A Gift

I've been struggling about the whole "gift thing" for Christmas. I'm happy to give, I really am. But I feel like gifts are for kids. There is really no one on the adult gift list in my world that really needs anything. Certainly not anything some one needs to go into debt for. And really, I've got everything I need too. Maybe we feel it's traditional to give gifts, that something will be lacking if we don't.

But at this point in my life I think I'd rather give and receive an emotional gift.

I'd rather get a sentimental card from someone that expresses their heartfelt feelings then a gift I may not remember next year. My husband and I want to spend time doing something to make a memory together instead. Then we can reflect about it often. We could have those "remember when we did... how much fun it was" moments-- that seems more meaningful to me. It's a gift that keeps on giving after all.

This year my daughter came home from Christmas, it's been several years since she's been with us. She's grown into a lovely woman. She's so strong and smart. She's well traveled and interesting. It was a joy to spend time together. We didn't really do anything special. With the Christmas snow storm we stayed close to home. We just hung out and talked. We cooked and played games. We enjoyed the downtime together and reconnected. It was a wonderful gift for me. It made Christmas really special this year. We made memories.

It's funny, a week ago I was all stressed out. Hating the hustle and the stress of the holidays. Today I feel peace. I feel like I'm healing from the beating I took this year. I feel like there is hope for change. I'm looking forward to learning new things and starting new adventures in 2010.

So I'm putting 2009 to bed. Along with the anger and the angst it caused me.

I'm moving on.

There's a new decade to ring in.

A new chance for change. Better days are on the horizon.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Thank you for reading me this year!

'Tis the Season

Gosh I'm busy. I'm not sure what with, but I feel stressed. I think it's just the general mood of the holidays, S-T-R-E-S-S. What happened to Joy and Peace? I thought they were supozed to be the feelings of Christmas. I really haven't felt that in years.

I'm so tired of the holiday push. I hate that Christmas items are in the stores right behind Halloween. Thanksgiving sort of gets jipped. I rebel, I refuse to even look at them until after Thanksgiving. And even now, I really have no Christmas spirit within. I put up my tree last weekend, I baked cookies for my co-workers. Still, no Christmas spirit. Maybe it comes in a bottle. People keep telling me I should drink more.

But I keep hearing about sad stories. An acquaintence of mine is losing her home to foreclosure. Another is in a frustrating relationship. Another out of work. Many are under-employed or in dead-end positions. I want to give to others, I want to help and yet I feel helpless. I can listen, I can be their shoulder to cry on. But I'm not sure what I can do to actually help their situations. I'm kind of in the same boat. I got problems too, we all do.

I can't really afford to spend money on Christmas gifts, but I do it anyway. But I'm just not feeling it. It feels like more of an obligation then a downright sense of giving. I think Christmas gifts should be for kids. And, I think it's nice to exchange a gift with your sweetheart to thank them for all they do. Other then that why do we feel so obligated to over-spend for one day. I thought the meaning of Christmas was supozed to be about Jesus. How did it turn into this retail nightmare?

I used to love Christmas, I looked forward to it every year. I would get really excited about it. I'd decorate the house up, shop for the perfect gifts, wrap my presents with fabric bows and beautiful paper. I'd start listening to Christmas music by December 1st. But past Christmas's seemed better. At my old job we had a Trim-the-Tree party, a client Christmas party and an Employee party. My girlfriend and I used to throw an "Annual Semi-Formal Christmas Wapatooi Bash" each year. There were events to go to and happiness and joy would abound. Now Christmas feels like it's being shoved down my throat. Buy, buy, buy, rush rush, rush, spend, spend spend. Sad as it is to say, I can't wait for it to be over. Let's get on with the New Year already.

But last year I did manage to do one thing that gave me Christmas spirit. Maybe other's can do this too, it will definitely lift your mood. Last year I decided to tell everyone in my family exactly why I loved them.

I sat down with my computer and wrote out 25 reasons why I loved each person. I did one hundred reasons for my hubby. It took me hours and hours. Of course there were the obligitory reasons... they are kind to animals, they are kind to my parents, and so on. But actually, it was kind of hard. It forced me to sit down and really think about my family. My older nephew and I really aren't that close anymore. I personally don't know him all that well. Same went for my brother-in-law, we don't have a whole lot of one-on-one contact, so it's was a challenge to think of all these reasons. But I was determined.

