Monday, November 28, 2011

What Makes Me Happy

Lately, well, since the accident
and my mind turned to toast,
or as Mr W says, "porridge",
I'd sorta lost myself inside myself.

I've been at home alot.
Resting.
Alot.
And on strict orders by my neurologist to
"act like [I'm] on vacation."

A vacay in my house
is not my idea of a great vacation.
But, and here's the best part
if I hurt my head again,
in my doc's words,
it could be
and I quote:
"catastrophic."

Okay then.
SO I'm home.

I haven't been doing things
I love[d] doing before the accident.
The things I kept saying that if I ever had time to do
I would do--
nope, not those.
I have tow books that I've been putting together
but did you know that being a good writer
requires, like, 110% brain power + creativity.
Which, when your brain resembles toast
so that thinking about writing and typing as well,
is not condusive
can't be done without a good amount of frustration.
It takes forever to go over and over again
with spellcheck.

So I am not writing much these days,
as you may have noticed.

Left alone with my thoughts,
I started wondering where my happiness will come from now
in these frustrating days.
There have been no brilliant ah-ha moments
that I even feel mildly compulsed to share in writing.

This has made me sad.
I mean, to the bone sad.

What else is there? I asked to the heavens.
What makes me happy? I wondered in my heart.

Then the answer came.
And, what's weird is that I actually got the message
even with a brain full of porridge.
"Living the gospel makes you happy."

The answer filled my entire self with
peace and light.

It does.
Take away all other distractions
and at the core of who I am
way back there behind my talents and other pursuits,
living the gospel makes me happy.

I came across a blank Young Women's Personal progress book
laying on the desk
and I opened it as though I'd never seen one
and the thought came to me,
"Do this. It will make you happy."

So I am.


Wednesday, November 23, 2011

'Twas The Night Before Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is about "family" and "food"
this we know...
similar to the baseball spirit voice in
"Field of Dreams"--
"If you serve it, 
they will come."


This Thanksgiving will be unusual for our little family--
it won't be just us around the dinner table!
Actually, we don't have a "little" family at all--
when we're all together
there's 12 of us, 
I think--
hold on while I count...
7 + 4 + 2
Oops! make that 13 of us
and that's just immediate family!


Add to that Mr. Idaho's family 
who're here too
from, ya know, Idaho--
and we've got a whole lotta more people
to dig in and enjoy the holiday with!
Bring it! I say!


My small confession however, is that I've done exactly 
zero shopping for this meal so far.
Zero, Zip, Nada, None.
Because I've been a lazy puke this week (and last)--
only going to doctor appointments,
meeting with a personal injury attorney,
having my brain scanned cat-style,
more x-rays than is probably healthy for me,
and then watching more TV than ever
because basically, 
my brain has been toast 
since the stupid accident.


But today is the day--
I've made my shopping list
and checked it twice
so with the assistance of the 3 youngest yahoos,
we shall attempt to get the grocery goods
and commence ta cookin'!


Since I'm not making the turkey (Mr. Idaho's Mom is)
my main menu will be
Deviled eggs (everybody loves 'em!),
dozen eggs
1/2 c. mayo
2 tsp. mustard
paprika
Boil the eggs. Peel eggs. Slice in halves. Mix mustard and mayo with the egg yolks. Spoon into egg white "holes". Sprinkle with paprika. *Tarragon is good too, but optional. (The secret to getting little kids to enjoy them is to keep the ingredients simple.)


Fresh cranberry sauce
Bag of cranberries
One cup of water
One cup of sugar
Boil the water and sugar together.
Add cranberries.
Boil for a few more minutes until cranberries have "popped" open.
Remove from heat.
Let cool to room temp. and then refrigerate.


Sausage and sage dressing
This is super easy!
Just use whatever kind of stuffing mix you want
and follow the directions on the package.
Then, add a pound of sausage/sage to it
and mushrooms if you like.*

Cranberry salsa

Cranberry Salsa
1 bag of fresh raw cranberries—washed
1 granny smith apple –cored and chunked
½ red pepper
½ red onion
¾ c sugar
1/3 c sugar
3 T cilantro
3 T fresh jalapeno pepper
1 T grated lime zest
1 T lime juice

Put all ingredients into food processor.  Chop just until chunky.  Enjoy with chips or topping for baked chicken/salmon, brie cheese or sandwich spread.



