…but this poster makes me want to run again — so I can think about it — and crack up as I go…
On March of this year we went to San Diego (yes, I am playing serious catch-up on this Rad blog). We went with a home school group to Sea World, and no, we weren’t home schooling back then but I believe in not letting school get in the way of my children’s education (thanks Mark Twain). My incredible niece, let’s call her “Chuck”, allowed us to stay with her and her hubby and then she accompanied us to Sea World.
Touching this starfish was a big accomplishment (Chunk #1 would have nothing to do with it)
Chunk #2 gave this Dolphin the endearing name of “Dolphy”. Later, after she was splashed, she felt differently.
At the temple
Ain’t she great?
The next day we did our usual trip to the Mormon Battalion
After this I went looking for the IKEA. I thought for sure I could remember where it was. I couldn’t. After passing the zoo twice, the historic district and a certain mall five times, I gave up. The Chunks were patient but very tired so I headed for La Jolla and we found-
The. Best. Tide-pool. Beach. Ever.
It was a Thursday afternoon. No one was around. This was OUR beach (for about an hour anyway). It was one of those perfect moments in my life.
Chunk #1, you told me that your favorite part of this beach was seeing the little crabs and seashells and sea anemones.
Chunk #2, your favorite memory of this beach was touching the sea anemones that were covered in sea shells.
“I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”
Jack’s quote from “On the Road” makes me feel better about myself.
I recall a discussion with my mother many years ago. She is a realist. I am not. There are a few times in my life where this made us clash (just a bit). The discussion was based on my disposition of being interested in too many things. I didn’t understand. What was wrong with wanting to learn piano, violin, dance, swimming, basketball, volleyball, softball, photography and still manage going to school? Later in life I tried my hand in drawing, modern dance, long distance running, racquetball, tennis, writing, mountain biking, and who knows what else. I thought this was normal. My mom’s point was that if I didn’t discipline myself in just a few areas I will master nothing. Well, of course she was right. But, my disposition hasn’t changed. These days I continue spreading myself too thin. These days I would love to learn to cook and bake better, sew better, make quilts, learn woodworking, gardening, guitar, be organized, read more, learn more at home renovation (?!), do another triathlon, go back to the piano, be a better mommy, learn about herbs, and write, write, write.
“I like too many things” but I won’t fight it anymore. I’ve stopped chastising myself. I will keep chasing stars and getting confused. I love this world. I want to experience everything in it. Is it bad that I’ll never master anything?
I don’t feel like answering that right now.
For now, I’ll just write about it. This blog is not a niche blog. I’ve not mastered the art of motherhood or wifehood. My writing is amateur. My photography is mostly stolen from my husband. And everything else will get thrown in the mess. “I have nothing to offer . . . but my own confusion.”
What stars have you been chasing lately?
It would be good if we all had our own instruction manual. We could throw in topics like, “How to thoroughly charm me,” or “This is my ‘love language’ and why,” or “What to do in case of mood swings.”
Here is a section on “Things that annoy me:”
#1 -Please don’t touch me with your feet. I don’t like anyone putting their feet on me with out permission. If you want to touch me with your feet, you must ask first. And since most people don’t ask to do such things why don’t you just not put your feet on me, ok? Thank you.
#2 If I tell you I hate cats and I have a long history of reasons to hate cats, please don’t insist on acting like one around me. That’s right, don’t meow at me and refuse to speak English. Please especially don’t do this while rubbing your feet on me.
#3 When I’m on the computer ….please…. just don’t touch me. This sounds a little “OCD,” I know, but it used to be that I just didn’t want to be mauled. Then I didn’t want to have anyone on my lap. Then I didn’t want anyone rubbing their nose on me. Then I didn’t want anyone leaning on me. Now, I just don’t even want to be touched. If you must touch me, please wait until I’m done stressing out over whatever it is I’m working on at the computer. Thanks. Also, if you need my attention while I’m at the computer, do not impatiently repeat my name over and over if you expect a civil response from me.
Perhaps these are things I should work on. Perhaps. But for now, this is part of my instruction manual (Especially right now…while I’m working at the computer…. with my “attention starved” “cat children” around me).
What’s in your instruction manual? I won’t judge your quirks, I promise.
If you know El Jefe and me, you know that we enjoy the “vintage”. We like “retro”. We are “unique buyers”. Eh, say it how you like, we are thrift store shoppers. And, I have to say, I have some seriously awesome thrift store finds. Boots, coats, dresses, jeans, skirts…….our LIME GREEN CHAIR that has lasted our whole marriage……I could go on but I shall spare you.
I will add, thrift store shopping takes work. There are even blogs dedicated to sharing the secrets of thrifting. Like this one .
I’ll warn you though, as you meander through the aisles you need your “crap filters” on. There is some serious junk out there. But then again, there is good junk and bad junk. The good junk is the stuff that makes you go “Ber?” Wondering, why would somebody have this in the first place? And, you really wish you knew the history of that item. Or there is good junk that you want to have because it is so weird/funny but you can’t justify owning it other than, “Hey, this is funny!”. That is why I bring my camera.
