Ask for it

How are you? Really? I care. Honest, I do.

I know life is hard.

Somedays you wake up and you wonder if it’s worth getting out of bed. Somedays you wonder if you can.

Can you put one foot in front of the other? Just get through the day?

Can you find a bandage big enough to hide that wound? Can you keep from picking at it? Just picking at the edges or even digging in and making yourself feel worse? Why can’t you leave it alone long enough for it to heal?

Worse yet, is someone else picking at it? Keeping it raw and open?

Can you find sunglasses big enough to hide your puffy eyes?

Can you believe, just hang on and believe that if you get through today tomorrow might be better? And if not, at least you will get to sleep and forget it about it, at least till tomorrow morning, when you wonder if it's worth getting out of bed...

Do you have moments where you realize life feels normal again? And that feeling alone is a trigger, reminding you that you aren't normal and why, and then you are back into your wounded spirit again, after a brief time of normalcy?

Do you fall apart at the simplest acts of kindness? Simply being woke up by a kiss on the cheek or getting an email from a long distance friend who says they'd love to sit down for coffee and chat face to face? These simple, normal everyday events move you to tears?

And then.

You realize you have crossed through the valley and you are on the other side. There are no bruises or open wounds. There are scars, raised and purple from the deep wounds. There are scars, thin and white from the surface wounds. And there are the internal scars, internal wounds, that are being held together with stitches, lovingly sewn by Jesus. Not dissolvable stitches, because you are going to need them for the rest of your life to hold those wounds closed.

And.

You know that you are stronger because he has healed you.

Because by HIS wounds we are healed. Because our sin was put on him, he was pierced, crushed, punished so we could be healed. You are stronger because Jesus healed from a place of pain. From deep wounds inflicted by our sins. He gets it. He's been there. Isaiah 53:5

You are healed by a love that has no boundaries. A love so wide and long and high and deep that it went to the cross for you. A love that goes beyond knowledge. A love that fills us, a love that can do more than we can ask or imagine. A love that is powerful and is at work in us. Ephesians 3:17-20

So go ahead. Ask for healing. Ask for normal.

And.

Imagine. The. Impossible.

And.

Ask for it.

The extras

Whitney and I were talking the other day and she made the comment that at volleyball practice she does "the extras". I didn't know what this meant. She explained that Denae will set and she will hit for 30-45 minutes while the rest of the team works on passing, because her and Denae are stud passers already. She volunteers and that allows the coach to stand with the girls and give direction while they work.

I thought about this as I was reading the book of Malachi. Chapter 2 verse 2 says "Listen to me. Pay attention to what I say. Honor my name," says the Lord All-Powerful"

I did a brief search of my heart and I'm not sure I'm listening, paying attention and honoring his name. After this phrase it says "If you don't, I will send a curse on you and on your blessings. I have already cursed them, because you don't pay attention to what I say. 3 "I will punish your descendants. I will smear your faces with the animal insides left from your feasts, and you will be thrown away with it."

Ewwwwww...this is certainly good reason to obey that command.

I really love the first chapter, even the scolding that comes with it. The word pictures in Malachi are so vivid. Malachi 1:8 (Patsy paraphrase here) "Don't bring me any lame sacrifices." God expects - seriously expects and makes no apologies about it - our best. He deserves it, wants it, expects it.

Chapter 3:16-18 are wonderful, ones I remember, along with the heading the Lord's Promise of Mercy. "Then those who feared the LORD talked with each other, and the LORD listened and heard. A scroll of remembrance was written in his presence concerning those who feared the LORD and honored his name. “On the day when I act,” says the LORD Almighty, “they will be my treasured possession. I will spare them, just as a father has compassion and spares his son who serves him. And you will again see the distinction between the righteous and the wicked, between those who serve God and those who do not."


I want to be a treasured possession.

He is worth "the extras".

BONUS PIC OF WHITNEY GIVING HER ALL

Don't judge

I don't pin. I have enough time wasters. Words with friends, facebook, kindle. Don't need anymore.

I don't like Adele. I tried. But I don't get the lyrics. You set fire to the rain? You were rolling in the deep? I did come close to liking Rumor Has It when Katherine Mcphee sang it on Smash.

I don't like Twilight. But in my defense, vampires in my day were Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, Jasin Patric and Kiefer Sutherland. With lines like "I'll tell mom you're a vampire" it's hard to top that.

