping into a career. I've missed so much time. Almost daily I regret the day where I let my high school academic advisor stear me wrong. I'm looking forward to my summer, though. I have no classes and no job. I get to spend the summer with my girls. I have big plans; sun, camping, sun, swimming, and more sun. I can't wait. Only 17 more class days!

Hearts At Home

I recently went to the Hearts at Home National Conference. It's hosted at ISU campus in Bloomington, IL and I 've been going for the past 5 years. Outside of getting some much needed time away from home and getting to giggle with friends until we cry, I always come home with a wealth of new knowledge. Some ideas are perfectly simple in theory but next to impossible to stick to, while others seem like they would never work and end up being a life savior! Each year I choose my workshops so that I cover my parenting shortcomings as well as gain some valuable marriage advice. This year one of my workshops was called "5 Minutes Until Goodbye". This is one workshop that I requested, but when it showed up on my list I wanted to shy away. When I sat at my computer and read the blurb, I thought I could really use the insight that this woman would provide. It clearly would be sad and heart-wrenching, but worth it. When it came time to walk away from my friends to go to our individual workshops, I started regretting such a deep subject on such a fun day. I made a plan to meet up with my friends for lunch and went my own way. I paused and turned to see if I could still catch up with a few of them and then continued on my path.

I selected a seat off to the side and toward the back of the auditorium. Ladies around me were chatting and giggling and digging through their bags to find the small package of tissues provided at the start of the conference. As I sat there I evaluated why I felt the need to get up and walk out of the room... My husband is a firefighter. My constant fear is that he will go to work and I'll get a devastating phone call or visit from the fire chief reporting an accident. What if I really only had 5 minutes to say goodbye? What if I didn't even have that?

The speaker brought us all to tears with her personal testimony of her relationship with her husband. She spoke of a relationship so strong that there was nothing left unsaid. Her story encouraged me and scared me all at once. Her husband is still alive but with his health she never knows when a hug may be the last. She values him each and every moment of each and every day. I want to be like that. I want to know that when my husband leaves for work I would have no regrets if I never get to chat with him again. I want to make sure nothing is left unsaid, especially "I'm sorry". We've been married for almost 9 years. We've had some really tough times and I have wanted to walk away because it seemed easier than all the fighting.

Now I know that 9 years isn't enough time with him.

Oscars

For the past several years I would go to a friend's house for an Oscar party. Each party couple would pick from one of the movies up for Best Picture and make a dish revolved around or pertaining to that movie. We would eat, critique gowns, eat, drool over a few stars, and watch the winners give their speeches. We also voted on our Oscar picks and the winner got a gift certificate to the movies. Sadly this year I am unable to go. When I checked my school schedule to see if I would be swamped with homework I had no idea that one project in particular would take so much time. So tonight, rather than watch the stars on the red carpet, I get to sit at Starbucks studying. Bummer.

Throughout my life I've had some really neat people come and go. Some friends are here for a short time and then distance separates us for whatever reason, while other friends stay the course and stick around for life. High school was a great time for me. I had struggles going on at home, but the only memories that stick out in my mind are the ones of staying up late giggling with girlfriends, that fluttery feeling of a new crush, or the feeling of Independence that I know must have made my mom crazy! Somehow I felt loved and wanted... popular among my clique.

Recently some old friends have resurfaced in my life. I can't help but think that our friendship has a purpose if God brought us back together after so much distance. Maybe I need them... maybe they need me. It's neat to reconnect and feel like time stood still. Once again you are back in high school, giggling, laughing out loud as you recall all of your inside jokes and most precious memories. Those days and those friends got me through times that I hope my children never have to go through. Somehow I came out of it all with my head held high and a smile on my face.

A wise, old friend once wrote that with each person we meet we are changed just by knowing them. We leave a legacy, a fingerprint, on each heart we encounter. To my dear, sweet friends, thank you for the fingerprint you left on my heart. My life has been so much sweeter since you have been a part of it.

A Cookies and Milk Kind of Night

I had a long day and still have things left to accomplish. After class I rested, got up to clean, fed my girls, had a phone conversation or two, read an AR book, gave a friend a massage, fed the dogs and said "good night" to my husband. Now I sit here alone with my text books open and my to do list sitting beside me trying to decide what to do next.

As I think back to the days of grade school and high school and even my early college days I remember how hard it was to sit and study without daydreaming or rushing through the text to get to the end. If I look at all the pages I must be done, right? Tonight I want to do the same thing... skim the pages and hope that something sticks for my quiz tomorrow.

I'd love nothing more than to cuddle up on the couch with my Yorkie in my lap, a cookie in one hand and a glass of cold milk in the other, and watch a movie. Sadly, I have to settle for a chair at the table with my Yorkie at my feet and a powerpoint lecture on total knee replacement occupying my mind. Someday it's all going to pay off, isn't it?