Candied yams


LG. Canned yams
3/4 c. brown sugar
1 TB. cinnamon
1/4c butter
Spread over yams.
Top with marshmallows.
Cover and bake 400o for 25 minutes. or until marshmallows have melted/browned.


* I also use the stuffing mix to make Stuffed Mushrooms--
Use the stems for the dressing (chopped well),
Then fill the fresh mushroom caps with the stuffing mix
Drizzle a little butter over top and sprinkle with paprika and a snip of fresh parsley.
Easy peasy and everyone likes it!

And that's all that I'm bringing to the table this year to eat.

One other thing, to decorate the tables very simply and requires just a vase and a sprig of pine in water!


Simply grab your scissors or sheers,
snip off a just a sprig of pine (doesn't matter what kind)
long enough to fill the clear glass vase and above it however much you want,
then fill with water.
Smells and looks great!


You can also fill the vase with cranberries before putting in the pine,
but either way looks festive!


One last thing:
My Gratitude is Full this year as it hasn't been in many years
and I must acknowledge The Blessings in my life--
since 2006 we have not had our own home-
this year, five years later, and after many prayers and blessings,
I am cooking in my own kitchen in my own house again.
I am more grateful than words can express.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!


Sunday, November 20, 2011

After-Effects


Since the car accident,
life has taken a curve--
I thought life was getting better
actually--
I really did.
The Chiropractor I've been seeing
told me to give the concussion
7-10 days.
I counted down those days
one by one
and was almost to the finish line
until the doc adjusted my neck
in such a way
that all symptoms returned.

SO I went to a neurologist,
and my Internist
who has prescribed a
Catscan tomorrow.
I can't recall all the amount of information
that these docs have given me--
Diana went with me to the appts so she knows,
but what I can remember is that
it's gonna be alot longer than 7-10 days.
Boo.
There's some kind of concern about a lesion on my brain.
Nice, hunh?
I wonder how the 17 year old texting kid who hit me
going 45 mph is feeling these days?

I haven't been up to going to work again
since the accident.
Heck, I haven't even made my bed
in recent days
because I've been in it.
The brain injury has made me feel different emotions--
as I told my doctor
I feel Super-Emotional just under the surface.
(I would actually wear a shirt that has a big SE on it,
just to warn people.)
I know understand how people's personalities change
significantly with a brain injury...
first off, I'm tired all the time.
And I'm Impatient...whining sets me off.
And I do not like having to ask or say something
more than once--
which isn't good when there's still kids and teens at home.
Noise aggravates me.
I'm cranky--a lot.
Light bothers my eyes...
so even "a day in the sunshine" is uncomfortable.
And I tears well-up without warning.
See? It's weird.

My thoughts and sentences come out like I'm speaking morse-code--
everything's all choppy and slow.
Thank goodness for spell-check.

There are things that I haven't blogged about
because my brain is not working:
My friends gave me a 50th birthday party.
Joseph turned 12 and rec'd the Aaronic Preisthood.
Diana's home.  Or did I already share that?
Yeah, she's home and
wishing she was back
on the West side of the Rockies
because of a boy whose already forgotten about her
because the ratio of girls to boys over there is something like
250:1.
That's been fun.
Not.
Dean was removed from the Host Home he's been in since last January
because the HHP was found guilty of neglect.
I just found all this out on Friday.
I was very emotional about that--
I hate that he had to move again because of stupid people.
I know it's disruptive to his life and he has no control over that.
The former HHP (host home Provider) called me all upset right after Dean
was removed from their house--
this is the same man who, when I asked if they could meet me half-way with Dean
so we could have more time with him here,
told me "It's not worth my time and money."--
this guy wanted me to force the agency to put Dean back into their home.
Can you believe that?
Seriously.
I got this call between Dr's appointments--
so all I could say is "I'll get back to you."
when what I wanted to say is,
"Why on earth would I force Dean back into your home?  Your wife admitted that she'd neglected him for 2 weeks to make a point to the agency so you guys would get more money?!!!  It's not worth my time and money, dude. You're lucky I don't press charges."


But I didn't say any of that.
I just hung up and cried thinking about Dean
going to a total stranger's house that day
with zero warning.