Believing all is forgiven

I was cleaning up some files and found this quote that I had saved. It's by the pastor of a church in Colorado, The Sanctuary, Peter Hiett

So I’m convinced your deepest problem is not the cigarettes you smoke or the alcohol you drink in secret. It’s not the slander you speak and the gossip you cherish. It’s not the pornography you pleasure yourself with when no one’s looking. It’s not the baby you aborted; it’s not that you betrayed your brother, cheated on your bride, lied about the whole thing, and retaliated with murder [King Herod]. It’s not even that you slaughtered the Lamb and killed the Messiah. Your deepest problem is that somewhere deep down inside, you believe Jesus the Messiah rose from the dead just to kick your ass, when, in fact, He rose from the dead so you would believe all is forgiven. It is finished! Justice is accomplished. And the Father is pleading, “Come home, come home, come home!”


I feel this way sometimes. That I can't escape the very real human frailties I have. Waiting for the punishment and chastisement of Jesus. Waiting to get what I deserve.

It is forgiven, why do I hold onto it? Why do I want to live beat down and ashamed? Why do I continue to focus on what I have done wrong, even though it's forgiven? This was especially timely as I went way back in my past one night this weekend to the worst pit I ever lived in and revisited it. Dredged up the memories. Emotional flogging of sorts. So I went on a search of Scriptures about forgiveness. Mostly intending to forgive myself and "come home". I highlighted a few things that really stood out to me.

From the Amplified Bible

Wash me thoroughly [and repeatedly] from my iniquity and guilt and cleanse me and make me wholly pure from my sin! Psalm 51: 2

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right, persevering, and steadfast spirit within me. Cast me not away from Your presence and take not Your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of Your salvation and uphold me with a willing spirit.
Psalm 51: 10-12

For if you forgive people their trespasses [their reckless and willful sins, leaving them, letting them go, and giving up resentment], your heavenly Father will also forgive you. Matthew 6: 14

If we [freely] admit that we have sinned and confess our sins, He is faithful and just (true to His own nature and promises) and will forgive our sins [dismiss our lawlessness] and [continuously] cleanse us from all unrighteousness [everything not in conformity to His will in purpose, thought, and action].
1 John 1: 9

We are promised his forgiveness. And he keeps his promises.

Worst run ever

I woke up this morning not feeling well. So I canceled on Sheila (again) because it seems one way to make sure something gets in the way of running is to plan to run with Sheila. Very public apology here, I'm sorry Sheila.

After resting a little while longer, I felt better. Nate was leaving this morning, so I waited till he left to run. I'm always a little emotional after he leaves.

Apparently, I didn't feel all the way better, because I stopped at every ladies room I past. I also threw up twice along the bike path. But because I'm a runner I kept running, this is what we do.

Then a father and his son rode past me on their bikes. The son unfortunately, wasn't a terrible skilled rider and forced my off the path where I stepped in fresh dog doodie.

I sweated off all my sunscreen and I'm sunburned.

I was two and half miles from home and I ran through an intersection where four young adult women were in a small green car. One yells out the window at me, "hey, porky, run faster". It was at this point I burst into tears and cried all the way home.

Good Days

I had a good day today.

Even though:

I overslept and was late to work. Had to put my makeup on at my desk and have my least favorite meeting of the week on Thursday mornings.

I had to park further away from the door because I was late and it's monsoon season in Kansas.

They are restructuring and I will have a new boss "TBD" and they are taking one member of our four person group to a new assignment and will divide her work up between the three of us.

Had to run errands at lunch, during the worst of the monsoon. Ran in Dillons, wanted some soup. Carefully looked at the selections, Loaded Baked Potato, Smokin Stampede Chile, New England Clam Chowder or Vegetarian Broccoli and Cheese (isn't all broccoli and cheese vegetarian?) Selected potato, added cheese and bacon bits, battled the wind and rain to get back to work. Took a big bite of my potato soup to find...clam chowder. I like clam chowder okay, however it was a first with cheese and bacon bits.

Afternoon was uneventful, there has been nothing that happened to make a it a good day. But it was. I love it when I'm blessed with a good day for no apparent reason. Just have a blessed life, I guess.

In my corner

An eventful week. Tuesday Zoey came into the world, here are a few more pictures.

Doesn't she look like me?

Zoey and her family.

Then SPRING BREAK TRIP to Dallas.

I love priceline.com.

