It’s hard to believe it’s been 27 years since the day we met, my life hasn’t been the same since.
Not everyone believes in love at first sight, but I do. We are proof it can happen. To be honest, I was head over heels for him before we were introduced, something inside me just knew he was the one. The one who would transform me, the one who would always love me as much as I loved him, the one who would change my whole world.
And he was. He still is.
After months of getting to know each other, I was more than anxious to meet him, I have to admit though, I wasn’t quit ready for the way it happened. We were in the midst of finalizing our plan to meet when he decided he simply couldn’t wait and began his journey to me a whole month before I was expecting him to arrive. I was thrilled, but nervous. I thought I’d have more time to clean up the house, maybe get a haircut, and have everything just perfect when he got there.
His arrival changed the way I thought about perfection, it wasn’t always something you planned, it wasn’t always the way you thought it was going to be. Sometimes, perfect was simply in the eyes of the beholder.
I will never forget the moment we saw each other, I saw my future shining in his eyes. I did see perfection. When I reached for his hand and his fingers touched mine I felt everything I’d never felt before, I melted into him and held him so close. I vowed to love him, without condition until the day my last breathe leaves me.
He is a precious, precious piece of my heart, my first truer than true love.
Happy birthday, my beautiful son . . .
PRIDE – prīd/
Noun – a feeling or deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one’s own achievements, the achievements of those with whom one is closely associated, or from qualities or possessions that are widely admired.
Pleasure, joy, delight, gratification, fulfillment, satisfaction, a sense of achievement, taking pride in a job well done.
Verb – be especially proud of a particular quality or skill. Be proud of oneself for, take pride in, take satisfaction in, congratulate oneself on, pat oneself on the back.
Day 5 – Blogging Challenge
Your Proudest Moment
I’ve experienced many moments of pride in my life, from the monumental to the minuscule. For instance, I created life. Several times. Monumental. This morning, I woke up on time. Minuscule. Choosing a proudest moment is harder than it sounds. Some of those moments are emotional, tear producing, fist-pumping, yee-fricking-haw inducing, and others simply produce a genuine smile, a feeling of satisfaction that make us give ourselves a mental high-five or hearty personal pat on the back.
Pride is a good thing as long as it isn’t boastful or arrogant, feeling pride in ourselves is what spurs us forward, that feeling of a job well done is well deserved and important. We don’t always give ourselves enough credit for the things we do and that can lead to feelings of low self-esteem. We are worthy of feeling proud of ourselves, even if it’s something as seemingly insignificant as not forgetting to put the wash in the dryer. Goodness knows I’m proud of myself when I remember that, (even when I’ve already had to re-run it twice).
Instead of choosing a single proudest moment, I think I’ll instead list a few memorable ones from the archives of my mind. Some are big, some are small, but I’ve felt some level of pride in each of them . . .
So, in no particular order or amount of pride felt – a sampling of my proudest moments.
The births of my children.
Potty-training each of them.
Graduating high school.
My first perfectly poached egg. (perfectly may be overstating it, but it was poached)
Publishing my first poem.
Seeing my first article in print.
Every time I see my words in print.
Landing my first job.
Watching my children graduate.
Learning how to work my VCR. Yes, VCR. I’m still trying to figure out the DVD player.
Buying our own home.
Watching my daughter walk down the aisle and say, “I do”.
Surviving a million IEP meetings without explosive rage.
Almost 27 years so far of damn good parenting.
Every year I celebrate my wedding anniversary.
Hearing my mother say she is proud of me.
Being strong each time I feel weak.
Figuring out how to send a picture in a text.
Lettering in high school dance and choir.
Surviving and overcoming things in life that could have broken me.
Raising 2 special needs children and seeing them become so much more that some thought they would ever be.
Not breaking every dish I’ve ever owned.
Saying no to cake sometimes.
When I make someone else smile.
Remembering my grocery list when I go to the store.
Turning off Netflix before the next episode starts when it’s way past my bedtime.
Helping others navigate through their journey with autism.
Receiving a heartfelt thank you for being there for someone else.
I’m sure I’d feel a little more pride if this were a slightly more extensive and impressive list, but I’m kind of proud of myself for getting this far. Me and my words have been kept away from each other by unexpected and unfortunate circumstances of late, which is why day 5 of this blogging challenge is just now being completed 56 days since it was started. I’m not proud of that. Wait, yes I am! I could have just said, aww – forget it, but I didn’t. I suppose that particular example may be stretching the limits of things to feel pride in, but then again, accomplishment is accomplishment, right? I’m going to let myself feel a wee bit of pride in this one.