His case worker called a few hours later to tell me
the move went fine and Deano was "ecstatic" (her word)
with his new place.
The husband is a Deputy Sheriff (I think--some kind of cop),
and the wife is...shoot, can't remember what she does.
Anyway, Dean's fascination with policeman was stirred
and when I spoke to him yesterday,
he didn't sound "ecstatic" at all,
but disoriented and quiet.
I keep telling myself that he was probably distracted by something
while talking to me and when we see him over thanksgiving this week,
I'll know more.

All of this has forced me to look heavenward for answers.

Dean is known by his Shepherd.
This life is not a carnival ride for Dean--
he too, must have lessons and experiences he needs
for whatever reasons,
to gain what he can from this Life.
Heavenly Father has tailored specific lessons
just for Dean and will not leave him alone for even an instant
as he travels through this mortal existance.
Knowing this gives my mother-heart peace.

As for my brain crap,
well there's gotta be a reason for it.
Maybe it's to slow my "running-around-like-chicken-with-its-head-cut-off" self
down...
cu'z that's certainly happened.
Maybe it's to get my focus more focused
on the really important things in life--
I'm easily distracted (squirrel!).

I don't really know why or what the reason is
behind this mess,
but I do know that my patriarchal blessing says
I will be blessed with a keen mind and be able to recall important things.
I'm claiming that blessing as mine all mine.
I'm claiming it and clinging to it.
That's what's keeping me sane through this.

Today, Joseph is passing the sacrament for the first time
and he'll be sitting up on the stand with the Bishop.
He got a haircut and a new suit last night,
so he'll look all holy up there in front of God and everyone.
Shoot, I'm tearing up just thinking about it.

I've re-read this post through to make corrections,
but I'm sure I've missed as many as I've caught,
so your patience is appreciated.
Feel free to correct me in the comments,
I won't be offended...
heck, I probably won't remember
but there you have it.

Oh, yeah--one more thing:
If you are having a thanksgiving dinner this week,
will you take pictures of your sacred dinner table
with your family all around
and hold onto that photo for me?
I've got a small project going on
and will tell you more later!
(My one ounce of creativity is bursting through! yea!)









Wednesday, November 16, 2011

I'm a "Quinquagenarian"!


Fifty of anything is alot--
fifty pennies
fifty jellybeans
fifty states
fifty friends
fifty of anything, except maybe rice,
is alot of something.


Fifty years is half of a century.
Regarding a person who is fifty,
you could be a
quinquagenarian.

Yeah, I had to look that up.
And yeah, I'd never heard that word before--
so there's my word for the day.
"Quinquagenarian"--
sounds alot like
"equestrian" mixed with "quinoa", yeah?

It's better than alot of other things I could be called,
so I'll take it.

Fifty years.
If there was ever an appropriate time to reflect back on my life,
this has to be it,
because the way my memory is going,
if I wait too much longer,
the ol' memory rolodex might pull stuff outta nowhere
and I'll end up thinking I'm the Queen of England.

So here begins a random memory dump:

Television/Technology:
We had 3 channels when I was a kid--
and if the sun and wind were acting up,
my dad would wrap tinfoil around rabbit ears
and have me stand right next to the tv for better reception--
or just hold onto the antenna until the next commercial.
And the TV was not for children.
I know, right?
No, the television was for adults--
if we were "granted" permission to touch the channel-changer,
we had to go S L O W L Y
click
click
clicking
around the dial
until we got back around to Channel Two News.
Or Combat Zone.

When I was in 2nd grade,
my father won a color TV from his work.
TV in full-blown Technicolor!
My favorite shows were
"Lassie"
"I Dream of Jeannie"
and "Bewitched"...
I really wanted to be magic when I was a kid.
Heck, I still do.

When I was about 9,
Saturday Morning Cartoons
was a big deal in our house.
It was like three whole hours of nothing but cartoons
and we loved it:
The Road Runner Show, Bugs Bunny, Josie and The Pussycats, Archie,
Underdog, and HR PufNStuff!
We even liked the commercials--
Blow Pops, Tootsie Roll Pops, School House Rock--
we loved 'em.