Dinner at Piranha Killer Sushi with Steve's lifelong friend Jess Benner and his wife Mel. I had never eaten sushi. And in the spirit of being present in the moment, I ordered sushi. Cooked sushi, but I liked it. And I didn't pass up the sample of raw sushi. I wouldn't order it, but I didn't gag.

Six Flags. I shared a couple weeks ago that I don't like roller coasters. Again, being present in the moment and refusing to let my fear/dislike dictate the day, I rode five of them. The Titan Denae decided not to ride. Whitney was scared but wanted to ride so I told Steve to ride with her and got on by myself. NEVER CROSSED MY MIND TO NOT RIDE WITH DENAE. As the roller coaster climbed the first long hill, I realized I didn't want to ride, I really was afraid, and why the heck wasn't I standing safe at the exit with Denae? I would like to say that I relaxed and enjoyed the ride, but I stayed a fraidy cat through the whole ride and was quite thrilled to get off. I still rode two more.

After six hours I couldn't take it anymore and yes I did pay $3.50 for a 20 oz. diet coke.

These two had a ball. Until they got tired and cranky. So we left.

We then went to the Galleria for shopping and Whitney and Denae bought oodles of stuff. Cute stuff. It was fun to watch them and see all the cool stuff they found.

And of course, Steve and I had to find a trail for a couple of miles on territory we had never covered. Steve found this at Grapevine Lake. He ran much further than I did, and I sat in the car and watched the storm roll in over the lake and hoped he was ahead of it. He wasn't, it caught him with a mile and half left to go. To give you an idea of what he finished in, Dallas got 2 inches in 4 hours. It was crazy. And he loved it. I was quite happy that he got a long run in that he really enjoyed and that Whitney had a good time too.

Steve is the white speck running into the trees.

And of course, if my family is happy, I'm happy too. I also got a text Sunday while we were at Six Flags that said "I'm coming home tomorrow through Saturday. Yep, get to see my man child for a week. After the last two sucky spring breaks, this one was alright.

HEY! Did you just call me boring?

Steve and were talking at volleyball practice the other night to the same group of parents we always talk to. The conversation turned to something not culturally acceptable and I made a side comment to Steve in fun and he was concerned that one of the ladies heard me and took me serious.

I sent her a text message and told her I had a made a crass joke to my husband and he was worried she heard me and I wanted her to know that "I DO NOT _________". She answered that she hadn't heard me, but she knew that, we were the nicest, most normal, sweetest people she knew. (She doesn't know us well, does she? Actually, she's a close friend and my daughter spends countless hours at her house. And she still considers us normal.)

My response was, "HEY! Did you just call me boring?" She said never boring, but never weird.

Along with this comment, I also got an email in response to one I sent my "mean girl" calling me stupid, Steve stupid, and several other aspersions on my character. I know I should deal with conflict face to face. But on the times I've attempted that, emotions get in the way, tempers flare, I can't hold my tongue, and I make it worse. By dealing with it in writing, I can read it, re-read it, have a close friend read and edit it for me and be confident when I send it that I'm okay with what I'm saying. It might get forwarded or even posted on facebook. If I can send it under those condtions, I'm alright. It helps me deal only with me. My feelings and the circumstance. Not "who you are" or "what kind of person could do this" or what I might say in person, "you miserable low-down lying back stabbing witch".

I'm often struck by how people see us or don't see us, compared to how we see ourselves. I don't see myself as normal, or boring, or even sweet. I also don't see myself as stupid.

I read a book (a series of books) last week. It wasn't about this topic at all, but a couple of times the main character would deal with the idea that the world saw her different than she was, or that someone had seen the "real" her, not the heroine of the story.

I think about this a lot anyway. I quit living to other peoples expectations about a year ago. Steve told me to stop taking responsibility for everything. Sheila told me to stop trying to control everything. My brother told me to quite being so nice and stop being a doormat. These three? They got it right. I even saw all this in myself. It didn't start that way, it started out by trying to hold my tongue. Love others, meet their needs. And those are good things to do. I went overboard. I lost myself.
I have since lost more of myself. But I needed to. I have gained so much more. We never arrive, we are a work in progress. Philippians 1:6 (one of my favorite verses) says And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns. This is one of my favorites because it says that GOD began the work,and he will CONTINUE his work and he will FINISH it on the day Jesus returns.

I'm not there yet, but I'm not supposed to be. I'm farther along then I was yesterday, not where I'll be tomorrow.
Lovingly,


Your stupid, boring, normal, weird, nice, doormat, controlling virtual friend.

