It is popular in November to be thankful each day for something that makes your life awesome. It is also popular to share these wonderful things via some form of electronic media. Please hear me when I say that I am, indeed, thankful, and I am also pleased that you are. It does get a little cloying though by the end of the month. Like apple juice. F'ing apple juice. It is so sweet, I want to love it, but I just can't in my deep down heart. (it doesn't even really taste like apples does it?)
Anyway, because I am a big fan of being ironic, and also because I am actually very blessed, I decided to hitch my ass to the wagon. (You KNOW I don't jump. 40 pounds of boobs are not conducive to flying into the air of my own accord)
I saw a post about being grateful in December (every day, which of course is very different than being thankful every damn day in November. Come on people.) The point (in case you are thick) is to focus on the good, and not the stress and ridiculousness of the commercialization of the holidays. (ok, maybe that is just what I think it means, feel free to think for yourself here. Please. Really)
So, in the spirit of gratefulness, I am going to share some things that I am thankful for. (Probably not daily, because let's just be honest here, commitment to any daily task isn't really my gig. If this was a project that involved large amounts of butter or napping it would have a fighting chance.)
The first thing I am thankful for is kind of amazing, but I promise you it is true. (I only tell the truth, it's just my way) So, if you know me, you know that the Janina fan club includes 1 member of Alan's family. It is Alan. I somehow brainwashed him in the early 90s without the use of any (good) forms of sex, drugs or rock and roll (still all true) and yet, 20 years later, he is still here. Amazing, I know. For some reason (or most likely loads of them) the rest of his family hasn't fallen for me yet. This has been a huge stumbling block for me for most of my life. I just can't quite accept that the family of man that I love more than my life, just can't like me. Ouch.
And then I got a facebook friend request. It was from Alan's Uncle Earl. Why me? Really? Fine, whatever. Friends indeed. Except, (and here's the lesson kids) he isn't anything like I expected him to be. Shame on me! Uncle Earl is a gay democrat, and from what I gather, he is also a retired ice dancer!!! Shut the front door! (I KNOW! a DEMOCRAT in Alan's family! wow. Mind=blown)
Anyway, the thing I am grateful for today is discovering a kinship with a member of my family in-law. Better late than never I say. Now that Uncle Earl and I are going to be buds, I am kind of figuring out why they have kept us a secret from each other all of these years. It has a little to do with possible world domination, but you didn't hear it from me...
Showing posts with label life is good. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life is good. Show all posts
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
bread and jam for me
I love home made raspberry jam. It might be me very favorite thing of all. I love the beautiful and amazing color of it, I love the sweet, tangy taste of it, I love the way it gently mounds on the spoon when I scoop it for my toast, I love the jars lined up like little soldiers, wearing ruby jackts on my counter.
I think Frances said it best:
"Jam on biscuits, jam on toast, jam is the thing I love the most.
Jam is sticky, jam is sweet, jam is tasty, jam's a treat.
Raspberry, strawberry, gooseberry,
I'm very fond of JAM!"
Yesterday the sun poked out for a moment, and we went to the farm down the road. We picked over 12 pounds of raspberries, and this morning I made jam. It's hard to be unhappy when you have raspberry jam. and Frances.
I think Frances said it best:
"Jam on biscuits, jam on toast, jam is the thing I love the most.
Jam is sticky, jam is sweet, jam is tasty, jam's a treat.
Raspberry, strawberry, gooseberry,
I'm very fond of JAM!"
Yesterday the sun poked out for a moment, and we went to the farm down the road. We picked over 12 pounds of raspberries, and this morning I made jam. It's hard to be unhappy when you have raspberry jam. and Frances.
tiny hands.
they are getting so big.
summer time in a jar
perfect.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
perspective
It's funny sometimes, how our feelings seem so out of our control. Yesterday I had a blue day, for no reason at all (except the phase of the moon, hormones, holidays, you know, no reason). The sun was shining and it was a crisp winter day, the sky was blue and the kids were even trying to behave. Yet there I was, crying into my shirt about how sad I was. I was very sad.
It is easy to get sucked into the "poor me" mentality. I have to change Layla's pump site and it will hurt her, and it will hurt my heart. I have to have workers here all week to fix a problem that came about all on it's own, with no rhyme or reason,(underground wiring, rain, rocks) and it costs money. I want to eat chocolate, or carbs, or anything but celery, but I know that it wouldn't help me reach my goal of getting to where I want to be. I want my hair to look pretty, and it doesn't, it sticks out, and my face is round, and too pink. The shoes that I ordered don't fit. My chocolate didn't come in the mail...Silly things. Things that don't matter.