Let me show you some good junk.
Is that Athena’s temple? As a bird house? What bird could resist this gem? Shoot. This would actually look good next to our lion statue.
Or there is this:
This goes under “why would anyone have this in the first place?” category (oh, and are they really charging 19.99?)
Aah, the hook rug. Framed, even, like fine art. Those were the days. For two seconds I thought this would go extremely well with my living room….I liked the colors. Don’t worry, I had my “filter” on. However, kudos to whoever bought this.
And then there is the “literature”:
Oh, and this:
Just for the record this is the second book about, uh, Satanism we’ve found at Deseret Industries. This goes under the “I wonder about the history of this one” category.
El Jefe looks hip in these but it goes under the “no reason to buy this” category (and yes, I make up my categories as I go):
Ok, this last one is my favorite.
“The Avenging Unicorn” is currently stabbing a mime in this box. A MIME. It comes “with 4 magical horns and 3 figures to impale”. What the crap?!
(El Jefe wants you to know, if you are interested in owning your own Avenging Unicorn you can get it on Amazon.)
All these pictures make me laugh and I needed a laugh, thus my reason for sharing. Perhaps one day I should share my serious finds that would knock your socks off. Oh yes, knock. your. socks. Right off!
Post Edit: This one is for Amber and Ty. I did not have “my head on straight” according to El Jefe. This next item was not in a thrift store. No, it was in an elite Las Vegas neighborhood, “The Scotch Eighties”, which probably means nothing to you but just know that it is Old Time Vegas special. After leaving my friend’s house, I saw this sitting outside the trash. I thought El Jefe would enjoy a picture. However, upon presentation I found that not only did he enjoy it, but he wanted the item. Apparently, so did somebody else. Had it been there when we returned, this would have been one of your Christmas gifts.
Amber, be grateful. Ty, I know you are digging that ‘stache.
I just HAD to show my wicked bruise from tubing. Unfortunately, El Jefe’s battery died in the middle of our water sports. This is sad indeed because I cannot show you the punishment I endured behind my brother’s boat. We hooked up the hot dog and the inner tube. It was my sister Amy, my brother Guy, and me. Guy carries two helmets in his boat for events like this. He put one on, then gave Amy the other one. Excuse me?! First of all what are you planning on doing that would merit a helmet? Second of all, why don’t I get one?
(This is because I’m the youngest isn’t it?) (Jerks.)
In my family you don’t just ride the inner tube or hot dog. No, there must be some sort of challenge involved. Which is fine. I’m up for the challenge. It’s just that I’m getting up in years and my trips on the boat are more spread out. So we jumped from hot dog to inner tube and back and forth. If I wasn’t fast enough, Guy would pick me up by the life jacket and throw me where he wanted me to go. At one point, while alone on the inner tube I was charging back into the hot dog but taking some pretty wicked waves in the mean time. I smacked hard against the water but hung on for dear life, yes for “dear life”. Finally, somebody flew off (Was it I? I don’t remember) I sat on the hot dog and then looked at where my leg (just above my knee) smacked the water. It wasn’t just bruised, my veins were raised up on my skin. I showed Amy, the physical therapist. “Those look like varicose veins.” I’ve never had varicose veins. I told her what happened and this is what she described.
“Your wet suit is tight enough that your circulation is low. So when you hit the water the blood just pooled up in your veins right there.”
POOLED?! Sick. I don’ t like that description. Blood, pooling up in my veins. I couldn’t even touch it (yes my own leg).
I spent the rest of the ride (when we had breaks) pulling at my wetsuit so it wasn’t so tight and lifting my leg up so the pooling blood would move on. Move on pooling blood! Sick.
By the end of the day the veins had gone down and I just had a nice purple and blue bruise.
Here is a picture of it two days later:
I’ve been going through some of our old pictures and trying to organize them. It’s funny how, when you look at different stages of your life, old feelings and emotions seem to tickle the back of your brain and say “remember?”
I love this picture, but when I think my state of mind during that time period, I cringe. I don’t like to dwell on it too much because I have since come a long way. I know that on one hand I felt gratitude and relief because I was blessed with a fat and happy little boy. But on the other hand, I was still filled with doubt and fear that seemed to sweep upon me the first time I held this boy in my arms. Motherhood was a difficult transition for me because I just really wanted to do it right. But the responsibility was daunting and I didn’t quite “cowgirl up” at the beginning of this journey.
Each time I became a new mother, I grew a whole new heart. That first heart? I resented it a bit. Not the boy. No, I did not resent him. I resented all the new emotions and fears that came with him. I saw the world in a different light but I was focusing on what a scary place it can be. I didn’t remind myself of the protection I could be. Instead I felt weak and overwhelmed and scared.
I have sobered up since then. I now choose Strength over weakness, Love over fear, and Faith over doubt. It is also good to remember where we can turn to for strength when we feel weak as a mother or worried about our children. I love this quote by Abraham Lincoln: “I remember my mother’s prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life.”
So, this fat one volunteered to be my first guinea pig. He has taught me much. And I hope my prayers cling to him throughout his life.