Zoey Avanell

I’m going to break one of my blogging rules and talk about my youngest stepdaughter. I generally don’t say much about my stepdaughters because I don’t feel it’s my place to share their lives on my blog. Ashley has had a rough couple of years. Much of it self-inflicted and she knows that and owns it. Bad decisions render bad results. She has really turned things around and is working really hard right now.

Ashley will be 20 in April, she is Mia’s mom, Mia will be 2 in July. Last fall Ashley called Steve and told him she was pregnant again. She didn’t want to call him. She didn’t want to be pregnant. She didn’t want to raise another child. She told us she was going to put the baby up for adoption.

She found a family, but that fell through rather quickly. I know 4 families that would like to adopt a baby. So Ashley called me and asked if I would check with them. But I had this weird feeling that I should contact someone other than any of these 4.

My college roommate is my age, but is in a much different place in life. (I don’t meant the fact that she lives in Bakersfield, CA either.) Rebecca has a wonderful husband and a 6 year old son. God, who we recognize his wisdom in this situation and Rebecca definitely seeks to follow God’s will, had chosen not to bless them with another child. Rebecca really wanted one, and was struggling with stuff that went along with this disappointment, including a couple miscarriages. I can’t imagine the feelings of loss. (And I didn’t know how bad it was, I did know about it.)

She had planned to attend a Grief Share Support Group to help her deal with these feelings. And the night of her first meeting, while she was sitting in the meeting, she got a text from me asking if they had ever considered adopting. She said yes, but there are so many things that make it difficult. I asked her if she would be interested if I could give her a baby in March. She asked if I was kidding.

Here we are on March 13th, and Rebecca was in the delivery room today with Ashley (dad Justin opted to hang out in the waiting room with big brother Josh) when Zoey Avanell Dyck entered the world. 7 lbs 19 ¾ inches.

He sees me beautiful

Isaiah 61 has been a favorite passage of scripture for a long time. I love the first four verses, actually memorized them a few years ago in a non-KJV for a Bible Study. That was a challenge.

I read it tonight and was really touched by these verses, (and I'll admit, convicted). I didn't expect this time of year to be as rough for me as it has been. So many triggered memories that I don't know how to deal with, don't want, and never know when they are coming. I deal, the best I can. This includes Bible, running, talking to people close to me that love me, and avoiding what I know brings me down.

Verse two says "He has sent me to tell those who mourn that the time of the LORD’s favor has come


I realize contextually this is not addressing me in my current situation. But I went back and read it again and had the thought that maybe the Lord is telling me it's time. Time to (my frequently used Lion King reference, can't help myself) put my behind in my past. It really is the past. I'm not there, Steve's not there, Nate's not there, Whitney's not there. We are here and now. I'm not where I thought I would be this spring. My life changed dramatically last year and I have accepted that that is okay. That God gives beauty for ashes, blessing instead of mourning, praise instead of despair.

Then I got to verse 10 I am overwhelmed with joy in the LORD my God! For he has dressed me with the clothing of salvation and draped me in a robe of righteousness. I am like a bridegroom in his wedding suit or a bride with her jewels.

I was beautiful on my wedding day. And that is the way that my Lord sees me. That is the way he dressed me with Salvation and Righteousness. There is good news for the oppressed. There is joy in our Lord.

Good News for the Oppressed
1 The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is upon me,
for the LORD has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted
and to proclaim that captives will be released
and prisoners will be freed.[a]
2 He has sent me to tell those who mourn
that the time of the LORD’s favor has come,[b]
and with it, the day of God’s anger against their enemies.
3 To all who mourn in Israel,[c]
he will give a crown of beauty for ashes,
a joyous blessing instead of mourning,
festive praise instead of despair.
In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks
that the LORD has planted for his own glory.
4 They will rebuild the ancient ruins,
repairing cities destroyed long ago.
They will revive them,
though they have been deserted for many generations.
5 Foreigners will be your servants.
They will feed your flocks
and plow your fields
and tend your vineyards.
6 You will be called priests of the LORD,
ministers of our God.
You will feed on the treasures of the nations
and boast in their riches.
7 Instead of shame and dishonor,
you will enjoy a double share of honor.
You will possess a double portion of prosperity in your land,
and everlasting joy will be yours.

