Depression Disneyland

My house is a depression play ground. If depression was a person, my house would be Disneyland. We all live with varying degrees of depression and anxiety. The past 10 days, we have been quarantining due to 2 of the 3 of us testing positive for Covid 19.

Depression was SO happy.

This has been a breeding ground for mental illness slip n slide extravaganza. 

Our days and nights are mixed up.

Our bodies are sore.

Some of our basic senses are literally gone.

We have left the house 1 time in 10 days and that was to have our nosed swabbed, in the car, and then right back home.

Screen time all the time.

And now it's January 1 which is traditionally a day of "I'm going to fix myself and everything around me." I've thrown 1 load of laundry in, picked up the living room and now?

I AM EXHAUSTED.

I've literally been out of bed for 30 minutes and I'm done for the day.

Depression is not winning, but I'm certainly not the lioness Superwoman that is going to fix all the world's problems and heal the hearts and minds of all those residing in my home today either.

Ugh pray for me. 

I ❤️ Christmas!

I. Love. Christmas. 

I love the traditions. I love the decorations. I love the feelings of peace and giving. I love the story of Jesus' birth. I love the "good defeats evil" thread that is woven all throughout that story. 

But sometimes, Christmas doesn't love me.

Sometimes I let the Grinch sneak up and shrink my heart. I allow the master deceiver to take all the joy out of everything. Over the past few years I've done that WAY too often. This year I promised myself I wasn't going to do it. And guess what? With the exception of a couple of little blips, I did it! 

As I'm laying here on my couch with dogs cuddled up at my feet and my children gone to celebrate with their grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins,  I am filled with peace and joy.

The gifts were few (as they always are here) but the laughs and the "Oh! Thank you!"s were plenty.

So I pray that your holiday season was filled with peace and joy. And if it wasn't, I encourage you to dig deep and evaluate why. Was it simply allowing the ultimate Grinch to steal your spirit? Was it toxic people you need to set boundaries around? Was it unchecked mental illness that steals everything? I encourage you to reach out and ask for help. Whether that help looks like a friend, pastor, therapist, doctor, crisis hot line, please reach out. Because YOU matter. And Christmas and the gift that was sent is for YOU too. 

Merry Christmas friends! 

I might die, but I might just live

Exercise has NEVER been something I enjoyed. Dieting is not fun because, well, have you EATEN food?! But I'm not at a healthy weight. And extra weight is not good on your body. I can feel this in my back and legs. And I really need to be healthy not only for me, but for my kids who depend on me.

So when a couple of co-workers decided to join Farrell's Totalbody Fitness a couple months ago, I decided to do the program with them. Farrell's is kickboxing and strength training program. It is pretty intense and just reading about it is a little intimidating. It is 6 days a week for 45 minutes a day! But we anxiously counted down the days and as Orientation Day approached. I was terrified.

There were tons of people there and we did a few different tests. Sit and Reach, 1 minute situps, 1 minute pushups, Step Test and a 1 mile run. We also weighed in, checked our body fat and were measured. Not going to lie, it was not only tough, but eye opening at just how much I am out of shape. It was hard but the one thing I noticed off the bat was HOW NICE EVERYONE IS!

Everyone is so motivating and everyone has a story to tell. They have all been in my first timer shoes. They remember what deciding to make that change feels like and are so encouraging.

I have officially made it 1 week. I have woken up at 4am for 6 days in a row and have gone and worked it. To be honest, day 6 (today) was so hard mentally. I REALLY wanted to say "one day is ok to miss." But that is the old me talking and the new me, who is still forming, pushed through and went.

I am sore. I am tired. But I'm not complaining. This is just the beginning.

Change is a'coming folks, and the change will be me.

Little Ones

I took my almost 13 year old to the zoo the other day. We had a great time walking around looking at the animals (I really big heart the giraffes😍), taking selfies and just hanging out. As it turns out, we weren't the only people to decide to spend our sunny Saturday there. We walked by numerous families of all shapes and sizes, but one family made my heart say "Aww..."

There was a frazzled 20 something looking mom pushing a stroller with a toddler holding her hand and two preschool aged boys running ahead. She was scolding (yelling) at one of the boys for touching an automatic door opener that she had told him not to touch. Dad was there but he was not paying any attention to any of the kids or mom. She sounded so angry over this 4 year old opening the door and my heart broke. Not for the boy, but for the mom.

I WAS that mom. I spent my early and mid twenties with a preschooler and a double stroller full of girls. I was always frazzled and usually was in the need of a shower and a haircut. I was BARELY holding together my young family and with a husband who travelled 70% of the time for work, I feel like I failed miserably.

I often wonder if my kids have any memories of them as young children where I am NOT yelling at them. I yelled at home (My middle daughter HONESTLY thought her full name was RHIANNA JAYDE COMEHERE as a preschooler). I yelled at church (through clinched "Christlike" teeth). I even yelled at Disney World (I earned the nickname "Fun Sucker" on that trip...thank my ex husband for that encouragement). I couldn't let fun organically happen because I was too busy controlling and yelling about EVERYTHING.

My kids were 6, 7 and 10 when I became a single mom and got the wake up call I needed. I now had to share them. I went from my children being around me ALL THE TIME to not very much at all. There were nights when I sat in my very empty and very quiet house and just longed for some of the things that just months prior I had been yelling about.