What's kinda sad is that although we had just 3 channels,
there was better stuff on them
than on the 500+ channels we have today.
Noone cussed on TV.
Violence was censored--
there was an announcement on the evening news
when reports were going to be shared about the
Vietnam War--
to give viewers a chance to scoot children out of the room
before it was broadcast.
Parents were alot more sensitive to what they wanted their children
to be exposed to back then.
And TV stations listened to the people--
it was the general population that decided
what was shown on television,
not the other way around
like it seems to be these days.

Microwaves, hair blowers, cell phones,
remote controls, fast food, videos, dvds, cassettes, eight-tracks,
and central air and heat,
were all invented since I arrived on this planet.
I can do without most of them,
I know this,
but life is sweeter with them.

MUSIC:
My mother was a singer
and loved music--
so I was exposed to nearly every kind of music out there--
Jim Reeves, Ray Connif Singers, The Beatles and the Rolling Stones,
Patsy Cline, Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass, The Supremes,
Elvis Presley, Cream, Glen Campbell, Bobby Goldsboro, Three Dog Night
and even Lawrence Welk!
My mom cleaned house while the stereo was blasting thru the house
singing her lungs out with every record that
dropped on the turntable
and the little tiny needle lay gently
on the vinyl record.

That's how I learned to actually enjoy cleaning my bedroom
as a child;
how I still clean today
and how I've taught my children to get in the mood to clean--
turn on some music!
Music back then was written more clean than it is today,
but there are still some wonderfully talented singers around
and I have my favorites these days too--
Carrie Underwood, Charlotte Church, Michael Buble, Rascal Flatts--
just to name a few.
Oh can't forget James Taylor--he's timeless.
 I just got a new CD for my birthday last week--
Michael Buble's Christmas one.
I love Christmas music--
The Carpenters is always on the top of my list
but Mr W hates that one--
I put it on anyway.

CLOTHES
Trends I've seen go around more than once:
Bell Bottoms
Tie-dye
Hemp shirts/pants/necklaces
Peasant tops/dresses (remember Jessica McClintock prom dresses?)
Neon: shirts, socks, shoes
Pleats: pants, skirts, dresses
Straight-leg jeans
Hip-huggers
High-waisted pants
Boots--go in and out and in and out all the time.

It's true what they say that if you hold onto something long enough
it'll be back in style before you know it--
the only problem with that is your old size isn't your new size
so there's that.

Patriotism:

I love saying the Pledge of Allegiance.
Ever since I was a little girl in First Grade.
I wanted to learn every single word--
there was a big deal going on when I was in about the 3rd grade--
about the time when Madelyn O'hair, an outspoken atheist
put up a big fuss about having to saying the words
"under God" in the Pledge.
There was a boy in my class that was allowed to
sit and be silent during the morning pledge--
and as I recall back,
that made him so uncomfortable
and gave him a stigma no child should have to endure.
It isolated him from the rest of us--
even my teachers treated him differently because of that.
I felt sorry for him.
How could he not want to put his hand on his heart
while looking at the white stars on the American flag
and felt so much pride he might bust open?!
That's how I felt, anyway.

I remember President Nixon's "I AM NOT A CROOK" speech on primetime TV.
I was ashamed for him.
I once saw his motorcade in Key Biscayne Florida when I was about ten years old...
flags on the Presidential car and several secret service cars/ men all around too--
it was pulling up to a fancy restaurant.  I did not see Nixon though.

I've written to only one President of the United States and that was
President Ronald Reagan.
I wrote right after he was sworn in and told him how much I love America
and prayed for him to be wise for our country.
I got a very nice letter back and he signed it on White House paper.

I used to trust politicians more when I was younger than I do now--
which is both smart and sad.
It's hard to tell the good guys from the bad ones these days
and I don't know how a country as great as ours really is,
has gotten to the point it's at now.
There's none to blame but ourselves,
but that's a whole 'nother blog, isn't it?

I still, to this day, get emotional saying the Pledge of Allegiance.
The Fourth of July fireworks and the sentiments of the day are not lost on me.
I am proud of our countrymen and women,
and I feel safer here than anywhere else I have had the privilege of travelling
around the globe.
I've seen a few wars in these 50 years--
some were shorter than others,
all of them heart-wrenching.
On the first day of the Kuwait war,(also called Operation Desert Storm) in 1991,
I wrote the name of the first US airman shot out of the sky,
Michael S.
in the front of my journal.
I wanted to remember him always.