Guess what? Last night there was a storm, there was wild wind, and pouring rain, and today the sun was out again. The roads were all messy, trees had lost branches, and the creek by our house was swollen up, full to the very edges of it's banks. I went for a run outside. It is beautiful here. Right here, where I get to live, it is paradise. Sure it is wet, and soggy and covered with moss, but I have a warm dry house, and fuzzy pants. (and today, I have back up at home with me, so the teams are even).
Sometimes it takes a storm to shake things up a bit, make it nice and messy, so it can become clear how lucky we are. In it's chaos, and the destruction that it leaves behind, it reveals the things that are comfortable that we take for granted, every day. Today, in the fresh air, I realised that yes, Layla having diabetes does suck. Bad. It sucks worse than anything else. But also, we are lucky enough that we have money to buy her insulin, and pump supplies. Not everyone is that lucky. Today, I thought about how lame it is to have to pay a bunch of money at Christmas time, to electricians, to fix something that just broke (even though it shouldn't have),but, we are lucky that it will get fixed. (and in time for my parents to get to come stay with us for Christmas). MY PARENTS ARE COMING FOR CHRISTMAS! I ate one delicious (small) muffin, and I remembered that I am looking better every day because of the changes I have been making, and every decision counts. I looked in the mirror and laughed, remembering that it is just hair, and I am lucky to have any at all. (also that pink is a great color to be, it is bright, and healthy and alive.)
It's all about perspective, the way you look at something can change the way it is, to you at least, and let's face it, that's what counts. Today was a good day, I made it that way. I am in total control of my own happiness. (well..today I am, that chocolate better come soon!)
It is easy to get sucked into the "poor me" mentality. I have to change Layla's pump site and it will hurt her, and it will hurt my heart. I have to have workers here all week to fix a problem that came about all on it's own, with no rhyme or reason,(underground wiring, rain, rocks) and it costs money. I want to eat chocolate, or carbs, or anything but celery, but I know that it wouldn't help me reach my goal of getting to where I want to be. I want my hair to look pretty, and it doesn't, it sticks out, and my face is round, and too pink. The shoes that I ordered don't fit. My chocolate didn't come in the mail...Silly things. Things that don't matter.
Guess what? Last night there was a storm, there was wild wind, and pouring rain, and today the sun was out again. The roads were all messy, trees had lost branches, and the creek by our house was swollen up, full to the very edges of it's banks. I went for a run outside. It is beautiful here. Right here, where I get to live, it is paradise. Sure it is wet, and soggy and covered with moss, but I have a warm dry house, and fuzzy pants. (and today, I have back up at home with me, so the teams are even).
Sometimes it takes a storm to shake things up a bit, make it nice and messy, so it can become clear how lucky we are. In it's chaos, and the destruction that it leaves behind, it reveals the things that are comfortable that we take for granted, every day. Today, in the fresh air, I realised that yes, Layla having diabetes does suck. Bad. It sucks worse than anything else. But also, we are lucky enough that we have money to buy her insulin, and pump supplies. Not everyone is that lucky. Today, I thought about how lame it is to have to pay a bunch of money at Christmas time, to electricians, to fix something that just broke (even though it shouldn't have),but, we are lucky that it will get fixed. (and in time for my parents to get to come stay with us for Christmas). MY PARENTS ARE COMING FOR CHRISTMAS! I ate one delicious (small) muffin, and I remembered that I am looking better every day because of the changes I have been making, and every decision counts. I looked in the mirror and laughed, remembering that it is just hair, and I am lucky to have any at all. (also that pink is a great color to be, it is bright, and healthy and alive.)
It's all about perspective, the way you look at something can change the way it is, to you at least, and let's face it, that's what counts. Today was a good day, I made it that way. I am in total control of my own happiness. (well..today I am, that chocolate better come soon!)
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
aha!
I was just in the shower, soaping up all of my glaringly white, jiggly bits, and thought, "now that is a great body." True story. I will let you know, that in my life until this moment, I have had this thought less than a handful of times. As you know, I am not a super model, (or even a hand model for that matter), and as most women do, judge myself rather harshly. Sure, I don't like wearing a bathing suit, and tight pants make my tummy squish out at the top (not attractive, just believe me on this), but there are things that I do like, and I forget to focus on those things. I have great ankles. My elbows are also very nice.
I have heard it said many times that you can't change someone. I believed it too, people are who they are. With my new found self appreciation though, I would like to tell you that that statement is indeed wrong. People are constantly changing, and if you are a major influence in their life, you will inevitably change them.