8 “For I, the LORD, love justice.
I hate robbery and wrongdoing.
I will faithfully reward my people for their suffering
and make an everlasting covenant with them.
9 Their descendants will be recognized
and honored among the nations.
Everyone will realize that they are a people
the LORD has blessed.”

10 I am overwhelmed with joy in the LORD my God!
For he has dressed me with the clothing of salvation
and draped me in a robe of righteousness.
I am like a bridegroom in his wedding suit
or a bride with her jewels.
11 The Sovereign LORD will show his justice to the nations of the world.
Everyone will praise him!
His righteousness will be like a garden in early spring,
with plants springing up everywhere.

In My Corner

Dinner with Rebecca, she's in town for another week. (More on that later this week).

Six basketball games (it was a lot of good basketball and a lot of fun).

Heights Falcons boys 4 times in a row state champions, Girls two times in a row.

If you look carefully, you can see Whitney on the far end at the left. Caused some controversy because only Seniors get to sit on the front row of the senior section and her and Denae bucked that tradition.

Eight volleyball games.

This really is about all I got done.

Spit up and Smiles

I sit in the stands of the state high school basketball tournament games drinking my contraband smuggled in diet coke because the concession stand only sells diet pepsi. My eyes drift from the game to the student section three sections over. The 15 year old version of me sticks out with her bright eyes, smiling face and her long red hair. Oh and how she resembles me. My eyes and nose and features. My skin tone and hair. Expressions. The smile? That’s all her dad. But every other time her mouth opens it’s me. Victory face in volleyball, rolling the eyes, sarcastic comments, and it’s a perfect size 8.5, just like mine. (Matches our feet.)

She has more confidence than me. Not just then I had at that age, I think she has more confidence then I do now. Pink boots, gray yoga pants, Heights baseball tee shirt, circa 2009 (which makes it retro and way cool) and hoodie. Perfect top teeth, braces on the bottom.

I see her, head thrown back, mouth wide open in a laugh. I see her lean over and talk in Madeline’s ear. Not because it’s a secret, but because it’s loud right there next to the band. When I look again she’s with Claire. And the next time with Denae. Her circle. Her friends.

I think about volleyball practice earlier this week. The girls were playing 4 on 4. Joe and I decided to make it 5 on 5, me on Whitney’s team and him on Denae’s. And I played back row only. Was doing okay. I’m out of practice, but in good shape. Then Abby’s dad and Denae’s mom made it full teams of 6. And my little Whitney told me where to cover, this is my “base area”, followed by “never mind, mom, I’ll cover for you”. And then she did. As did Keeley and Abby. Which was sweet, but then they started setting Denae’s mom. And letting her dive for the ball. This was confusing, because I’m in better shape. I’m still athletic. I’m tough, I played competitively up till 3 years ago. I didn’t recently break my finger playing volleyball and end up with surgery and pins in it and 5 weeks off from work to recover.

Somehow Whitney felt the need to protect me. And her friends followed her lead in that. Honestly I was touched, not insulted.

Her life has so much promise. It’s all ahead of her. She’s been hurt. Life has handed her some rough situations to deal with early on. Which is why she is so tough already. And I’m overwhelmed with child-woman I see across the crowd, the responsibility I still have to guide her into adulthood, and the hope that life sees her as wonderful as I do.

Motherhood is not for the faint of heart. Unfortunately, by the time you know that you are knee deep in spit up and smiles, ear aches and adventures in living room furniture tent camping, mac n cheese and hot dogs, backpacks and first days of school and their first taste of freedom as someone else begins to speak into their lives.

As a 15 year old sophomore, she still surprises me. This wonder that tells her dad she wants to be an anesthesioligist and tells me she wants to work at Hooters. That asks for Little Debbie snack cakes and black beans and rice. That gets excited about Lion King (and Lion King II and Lion King 1 1/2). That knows more about the ways of the world than I would ever want her to know and yet is strangely innocent. That tried out for the track team and not like last time, eighth grade year as a manager, this year she’s throwing the Javelin on the JV team. Woooo hoooo, Go Falcons! My two sport athlete.

The Other Woman

I was on facebook the other day and saw that Hannah had changed her profile picture. This made me tear up. An unexpected picture of Nate. It made my day, even through the tears.

16 years ago, I was the only woman in his life.

I'm happy to share, he's such a good man.