My kids are pre-teen and teenagers now. I no longer yell...as often. I'm not going to lie and say I quit altogether but there is FAR more laughter and silliness and conversation and love in my home now. I don't care about the water bottle being left on the table. I'm just grateful for the child that left it there (but seriously...guys...clean up after yourselves!).

So as we walked past this yelling woman, I felt sorry that she is so obviously worn out and overextended that all she has left is yelling.  My prayer for her and all the other young and not so young, working outside the home and stay at home, married or single moms out there is this: I pray you are given sight to see that these days pass way too quickly and the things you are yelling at very, very soon will not matter at all.

Shut up Brain

I think. A lot. If I'm alone, I'm thinking. If you are talking to me, I'm thinking. If I'm awake, I'm thinking. Shoot, even if I'm asleep chances are I'm thinking.

So when friends mentioned a thing, that they thought was a thing, that isn't really a thing, I started.....you got it. Thinking.

A lot.

Like for reals...ridiculous amounts of thinking y'all.

Like maybe this thing, that isn't really a thing, that obviously looks like a thing, actually IS a thing? But this thing, that isn't a thing, if in fact it was a thing, could be a really bad thing. But what if it wasn't? What if this not a thing, that could be a thing, but I don't know if it is a thing, turns out to be a good thing? A great thing? THE thing? But it could just as easily be bad thing. The WORST thing.

Damn. I think too much.

You

I envy that little boy who was your first friend.  Oh the laughs and the secrets and the tumbles he must have shared with you.

I envy that pig tailed girl who was your first crush. You must have had no idea why you wanted to hold her hand instead of pushing her down.

I envy those adolescent boys whom you buddied around with doing only God knows what only God knows where.  Although they probably have whithered those friendships helped to build your character.

I'm so envious of the first girl who stole your heart. That beauty who not only held your heart, but who also broke it into a million pieces.

Most of all I'm envious of you because you get to spend all your time with one of my most favorite people in the world.

You.

Jason Derulo made me a feminist

I have never really had any feelings good or bad toward feminists or the feminist movement or the word feminist. It was not something I aligned myself with, but I wasn't ever against it either.  

Maybe because I have 2 daughters on the cusp of puberty or because I am a recently single working woman, but lately I have been embracing feminism and all that goes along with it more and more. And the thing that really has kicked me over the edge is.....

 Jason Derulo.

Let me give a little bit of background....

I love music.

Like LOOOOOVVVEEEE it.  

It is my favorite form of art. I listen to all kinds. All things rock; classic, alternative, grunge, heavy metal, 80's big hair bands. Country; Blue grass and bro country and the powerhouse women of the 80s and 90s and pop country and Johnny Cash. I even like mainstream pop, hip hop and some rap.  If the beat and music are good, I typically like it. What will turn me off to a song  in a heartbeat are the lyrics. For example I love the music to Sugarland's "Stay" but I can't listen to the song. Same goes for Hinder's "Lips of an Angel." I can not listen to or embrace songs that justify or glorify cheating. 

 I just can't do it.

So the first time I ever heard Jason Derulo's "Trumpets" I liked it. I liked the music and the beat and the "Trumpets they go do do do do do do do" part was catchy. I danced along to it and enjoyed it. Until the next time it came across my radio waves and I turned it up and started listening to it. Really? I have to admit, that I actually listened to it a handful of times before I was completely turned off to it. Here are just a sampling of the lyrics...

"Every time that you get undressed

I hear symphonies in my head

I wrote this song just looking at you oh, oh"

A woman's naked body inspired him to write a song....Ok...sure...I'm not certain if I am offended at this or not. Maybe he's just appreciating the beauty of his lady. I mean, she must be gorgeous to inspire symphonies in his head. Moving on....

"Is it weird that I hear

Angels every time that you moan?"

Um....yeah...I think that's weird. But I guess maybe, if you stretch a little, this could come off as sweet? I have to assume because the woman is already naked, that her moaning is coming from...well...you know... PLEASURE. And good for him for making certain that his girl is satisfied enough to moan....just think the angel sounds make it.....weird.


But here is the best....I mean absolute BEST part.....

"Is it weird that your ass

Remind me of a Kanye West song?" 

OH and don't forget

"Is it weird that your bra

Remind me of a Katy Perry song?"

Weird?! How about we mix it up with a different adjective. It's insane. It's not only fucking insane it's offensive!! Kanye West?! Who, in my opinion, happens to be a rude, cocky son of a bitch? And why in the hell would a bra remind you of a Katy Perry song? Are you trying to compliment my underwear? For what purpose? 

Really?!!

It's just that it's hard in our society to get girls to love themselves for themselves and to see that their worth is based upon more than just their looks. It is an uphill climb to make certain our daughters, nieces, and sisters know that it is it ok to be an engineer or a construction worker or a senator or a fireman. That they can have these careers and also choose to be a mom and wife. Or that they can choose to be a nurse or a teacher and also choose to be a mom and NOT a wife. Or be a coal miner or inventor or graphic designer and choose to NOT be a mom OR a wife.  

I just think that using a good beat and a catchy hook with lyrics as deep as these are poison to not only our daughters, but to our sons. Our sons who listen to this and are ingrained with the thought that women are nothing more than a pretty thing to look at and be pleasured by.....which, by the way feeds and exacerbates, rape culture which is an entirely DIFFERENT subject that I will save for another soapbox on another day.

So thank you Jason Derulo for making me a feminist.  But honestly, can I really expect much more out of a guy who also sings "You know what to do with that big fat butt?"

Sigh.....