WTF - What a BEAUTIFUL Idea

So a friend send me this wonderful idea I thought I would share with you, and how my wicked twisted sense of humor took it.

It's called an Inspiration Jar - cue the whimsical music right here - where you fill a jar with beautiful writing prompts and each day (really? each day, are you kidding me? I'm lucky if I get a shower each day) you take out a prompt for meditation and journal writing.

OK, this does sound like fun, I have no problem creating the beautiful jar, then came the part of beautiful prompts.  Where does my mind go? You guessed it, right in the gutter, here's a few of my questions:

Why doesn't glue stick to the bottle?

Why does my crap stink sometimes and other times it does, but my husbands stinks ALL THE TIME?

Why can't I tickle myself, and why do I want to?

What good does it do putting the empty box of Orange Juice back in the refrigerator?

Why does Google become a sick pervert when you use the letter U for a question rather than individual?  Seriously, try it!

Why is it when I get lost in any city, I always find the druggie neighborhood? Even with GPS?

What sicko created those 100 calorie packs of Oreos. A, they are not Oreos, and B, two cookies is not an acceptable number.

Why would a person every say they are a pathological liar? Aren't they lying?

Why can't I find anything anymore, I've moved into the "constant looking" phase of my life?

Do they ever have mattresses NOT on sale?

Why hasn't a psychic ever won the lottery?  Just saying.

Someone is messing with the sizing on clothes recently, haven't they?

They make bullet proof clothing, but I've never seen bullet proof pants?

The same doctor that delivered both of my children, leaves the room for me to undress into a gown that exposes everything anyway, why?

How do you know when sour cream is bad?

And finally, the one that really gets me.

My Grape Nuts has NO nuts, not a single one in it.

So go out there and create your beautiful writing prompt jar, or do what I do, clean out a Ketchup bottle and put it in there, because I never need a prompt, I look at the bottle thinking, "What is the different between Ketchup and FANCY Ketchup? It does get the creative juices flowing!

Snow Day

Snow falling all day long.  A wicked wind reminding of me every horror movie I watched as a kid.  That type of wind howling around the house, making you stop, looking at the windows periodically for Jack Frost standing there waiting for an invitation to come in.

This is what makes winter feel so special to my heart.  Days like today when you can take the excuse, opt out and it is OK.  Why do we always need an excuse to step back and spend time with the people we love?  I am guilty of the same thing, which is why today - I'm grabbing that hooky paper and using it, gladly.

Walking out in the swirling snow, feeling the wind as it pushes you up that hill is another special part of a snowy day.  Feeling the forces of nature, reminding you that you are small.  You are like that small spec, that individual snowflake, make your part of the universe special, don't let it pass you by.  Breathing in cold air, walking with a purpose, find something to be grateful about in this day.

Everything is covered in white, looking fresh and new, unbroken, peaceful.  Then that wind reminds you that nothing stays the same, as you watch the snow create a new piece of artwork as the wind pushes it in different directions.  Peace and change.  Two things that go hand in hand.

I'm going to sit with my glass of wine and a fire.  I'm going to listen to that wind, trying to interpret what it wants to tell me.  I'm going to accept the peace and change, as I opt out, tag out, play that hooky card.

Maybe just listen to the wind.

Did Mom Just Say That?

Things that you will never hear a mother say:

“Wow, this is the first time in a year that you cleaned out under your bed?  That's where all those clothes went!  I can’t wait to do these 16 loads of laundry.”

“That’s fantastic that your field trip is today and you need an orange shirt.  Hold on I’ve got an orange sharpie and a white T-shirt, give me about an hour.”

“What?  I didn’t say clean the WHOLE deck?  Oh, that’s OK, I’ll go back out there and clean the stairs for you.”

“Oh, that’s not what you wanted for dinner.  Let me run this next door to the neighbors so I can start on something you really want to eat.

"You know what?  I hate doing laundry, and you're right, you do not have enough clothes.  Here's my credit card."

"Here, I'll give you whatever you want, please stop crying."