I've always thought that the leaders of nations who declare war
upon one another--
those leaders
should stand at the front lines with our young soldiers
on the very first day of fighting.
If that were the standard practice of war,
I feel that there would be alot less wars in the world.
Sending young men to fight old men's battles just isn't right or fair
In My Opinion.

Family

Family is all I have in this world that is worth anything.
To be a Good Mother is my one goal.
It has required more effort than any other goal or pursuit
I may have selfishly taken on
but has provided more growth and genuine happiness
than any other experience this life has offered me.
Being part of a family is God's plan for His Children--
I know this and am so entirely grateful for mine.

Faith:
I know for myself that faith is its own reward--
whether you have been born into a particular faith
or found one on your own--
it should bring you peace
inspire you to be a better person
and lift you when life smacks you down.
Faith only has the power that you allow it to have--
great or small.
Religion is a vehicle to express that faith.
No matter what faith you ascribe to,
be mindful of it,
live it,
and if you're going to discard it for something else,
leave in peace.
For every person who leaves a faith,
there is another who has just found it that day
with gratitude.

LOVE:

IN abundance.


That's one thing I can recall clearly,
that I have learned what it means to be
Good And Loved
on this earth.
That's the best thing of all about being a
"Quinquagenarian".

















Wednesday, November 9, 2011

What Triggers You to Speak Up?



Yesterday one of my bloggy peeps, Kazzy
was just living life,
minding her own business,
until she saw someone toss a BIG GULP 
out of their car window.
Then, she stepped out of her comfort zone,
chased that fellow down
and confronted him
about tossing trash in her town.
Kazzy said that she knew she would have to do that
as it is a "trigger" for her.


Well, all of this brave talk got my 
thinker thinking
about what my triggers are--
when do I step out of my comfort zone
and speak up?


And like a red flag,
there it waved in my noggin--
Child Abuse.


I have witnessed child abuse in public
and I speak up.
One time I was in a Kmart retail store,
and there was a woman in her 30's
yanking a barely two-year-old around 
by the hair
by the arm
by her clothing
while that child was in the cart--
yelling profanities at this baby
who was clueless about what the momma wanted
and tears just streaming down her cheeks.
I stood and took it in for a moment
to be sure of what I was seeing,
and when it was clear the woman was out of control,
I calmly walked over to her
and said,
"Can I help? It looks like you're having a hard time.
She is just a baby.  She doesn't understand what you want."


The woman snapped out of her world
and looked at me wide-eyed, 
as if she had no idea where I came from--
and she was rude...
among other colorful things,
told me to mind my own business
as she pushed the cart away.


I immediately went to the Customer Service counter
and calmly reported what I'd seen and pointed out the woman.
And then, 
I stood at the counter while the store's security personnel approached the woman
and as they passed by me with her in tow,
I looked her straight in the eye
because
Yes, it is my business.
And that baby needed someone to speak up for her.
You do need help whether you know it or not.
You may have gotten away with this behavior so far,
but not today, not in front of me.
I noticed. And I spoke up.


After we left the store,
( I had several of my own children with me),
I hugged my kids and I cried from the emotion of it all.


That's not the only time--
I've spoken to people in parking lots,
restaurants,
even at Church...
I think it happens because people lose perspective--
frustration and stress is high
or
maybe they don't know any better
because that's just how they were raised,
and
they think no one will notice,
and even if they do--
no one will speak up.


Why do I do it?
I've seen enough abuse in my life,
that I know how important it is to stand up 
and not turn a blind eye.
Because that's what enables people to keep doing what they're doing--
it's like giving them permission to keep at it.


Whether it's tossing trash out of a window on a city street,
or slapping a child in public.


It's not okay,
and the hope is that we can all 
make
"Injustice" a trigger

that pushes us to speak up.

What about you?

What's your trigger?







Tuesday, November 8, 2011

More To Say

Mr W and I just celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary.
Last week, when we realized the big day was approaching
neither of us could remember how many years it's been...
we both laughed and agreed that it felt more like dog years
as we've gone through so much together...
and instantly lamented that it took us much too long to find
one another.
That's when you know you've made the right choice--
when it feels like forever and yet
simultaneously feels too short.
I love my husband.