Mean Girls

It's happened again. I've been on the receiving end of a woman intentionally inflicting pain on me. I was going to share the details because that would have made me feel better. But it would not have been the right thing to do. I would've painted her as a monster and she isn't. But I can't think of much good to say about her right now so I will take my mama's advice and "say nothing at all". Oh wait, it's already to late for that.


This is a soap box issue for me. Women who hurt each other instead of trying to lift each other up. I'm not talking the unintentional, even though I think we should try not to do that either, I'm talking the pay you back or hurt you because I'm hurting or I'm just a mean bitch striking out at the world, or I hate you because I hate myself and see what I'd like to be.


As women, why can’t we love and support each other? Why can’t we address issues and forgive each other? Why do we have to put each other down? Hurt each other?


Am I the only one who has heard (and said) negative comments about other women and their:


Marriages, Children, Clothes, Body, lifestyle, how they spend their money?


I try not to be that woman. I try to love other women. Look for good in them and their children. Be positive and encouraging. (For those of you who know me well…please don’t call me out here, I really am trying). Having said this, I owe a few apologies. And I’ve made a few this week.


We all have our insecurities. Surely I’m not the only one who feels a little less when someone stops by my house and it’s not company clean. The only one whose children have ever embarrassed me. Whose husband isn’t perfect. Whose hair has bad days. Who has bags under her eyes. Has an imperfect body.


I don’t like despising other women. And their are two that I feel that way right now. I'm praying about it. Constantly giving it to God. And one is getting better, I have more days that I don't feel that way, but it's not gone. And as life seems to go, another one is placed in my struggle zone as I feel I'm starting to get victory. Obviously this is not an "issue struggle" but a "person struggle".


So I’m going to lay it out there. I’m trying even harder. To love other women. To compliment them. To not be unkind about their children. (In all fairness, with my five kids, I have no reason to feel like I got it right.)


To avoid the ones I can’t be positive or kind to until I can.


My first step was to tell a friend who just started training for a 5K that I would run with her. She said, but you run marathons, I can only run a block. And I explained to her that when I started running, I could only run a block at a time. I hated that she felt less talking to me. Inferior. She can do what I do; she just started four years later. Small example, but THIS is the ME I WANT TO BE.


Not like the lady in Sports Authority last night. I had been at work and was meeting Rebecca and several of the girls at Sweet Basil and went by Sports Authority last night still in work clothes and shoes. I was buying body glide and GU, (isn't my life glamorous?) I overheard her say, yeh I used to dress up too, before I had kids. It wasn't said kindly. I was the only other person in Sports Authority, so pretty sure it was about me. And as I never feel like I'm dressed appropriately, I instantly felt insecure and I think my face turned pink. WHY??? She didn't know me. It may have been my only nice clothes. I may work nights. I may have come from a funeral (it was all black). Regardless, it didn't need to be said.


But hey, I look like I don't have kids. I'm taking that to mean my clothes are neat and clean, free of baby drool and donut frosting, I have my hair done and my make up on and I'm out on a Monday night dressed up for dinner on the town. Which included one glass of red and home by 9:00. Still, it's a compliment. Mean, but a compliment.


So ladies, from this imperfect woman to all of you, praying a day of kindness and compliments your way. And if you need a specific one, text me, email me or call me. I'm pretty sure I can come up with a heartfelt true postive comment about you.


Much Love to you all.

I don't wanna be a grown up

I don’t want to be a grown up today. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to have to think about how much vacation I have and who would finish the two projects on my desk that are due tomorrow. I didn’t want to put on two layers of foundation to even out my skin tone. I don’t want to deal with the chronic aches and pains that come from getting older. I wanted to put my hair in a ponytail. I wanted to put on yoga pants and a hoodie. I want grandma to give me $10 or $20 every time she sees me. I want it to be at least acceptable to be mad at mean girls who purposely hurt me and if I call them the names they deserve everyone excuses it because of my immaturity. I don’t want to be responsible for the dishes and laundry getting done. Even if I don’t do them, I’m still having to make sure they get done. I don’t want to pay the electric and gas bill or stop by the grocery store on my way home. Since I have already lived the teenage part of my life and do acknowledge that it is Whitney’s turn now, I put on my big girl pants, my work clothes and my make-up and I am being a grown up. But on the inside…I’m wearing yoga pants.

In My Corner

I ran a night trail run Friday. 16 miles in the cold and dark. Hip flexors killed me. Whitney's volleyball team got third place in their tournament. More "mama drama". Too bad for the girls