“Oh you don’t like the 85 dollar shoes now?  That’s OK, I look really good in neon Michael Jordan high top basketball shoes.”

"No, no, you go ahead and buy those coins on your game.  I don't need to buy groceries this week."

"How many times do I have to tell you to keep that door open.  I am trying to air condition the neighborhood."

"Oh honey, if everyone else is doing it, then absolutely, you MUST do it too!

“I love the exercise I get when you let the dog out and she takes off down the street.  I feel my legs getting stronger.”

“Oh good, that laundry smells like feet.  I’m glad I got my sense of smell back.”

"Honey, can you come and dig that Lego out of the bottom of my foot.  I think it took part of my callous off."

"You know, that red Icee you spilled on my carpet has given them a lot of character!"

“It is so nice to have the monthly alarm of the smell of pee reminding me to clean the toilet in the boys bathroom.”

“What?  Oh honey, I wasn’t sleeping, I just had my eyes closed.”

and finally,

"Yes, you're right.  I didn't realize it.  I am made of money!"

WWMD - What Would Mom Do?

Here is my challenge to other bloggers, in honor of Mother's Day, I challenge you to write a piece about what you mother has taught you and then pass the torch on to all of your blogging and non blogging friends.

My mother passed away a few years ago from brain cancer.  I wish I'd taken the time to sit with her and ask her questions about life, about who I am, and about my family.  There are so many moments in my life where I question my sanity and wish I could just pick up the phone and make that phone call, hearing, "Don't worry.  It's not you.  Boy when you were little you did the same thing."  But instead I focus on those things that I feel she ingrained in me, made sure since she wasn't here a long period of time that I focus on the important things.

There is nothing you cannot do.  Sure Mom was always pushing us, but it was because she wanted more for us, she us to move beyond the street we grew up on, she wanted us to live.  She showed us that she could do the same thing is walking into a new job, a new life and persevering because to her, failure was not an option.  Try bringing home a bad grade in math in elementary school, she taught us early that she expected more from us and wasn't taking no for an answer.  Later in her chemotherapy time she still didn't give up, she decided that sure things may look like shit at the moment, but just being here was worth it.

I'll never forget watching her on that hospital bed playing Uno with my oldest son, listening to him complain that he was losing to her every time because they were "princess cards."  He didn't notice that her head was shaved, that there were tubes coming out of her, he noticed the princess cards because she didn't draw that attention, she simply went on with life.

I love that in her diagnosis we had the gift of time.  We were able to tell her how we felt in those months, talk about different feelings, and most of all hug her.  We didn't mind pushing her around on the red rocker (combination walker wheel chair) we just knew that every moment, every memory we created were special because unlike others out there, Mom had an expiration date.  There was a journey waiting for her that few even knew existed until they were stepping off that ledge.

Have some fun.  Sure, our dogs never sat or heeled or pooped in our yard.  We had hamsters that ran along the top of the kitchen cabinets.  We had birds that flew around the house landing on the dinner table picking the seeds out of the tomatoes.  Our house was never spotless, there was always time to play mermaid on the blue carpet in the basement rather than scrubbing toilets.  Later I remember her running after Wolfgang who was 3 at the time with a Ninja Turtle mask while I tried to get used to another newborn.  She always had time to have fun with her grandkids, a trait I hope to pass on.  We played hard then we cleaned up - it was simple.  Dishes after Thanksgiving, wrapping paper after a birthday, dog poop after a new puppy.  I love how I told her after a few beers to look "casual" going into the hotel to use the bathroom.  Well, she tripped into the hotel lobby, and tripped going back out to the street - both of us laughing.

Don't give up.  Many can decide to live in the life they have.  My mother decided that there was something out there for her and she went for it.  She wasn't looking for romance, she was looking for a partner and she found one.  Someone who sat with her every night drinking a beer talking about their day, someone who enjoyed making homemade soup as much as she did, someone who pushed her in the wheelchair during those years, gently touching her bald head before lightly kissing it.  Someone who took care of her and loved her until the end, loved her so much that he passed of a broken heart 6 weeks later.  Most are not that lucky.