We aren't big celebrators of anniversaries--
we decided to go see a movie without the yahoos
because the Caboose demanded us to--
"GO! BE TOGETHER!"
So, we decided to go see "Moneyball"--
I am not a fan of Brad Pitt,
but I love a good baseball movie
so we chose that one.

Mr W opened my car door for me--
which he doesn't normally,
nor do I expect him to when we're just
being "parents"
runnin' around n' such.
But since it was a date,
his chivalry made me giddy.
We held hands in the movie theater
and that's all I need.

The movie was so good.
I am anxious for it to be released on DVD.
There's one part in the movie
that really stuck with me--
it's about hitting homeruns when you don't know it--
we always sell ourselves short.
We need to be better about acknowledging our strengths
and celebrating them along the way.

***

My Nana is coming home this week
after being in Provo since late last March.
It's time.
She needs a place to recuperate and regroup--
home is a good place to do that.


***

I have a series planned on Strengthening Children
that will be ready to run next week.
What with Dean and the Accident,
it set me back a bit,
but it'll be ready next week
and I'm really looking forward to my BIL's experience.

***

My dad called me the other day--
his dementia is worse
but he said something I hope I always remember:
"I love you, girl. You're my firstborn. My heart fell in love with you."

***







How My Stress is Related to Texting Teen Drivers

Hello there.
It's been a little while since I've been
right
here
on this blank space.

Life has been coming at me
at a pretty fast clip
and I'm just trying to keep up.

If I looked like I feel,
I imagine I might look alot like
a crumpled-up wad of paper--
one big ball of hurt.

Last time I was here,
I shared my feelings about
Trunk R Treat-ing
and bribing non-receptive children.

Alot has happened since that day.

That Friday I ran up to Fort Collins to attend a meeting for Dean
and also to fetch him home for the weekend.
It had been a while since he'd visited us--
complications on the end of his host home providers
that I really didn't understand
until now.
Complications I can't talk about yet.
But it's not good.
N' I'm working on making it better.

Dean had a sweet time with us--
I took him to our old ward's
TRUNK R" TREAT--
where he was good and loved
and he dressed as a six-foot-two-inch Pooh Bear.
Awesome.

He loves dressing up and pretending--
he has his own Santa costume,
and Phantom of the Opera costume,
and a Doctor costume (or "surgeon" as he calls himself)...
his idea of a really good time is dressing up--
another thing that makes him unique n' I love him for it.

The weekend flew by
and as much as I didn't want to take him back
I knew I had to...
it doesn't made sense in my head--
that right there.
That I had to take him back.
I'm his mother afterall is said and done.
I should have the first dibs on him.
I pay attention to everything he says
and everything he doesn't say.
There's alot to notice these days.
N' like I said--
I'm working on it.

Also,
in the Message-to-Teens
Life Category:
Do not Text and Drive.
Otherwise,
you may not notice that the Huge Green Suburban
that's driving in front of you--
that's Me up there with my left turning signal on
and I'm slowing down to a STOP
to allow an oncoming truck to pass
before turning--
but you can't see that truck because
you're looking down at your phone.
Yeah, you may not notice that my Suburban has
STOPPED and is WAITING
even though you've assumed I've already made the turn
when I am still stopped right in front of you
so that
the next time you look up
an air bag will be in your face
and the front of your car looks like an accordian.
And I might be
so relieved that you're alive
I will want to put my mother arms around you
even though I am not your mother--
and then I'll lecture you on the side of the snowy road
about paying attention while driving
n' how blessed you are to have walked away from your
ruined little white Mazda.
despite your very stupid, foolish idea that you can type a sentence
on a tiny little keyboard thingy with one hand
and one brain
while driving with the other hand
and no brain!

What you don't know is within two hours of that accidental meeting,
I was in a doctor's office with a pounding headache,
painful whiplash
and a concussion that made me so disoriented
my husband had to pick me up from the doctor's office
because I couldn't drive myself home.
And because of you, you little texting fool,
I had to cancel 6 appointments for potential HHP's for my special needs son
the next day
because I am one big ball of hurt.

Yeah, don't TEXT AND DRIVE, fool.
Pay Attention to What You're Doing.