I used to be a girl (and now a woman) who had a decent amount of self respect and self esteem, but always in the back of my mind, a little itchy spot of self loathing, that would ooze out and infect my brain sometimes with negativity and self doubt. I believe this is normal, to a point. (I am still working on my *phd, so it's hard to say if I am actually right, or just agree with myself)
I sometimes wonder, if I am a happy girl, with a good life, why do I think I need to look differently to be truly happy? Alan tells me that he loves me exactly like I am. (he says this often, apparently I need convincing) Is it possible for him to really love me even though I don't look like societies ideal of the perfect woman? Could it be that maybe his idea of the perfect woman is me? With my freckles poking out, and my hair frizzing up, an entire wardrobe of clothes that have elastic waists instead of zippers and buttons? The answer is no. (or so I had convinced myself) But then I stepped back. Who am I to say what is beautiful?
Dandelions are my favorite flower. In high school I loved orchids, they were tropical and rare. When I was a young adult, I loved hydrangeas, they grew in the yard of my first house. Now that I have beautiful girls who pick me dandelion bouquets by the handful, they are my very favorite flower, hands down. I can't see a dandelion without smiling, they make my heart happy. Their bright vibrant color, the amazing way that they change from a tiny green bud, to a fuzzy yellow flower, to a white feathery seed puff, to me, are a perfect example of beauty. I would take a fistful of dandelions any day over an expensive bouquet of anything.
Then I got it. I am a dandelion! I am Alan's dandelion. Some people see weeds and break out the round-up, (Alan used to), but now we pick them, and blow the puffs all over the yard, and make wishes like crazy. And smile. Maybe my job isn't to the be prettiest, or the skinniest, or the best. Maybe my job is to help people smile. It is a very respectable job I think.
One thing I really enjoy about getting older is that somehow things seem to sort themselves out. Life gets a certain clarity all on it's own. You are certain what is important and what isn't. There isn't room for fronting or drama, there is only room for things that truly matter. It is such a relief to live each day for what it is, nothing more, just to enjoy the experience of it.
I realise that my body has literally supported me every single day that I have been alive. One of the reasons my belly pokes out is that I have made a family (ahem, and appreciate beer). I have earned these little body modifications through hard work, and also all of the amazing experiences that I have been through.
Today, I noticed that I have a smokin' set of ankles, and then I got dressed (in tie top pants) and joined some good friends for 7 layer chocolate birthday cake. I smiled the entire time.
*imaginary
I have heard it said many times that you can't change someone. I believed it too, people are who they are. With my new found self appreciation though, I would like to tell you that that statement is indeed wrong. People are constantly changing, and if you are a major influence in their life, you will inevitably change them.
I used to be a girl (and now a woman) who had a decent amount of self respect and self esteem, but always in the back of my mind, a little itchy spot of self loathing, that would ooze out and infect my brain sometimes with negativity and self doubt. I believe this is normal, to a point. (I am still working on my *phd, so it's hard to say if I am actually right, or just agree with myself)
I sometimes wonder, if I am a happy girl, with a good life, why do I think I need to look differently to be truly happy? Alan tells me that he loves me exactly like I am. (he says this often, apparently I need convincing) Is it possible for him to really love me even though I don't look like societies ideal of the perfect woman? Could it be that maybe his idea of the perfect woman is me? With my freckles poking out, and my hair frizzing up, an entire wardrobe of clothes that have elastic waists instead of zippers and buttons? The answer is no. (or so I had convinced myself) But then I stepped back. Who am I to say what is beautiful?
Dandelions are my favorite flower. In high school I loved orchids, they were tropical and rare. When I was a young adult, I loved hydrangeas, they grew in the yard of my first house. Now that I have beautiful girls who pick me dandelion bouquets by the handful, they are my very favorite flower, hands down. I can't see a dandelion without smiling, they make my heart happy. Their bright vibrant color, the amazing way that they change from a tiny green bud, to a fuzzy yellow flower, to a white feathery seed puff, to me, are a perfect example of beauty. I would take a fistful of dandelions any day over an expensive bouquet of anything.
Then I got it. I am a dandelion! I am Alan's dandelion. Some people see weeds and break out the round-up, (Alan used to), but now we pick them, and blow the puffs all over the yard, and make wishes like crazy. And smile. Maybe my job isn't to the be prettiest, or the skinniest, or the best. Maybe my job is to help people smile. It is a very respectable job I think.
One thing I really enjoy about getting older is that somehow things seem to sort themselves out. Life gets a certain clarity all on it's own. You are certain what is important and what isn't. There isn't room for fronting or drama, there is only room for things that truly matter. It is such a relief to live each day for what it is, nothing more, just to enjoy the experience of it.
I realise that my body has literally supported me every single day that I have been alive. One of the reasons my belly pokes out is that I have made a family (ahem, and appreciate beer). I have earned these little body modifications through hard work, and also all of the amazing experiences that I have been through.
Today, I noticed that I have a smokin' set of ankles, and then I got dressed (in tie top pants) and joined some good friends for 7 layer chocolate birthday cake. I smiled the entire time.
*imaginary
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