Think about your day, what are you proud of? Every day we do something – little things, big things, and in-between things that we can be proud of. Give yourself that pat on the back – I know you deserve it . . .
Mother’s Day ~ I’m sure you’ve seen it, BUT, it’s like potato chips, they say you can’t just eat one, and this is like that except you don’t eat it, you watch it and you can’t just watch it just once, at least I can’t.
I’ve posted it somewhere online every Mother’s Day since I found it and will continue to do so until there is no more internet or the world implodes (or explodes) or I’m kidnapped and without wifi on Mother’s Day or something like that. PLUS, unlike potato chips, it won’t make you fat, laughter burns calories, right?
Last year I posted it under the title Early Mother’s Day – I may have peed a little the first time I watched this – Every now and then, I still get a message from someone chastising me for using the word ‘peed’. Maybe I should have said tinkled instead, so this year, I’m giving it a shot. Fact is, I could have wet myself laughing, in a few more years I likely will.
Umm, so anyway . . .
I’m just going to say a few words in honor of Mother’s Day and then you can watch it, unless you just want to skip to the end and watch it without reading anything I have to say, (which would totally hurt my feelings).
So – Mother’s Day ~ the one day of the year we take special time out to say thank you to the person who brought us into this world. The woman who nurtured us from a tiny little egg into a living, breathing, screaming, pooping, helpless, demanding creature which required nourishment and protection and teaching from the moment it breathed its first breath, the woman who will continue to do so until the moment she breathes her last.
I know, not all mothers were created equally. Some deserve saint status, some maybe didn’t quite reach those lofty heights of motherhood, and some, well . . . some were really sucky. Some of the ones we honor aren’t the ones that gave us life, but the ones who taught us how to live it. Some where there from the beginning, some came into our lives later. Some share our blood, others share a bond forged with love instead of strands of DNA. Some are still with us, a phone call or a drive away, others live on in our hearts and our memories.
Some of us celebrate this day, some of us are celebrated on this day, (and some of us are celebrating as well as being celebrated.) Soon-to-be-moms, new moms, veteran moms, moms with toddlers, house-apes, preteens, teens and * ahem * adult children. Moms who hold their children, moms who never had the chance, moms who no longer can – All mothers, regardless of how long they’ve stood watch over their children, regardless of where their children are – If there was life within them for even a moment, they are mothers and they deserve to be revered and honored and cherished.
My mother was and still is an amazing mother and I love and honor and cherish and respect and admire and adore her to that proverbial moon and back again more times than there are stars in the sky above.
I kind of like Mother’s Day, I like the love behind the intention of Mother’s day at least – Mother’s May hasn’t always gone as I’d imagined it would when I had children though. Nope, not quite like I’d imagined. As a matter of fact, years ago I kind of nixed Mother’s day from our family agenda. I mean, not literally, I just decided that I’d rather have my kids wish me a Happy Mother’s Day and then let me go off and have a Happy Mother’s Day. At the bookstore. Without them. This tradition began after my kids were no longer young children, mind you. It wasn’t a decision made lightly either, easily, but not lightly.
See, the kiddos and the hubs always seemed to try so hard to make it a special day for me, they usually ended up stressed out and one or more of us would end the day in a jumble of frazzled nerves and sometimes tears. With four kids, two with special needs, we needed to keep things low-key, so by the time the youngest was old enough to spend a few hours home with the older ones, I found a way for them to give me the special day they longed for me to have. I left the house.
I do miss those hand-made cards with my children’s tiny hand-prints traced on them and the sweet little crayon colored pictures with a smiling sunshine and a rainbow above the heads of our 11 fingered stick figure family standing next to flowers that came to our waistlines, and the wobbly little letters that spelled out ‘I love you mommy’. I wouldn’t mind a few more of those . . .
Happy Mother’s Day to all you amazing women out there who have been blessed with the title of ‘MOM”.
Now watch this and share it with other moms – all the moms!
I intended to write and post my Day Four – Blogging Challenge rambling on the fourth day from the first day I challenged myself with said blogging challenge, which means it should have been written and (hopefully) read by whomever may read my words on the 19th of March. I skipped a day (as it explains below) and began the post on March 20th. That was a while ago, today is April 27th. My 30 days have passed and I am just getting back on track with day four. Of course, no specific guidelines were set to specify the 30 days had to be consecutive, so failure to complete the challenge I challenged myself with, (and it has been a challenge to keep up with the challenge), Where was I? Ah, – So, failure to complete the challenge is not something I can be charged with. Not yet, I can’t predict the future of course, obviously or the events which impeded my progress may have been avoided, or at the very least worked in or around my schedule. Not that I have a schedule, it just sounds good when one says they do, which I don’t.