When it is time, it is time.  My mother fought the good battle against a disease that slowly takes the pieces of the person you love and steals them away.  We took her advice when we had to make the hard decisions in her treatment, when we had to bond together and say goodbye.  We knew that she lived life to the fullest and the present condition was not acceptable, we knew that from years of listening to her tell us what she wanted us to do, she was silently telling us it was time.  There was a new adventure awaiting,  time to let her go.  The nurse told us, "She had a strong heart," when she died, we all knew that was true.

I know that we did the right thing, because when I want to call her and ask those questions, I feel a sense of peace.  Leave the dead be, they are in their own place, your job is to live now, is what she always told me.

Oh, and the secret to a clean house?

Lower the shades, they'll never see the dust.

Words for the Week - Give Yourself A Hug

Give Yourself A Hug

Four simple words with a big impact on your week.  You know what?  It's OK to be you, in fact there is no one else out there exactly like you - you are unique.

"Be yourself, everyone else is taken." - Abraham Lincoln

Accept everything that is you.  Laugh at some of the things you do.  Make a mistake, tuck it away and simply move on.

We try too hard to be perfect.  You know what, so do I.  But if I waited for anything to be perfect, I'd have nothing to show, because nothing is perfect.  So give yourself a hug and be who YOU want to be, not what others are expecting.

Think about it.

Hugging is fat free, organic and sweet with out the sugar.

Hugs are inflation proof and require no advance payment or installments.

A hug for 20 seconds releases oxytocin, a hormone that makes a person trust you more.

Hug reduce stress, in a study, couple who watched a movie holding hands and hugged at the end had much lower stress levels than those who didn't.

So for the next week, give yourself a hug because you are amazing.  Give others a hug because that part of you is special to them.  

Have you hugged yourself lately?

Why Don't you LIKE me?

Sometimes it is easy to get caught up in stats.

How many people liked what I wrote.  Did anyone share it?

Why don't they like this, it's pretty hilarious to me.

I can get many positive comments, why am I holding onto the negative ones?

Then I read a quote this morning that makes a lot of sense, "Write like an orphan."

Write what I need to say, and don't agonize over the notifications.

Don't get bogged down by stats that look like you are falling off a cliff on the number of hits.

Create what I need to create, say what I need to say.

Don't read the reviews, don't analyze the comments.

Put it out there.

Move On.

There's better things to do.

Race Day Report = Game Face

First race in a series called Race The Bar, different bars around Greensboro and Winston, increasing distances with each race - but time with friends and free beer at the end! So I came with friends, everyone looking at each other saying, "Oh yeah, I'm here for the free beer at the end, nothing big."

Didn't help the sun decided to come out right as the race started and with 100% humidity and 80 degrees yours truly was VERY happy (NOT) but I stood at the starting line looking around thinking, "Hmmm, I came to have fun, who am I kidding, I came to kick some asphalt and now I'm rethinking my plan because there are a lot of really fit looking people here!"  Did it help I ate a pound of twizzlers pre race as a sugar fix - same said candy now sitting like a rock in my stomach.  Walking to the starting line, there's a guy IN NEON, standing behind a tree peeing - really?

I quietly draw my group of friends to the front of the pack, where all the speedy people start and get out my headphones.  Some are saying, "If it's hills, I'm not doing well, others - it's so hot right now."  I'm thinking, "The sooner I get this over the better, let's just get the show on the road."

Making the same mistake I make in every 5K, as the gun goes off I start out WAY too quick, the twizzlers now tapping at the back of my throat.  I pay for that fast start with a very difficult mile 2, the sun beating on my head, heat radiating from the asphalt under my feet.  By mile 2.5 I'm thinking, "I really could walk this, my mind kicks in and says, "If you're not giving it your all, then you don't need to be here." I throw water in my face and on my head at the water stop and feel better.   I am very excited about the downhill and as I finally hit my stride, it's OVER!"