A tantruming 5 year old

At dinner tonight Lauren decided to have one of her 5 year old breakdowns. This all started when she was trying to carry her plate to the dinner table like a waitress (balanced on one hand above her shoulder). Her dad told her to hold it with two hands and she argued with him but gave in and carried it the right way. Then she wanted a second helping of green beans and brought her plate to the counter. I gave her another helping and as I turned back around I heard her plate hit the floor. Guess what... she was again trying to be a waitress again. I didn't say a word and she burst into tears. She knew she was caught doing just what she was told NOT to do. This brought forth a tailspin of tears and tantrums from our beautiful 5 year old, who is not quite able to make it through the day without a nap. She was excused from the table and sent to her room... I'm sure by now she is sleeping. Oh, the joys of motherhood!

Today was an encouragment...

Today I had my midterm evaluation in my clinical setting. My clinical instructor (CI) wrote up his evaluation of my progress thus far and my classroom instructor, Alice, came to visit and check in as she does with all her students. My evaluation was full of kind words and compliments that I so needed to hear. I needed to have some validation that I am really doing as well as I feel like I am. Alice commented to me today and also mentioned to my CI that I'm one of her strongest students. I couldn't help but to smile gently on the outside but on the inside I could hardly sit still! I have worked so hard and my family has given up so much for me to be doing this. Her words of affirmation mean so much more than she could ever know. I can't tell you how many times I've wondered if my education is taking too much away from my husband and my children. To make up for me not working, my husband is working a full time job, a regular part time job, and as many side jobs as he can to keep our home running. My girls have to make due with a television babysitter while I'm studying or completing an assignment rather than have me reading to them and spending time together.

Is this all coming at too high a price? Only if I fail.

My Soul Mate

Yesterday was Valentine's Day. We had no special plans for the night, no expectations. Then my husband's mom gives us the gift of a night out... just the two of us. Dinner and a show without the girls, without being the mom, I could focus on being me and giving my husband the attention he deserves. We had a great time together but hurried back to get our girls. We put them to bed and our date continued.

I looked at my husband last night. I saw him. The man that I get grouchy at when he sits in front of the computer endlessly, the one who leaves his shoes right in the walking path, the man who always seems to be walking out the door... I looked into his eyes and saw my life, my future. I could see that he loves me without conditions, truly and fully. He has given his life to me as much as I have given my life to him. We each have had to make sacrifices to be where we are. A little part of each individual is chipped away as we grow together. I'm not the same person he fell in love with, nor is he the same person I fell in love with. Yet, I'm amazed that with each breath I take I find myself more in love than ever.

We always say that we "fit". When we lay side by side in each other's arms we "fit", we are like a puzzle that may match colors with other pieces but when it comes right down to it, no other pieces will fit together so perfectly. I can't say how I know for sure, but I just know beyond a shadow of a doubt that no other person can be all that my husband is for me. The day I realized that was so precious. When I find myself frustrated I think back to my moment of certainty. It's a moment I treasure enough to not let it be ruined by words. I only wish all lovers could find such validation in their mate.

My Dance

Sometimes I feel like the weight of the world is dancing on my shoulders and I just can't seem to join in the fun. I'm not sure what holds me back and keeps me in my chair. Somewhere I got the idea that I have to "be a lady". Immediately this sets me apart. I often wonder if there is another world that I belong in. Don't get me wrong, I am not unhappy, not in the least. I just feel misunderstood. I sit back with my hands folded gently in my lap with a smile pasted on my face watching other people in the spotlight. Maybe it's fear of being a fool, or that I'm just not brave, maybe it's because your opinion of me is worth more than my own.

In my own mind I see myself doing great things and being needed; I have a purpose outside of my home. Is this pride? Is it vanity? What gives me the desire to be great but keeps me in my seat all at the same time? I want to be more than I am. I want to fly to great heights and feel the excitement of success. Not necessarily success in the traditional sense. I don't need bucket fulls of money and fame is of no interest to me. I want success in the form of being great at what I do and who I am. I would consider myself a success if a friend told me I saved her marriage, or my husband were to tell me that the amazing man he is today is a result of being with me... I would be a success if my children were to grow up into amazing woman after God's own heart. When I graduate and start a career I want people to choose me as their therapist, not only because I know what I'm doing, but because my touch and my way gives them hope and comfort. I want to leave a fingerprint on this world even if in the smallest of ways; a legacy that my children can be proud of... that I can be proud of.

So while the world dances, I will just sit back and wait. My turn will come and when it does I will gracefully stand and join the dance.

My first...

I know lots of people, mostly woman, who blog about their life and children. I have done so myself on many occasions. Usually my audience is geared toward my MySpace friends. I enjoy writing so much, however, that I decided to branch out with some anonymity. A place to be 100% me with no expectations. I've often thought that I should start journaling, but putting pen to paper is so hard for me. I can't count how many times I hit the backspace key until my words appear on screen just as they are in my head. Welcome to my world of dreams, fears, and fanstasy. So many thoughts and now the perfect place to jot them down.