So here’s what happened. My sister had a baby. Ahead of schedule. Way ahead of schedule. (apparently no one in my family is great with schedules). As of today, she is still supposed to be curled up in my sister’s womb and getting ready to greet the world, she just couldn’t wait so all 4 pounds of her insisted her way into the world. She is beautiful and incredibly strong and I cannot wait to hold her in my arms. Little booger. One day, I’m making her pay me back for the ridiculously expensive last minute flights we had to book.
So I flew off to Oklahoma to watch my mother’s dogs and her home so she could fly off to Alaska to be with my sister and her earlier than expected teeny-tiny bundle of joy. Two days later I fell on a bit of uneven and jagged pavement, there was minor blood, quite a bit of pain to left sides of both feet, my right knee and right elbow (how I managed to hit to so many parts of me I’ve no Idea, I imagine anyone who might have witnessed my terrible tumble would have been impressed and likely overcome with laughter – I can assure you that would have been my reaction, filled with concern as well, of course. A trip to the ER, x-rays, (nothing broken, though I was sure I would be), three days of pain pills and two weeks of limping later and I was basically back to normal and watching my steps with slightly more care.
During that time, I dropped and shattered my phone on another bit of that uneven, jagged pavement. It spent the rest of my trip, right up to the day before we left in the repair shop.
The good – there was a lot of good.
I had time with my mom, just a couple of days before she left and nine more when she returned, not nearly enough, but I cherish every second with her.
Spending time with my precious daughter and her adorably wonderful husband. She keeps a piece of my heart there with her.
I got to hug my grandmother and my aunt and my beautiful little second-cousins, I didn’t hug my cousin though, I wanted to, but she was a few days away from a c-section and looked like she might bite, so we just sat and had a little visit.
The Half Price Bookstore. Aside from the family that reside there, this little shop is one of the best things about Oklahoma. Let’s just say I had to invest in extra luggage to bring home my acquisitions.
The non-California weather. The cool breezes, sitting on the porch in the darkest part of the night as rain poured and thunder boomed, watching the sky turn to day for a moment at a time with each strike of lightning.
There is more of course – good, great, blah, and blech, (more of the good than the rest), and it would take up more time than I have open on my schedule, at least on your schedule (you probably have one), plus, there is the car accident that happened shortly after we arrived home to tell you all about, so I will save whatever else I have to say for another day.
In the meantime, I’ll finish up Day Four of the blogging challenge and post it soon, you know, as soon as my schedule allows . . . For now, I’ll leave you with what I started before I closed the cover on this laptop over a month ago for an adventure in the real world –
Day Four – Your Dream Job
Day four of this 30 day blogging challenge, technically day 5 since I skipped yesterday, but I’ve already forgiven myself and moved passed the guilt, there wasn’t much guilt to absolve myself of, practically none as a point of fact. I did other worthy things instead. Hubby took me to my favorite place and I spent an hour (closer to two) roaming the aisles of the bookstore and perusing the back covers and inside flaps of books that caught my eye. I gathered up an armload of treasures, ordered a venti iced coffee (with half & half and classic sweetener) as well as a gluten-free rice krispie marshmallow bar in a crinkly cellophane wrapper and took up residence at a tiny, round table in the corner that was just big enough to stack my books, and place my coffee far enough from the edge to avoid a disastrous, and likely heartbreaking, spill.
My half of the table is always too full, my husband’s half typically has a neat stack of magazines upon which the current issue of whatever he is skimming lay open. Hot Bike, Hot Rod, Guns & Ammo – Yesterday there was even one with a photo of Martha Stewart on the cover. He complains we go to the bookstore too often, but he always goes. He gets frappuccinos sometimes and I always give him the last quarter of my rice krispie bar.
I did other things of note as well, I didn’t complain when we went to the hardware store and patiently waited while he stood before the selection of nuts and bolts and screws with almost as much intensity and scrutiny as I must have exhibited when faced with the new releases or the *now in paperback * display. As a side note, I prefer to have a collection of hardcovers, but my wallet appreciates the paperback prices. There were other things too, I ate, I breathed, I read, I watched Grimm. Just things. It was a chill kind of day.