I was over 25 minutes, and once the nausea was gone, ready for the free beer.  I hang with friends laughing about my 67th place finish until I hear my name called as 1st place Masters Female!  We are all surprised as everyone in the group places in age groups and we're all holding victory pints!  Later when checking the results, I see I won by 32 seconds - had I stopped AT ALL I'd be in second place.  My friends say they thought about running but all of us in a line seeing each other continuing to run kept the momentum!  Next race is in May.

So sure the race sucked, it was hot, it was humid but we are all winners!  Staying the course and putting everything in to it is what makes racing FUN and EXCITING!  Do you give it your all?  Oh and neon guy, I think I beat him too!

On the edge, and holding tight!

One of my favorite quotes is, "Life isn't about pulling slowly at the grave without a ding or dent on the body, it's about coming in with a screeching halt, full of dings and dents, on one wheel screaming, 'Man, what a ride!"

This quote tells me not to hold back because, holding back means regrets and I don't subscribe to these.  This also gets me in trouble when I choose a path because it intrigues me and halfway down I wonder, "What the hell was I thinking" but keep going.  I stood on a beach wondering, "they want me to run into the surf and do what" at the beginning of a race, when at the end it wasn't pretty but as I crossed the finish line I thought, "hell if I survived that, I can do anything."

This quote always put me over at the edge, which reminds me of another quote - stay over at the edge, every where else you're simply taking up too much room.  The edge has me writing that story, or that piece and tucking a small piece of my heart in it, giving it a kiss then letting the world to see - then being strong as criticism comes back.  It helps me to hide my editor and do what I want to do, even if there are people out there that don't like it (how'd they get there?)  This edge means writing or falling off, and I will choose writing every time.

How do you find your edge?  Move forward in your life until there's the slight feeling of being uncomfortable, your brain and instincts are nudging you with a slight "fight or flight" feeling and you've hit it.  If you are getting ready to start something and find that you're shaking, yup, you've found it.

We all know life is short, hell we hear that all the time.  Arrive at your grave with the dings and dents exclaiming what a ride, everyone gets passed in the slow lane.  Where's your edge?

Seeking Journey Athletes!

Do you obsess? Do you pour over information? No, this is not a late night infomercial, but something I have recently decided to quit doing. Why? Because obsessing and races do not go hand in hand when getting older! I remember my coach saying to us gym rats (yes, you can be old and be a gym rat) “You’ll not be as fast as you were when you were younger!” And I thought, “What? When did that happen?”

I finished a race with some friends recently and went back to the times, pouring over everyone’s splits and finishing times, then I went and complained to my husband, “Man, they really did well. I can’t believe they beat me.” He sipped his coffee and looked at me and simply said, “Well, they are 15 years younger than you. Give yourself a break.”

Hmmm, maybe that is a point. As I started to go back to the times, I tried to think about why type of athlete I am, not armchair, not elite, then what am I? I think about all the races I’ve done (never add up what you’ve spent on races and cheerfully tell the other half who doesn’t race) and find that now as I approach that starting line, I’m there for the experience, there for enjoying being fit and showing it off when I can finish a race, there because others talked me into it (believe me, there were a few times I WASN’T happy someone talked me into a race) there because I want to do it to prove to myself that I can do it, not to anyone else.

What type of athlete are you? Do you pour over times wondering where you could shave off a few minutes? Do you obsess about the length of your workouts (yes, I am guilty of that but being a businessperson and Mom and wife means I’ve got to carve the time and sometimes it may not be the time I want) Or are you a journey athlete, enjoying the journey and getting to the point of “doing well” and “being competitive” without freaking out about it?

OK, so my OCD came back again and I had to go back to the numbers one more time. This time rather than looking at my friends times compared to mine (I mean, they are, afterall, 15 years younger than me) I went to my place in history – where I land in my age group (old farts) and 75th in a race that’s got over 6K people wasn’t that damn bad. Going to lace up the shoes.