I was supposed to be doing other things though. Laundry, making a grocery list, etc.. I tend to procrastinate my procrastination, as I am doing right now. I haven’t even broached the topic for day four, which is * your dream job *. Now that it has been broached, I’ll cease rambling and if you’re still following, tell you about my dream job.
When I was young I wanted to be many things, not the typical things my classmates aspired to be anyway. I dreamed of being an archaeologist, a big-rig truck driver, and a vampire, (a good one though). After I got my driver’s license I scratched truck driver off my list. I found out I did not like sharing the road with other drivers. I suppose in a rig I could’ve exacted my revenge upon the mindless masses that filled the highway, but those kind of fantasies are best left to wither. Sounds too much like the plot of a cheesy 80s film.
I nixed vampirism off my list as well, I never could find anyone to turn me and people thought I was weird when I asked. It’s not like I was a psycho or anything, I wasn’t going to feed on people, I’d be a vegan vamp or something. Whatever, it’s a dead dream.
So there was archaeology. I sort of, kind of, (not really even remotely) fulfilled that desire after I had children. My first digs (if you can call them that, and I just did) took place under couches and cushions and overfilled toy boxes in search of lost pacifiers and toys that couldn’t be lived without for even ten stinking seconds so I could pee. Eventually, my excavating prowess led me to the laundry bins where I sought out tiny treasures, bits of crayons, coins, wrappers, crackers, half eaten french fries, and the occasional hot dog. That happened. The list is extensive. Thank God I found that hot dog before it found it’s way to the spin cycle.
I did have one other dream in which I dreamed I would be a librarian, and I suppose that brings me to the point of this prompt. My dream job would be to be a librarian, but since we’re talking dream job here, I wouldn’t be an ordinary librarian in an ordinary library. No, no, no – I would be an extraordinary librarian in and extra-extra-extraordinary library. It would be called Bibliothece Ammirandus, or something cool and latin people would have to look up if they didn’t understand latin, which I don’t. I’m not even certain which would come first, bibliothece or ammirandus. I have a list of words to choose from, all cool and mostly unknown to the general public –
To Be Continued . . .
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7 weeks already! Time flies when you’re having a blast!
If you haven’t yet joined in all the fun, now is the perfect time – Click on over and share a throwback post with us, read what others have shared, and take a moment to show them a little TBT love!
Simple. This link party is not about dropping a bunch of links and moving on. No, this is about sharing posts from our blogs that are at least 30 days old. You can shine it up so it sparkles again or just leave it as it is. You might want to include an update at the end or not. It’s all up to you. As long as the post was written and published a month ago, add it to the link up. Then, read and share some love to the other posts in the link up.
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I love quotes. Love, love love them. Use ‘em all the time. These days though, they make me nervous. Before the internet came along, I trusted the quotes I happened to be partial to were actually said by the people who were said to have said them, but now . . . I question the accuracy of their authenticity each time I come across a new one and I cringe when I stumble upon an old favorite with credit given where credit is not due.
For instance, I happen to know Martin Luther King Jr. did not say, “Everything that is done in the world is done by hope.” That was another Martin Luther, in the 16th century. I also know that Confucius never said, “A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step.” Lau-Tzu was the author of those 12 words. Many love this quote by Nelson Mandela, “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.” Except Mandela didn’t say it, Marianne Wilson did.
It’s astounding how many misattributed, misworded, and false quotes have been given a life of their own, thanks in part to the fast-paced, non-fact checking, meme generating masses with an internet connection. You’d be surprised, or maybe you wouldn’t, at the number of quotes attributed to Twain and Einstein alone that were spoken by someone else.
That being said, I’d be hard pressed to come up with a * favorite * quote, I find such beauty and inspiration and comfort and wisdom in so many – each has a special meaning. Some make me laugh, some bring tears to my eyes. Some fill me with peace and hope and joy, others make me think and question and teach me something new, or provide gentle reminders to remember something I may have forgotten.
Quotes can become powerful moments of epiphany or silent sentries of reflection, they can change our perspective or solidify our own thoughts. We come to cherish them, we breathe them in and they flow through our veins. It only makes sense that we honor those who first uttered those words, those who took the time to pen them to a page, to credit them with proper reverence and respect by getting their names right.
When I began to listen to poetry...you begin to learn to listen to the soul, the soul of yourself in here, which is also the soul of everyone else. ~Joy Harjo~
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