I painstakenly wrote down each reason. I printed them out and cut them up into strips like fortunes in a cookie. I found some cute little boxes at the craft store and proceeded to fold each reason up and fill each box. Come Christmas Eve I handed them out. No one knew I was going to do this. We all sat in a circle and before we exchanged gifts I had every one read three reasons from each of their boxes. It was the greatest gift I had ever given. As they all read them aloud, they smiled and laughed. Some had tears in their eyes, including me. They didn't want to stop at three reasons, we went 'round and 'round in the circle till we read more then 10 or 15 each. The joy I created with this simple gesture was astounding. I felt my own Christmas spirit for the first time in years. The gift I gave each of them was the greatest gift I ever received.

Everyone has told me that they kept their boxes. When they have a bad day they will read one or two of my reasons and it makes them feel better. My Dad keeps his in the top drawer of his dresser. My Mom says he looks at it every day. I have a feeling all of them will keep that little box the rest of their lives.

To me, that is what Christmas is all about. That is the feeling I want. I can't express to you how good it felt to see the tears in their eyes. To know that I touched them in a very personal way. To tell someone what it is about them that you love--to tell them they are special and that they have changed your life in some profound way--that is what Christmas is supozed to be I think.

It seems like that is what Jesus would want.
I doubt he'd know what to do with an I-pod.

Giving Thanks

This year was the first time my hubby and I had nowhere to go on Thanks-giving. It was actually quite nice. I love getting together with family and all, but it was nice for a change to have some down time together on a holiday where we didn't have to rush off anywhere or drive an hour to get there.

He had seen a recipe on Rachel Ray a couple weeks ago and asked me if I could make it, I said sure, I'd make for him on Thanksgiving. If you know me at all you'd know that while I'm not an avid cook, I have been known to make a pretty decent meal now and again. It called for several things I don't normally stock and I had to go several places to find all the ingredients. Things like fresh ground nutmeg, shallots and fresh thyme, marmalade and grainy brown mustard. Now normally I really don't care to cook; during the work week there is just no time to be creative. So I'm more of a soup and salad kind of girl most nights. But on Sunday's I try to to spoil my guy a little and make at least one nice meal.

Since it was our first Thanksgiving alone, I decided I wanted it to be special so I didn't scrimp or substitute on anything. I bought all organic ingredients. I even bought a special grater to grate my whole nutmeg and spent $6 for a roll of parchment paper I don't know when I'll use again. But I decided to go for it with full out gusto. It was actually kind of fun. I used the fancy dishes; I lit a candle and had soft music on the stereo. We cracked a bottle of wine… it was actually kind-of romantic.

Being Thanksgiving and all I decided it just wouldn't be the same if I didn't make a batch of my Mom's rice stuffing so I added that to the meal plan. And if I do say so myself, for a fairly basic recipe; Turkey rolls (meatloaf) with roasted sweet potatoes, peas with radishes, Mom's stuffing and a simple pan gravy, it was really packed full with flavor. I've never made gravy before; it always seemed like that one elusive thing that is really easy to screw up. But I had a back up plan, I bought some ready made stuff just in case. I think my husband felt like he died and went to heaven. He made more yum-yum noises in that meal then I think he has made in all our years together. He practically licked his plate clean. He said it six times if he said it once, "the meal was de-lish", it was a success. If I learned anything that day, I truly learned that the way to my husband's heart is with a ladle full of gravy.

But I learned something about myself too. I learned that there is pleasure in taking pride in my cooking-- In going the extra step to make it special. I learned to relax a little and enjoy the time I spent preparing the meal. I learned that Thanksgiving is not about the hustle and the bustle to get to the turkey and pie; it's about enjoying the simple things. Making a toast to a better year, standing side-by-side doing the dishes, going for a walk on a crisp fall afternoon. I let spontaneity filter-in to the plans a little; and was willing to try something new.

It was the best Thanksgiving I had in a long time.

I guess that's what it's all about isn't it? Giving of yourself and giving thanks to others... enjoying the simple things.

Why do we forget that?

What's Important

My little trip to the ER last week really made an impact on me. It's been kind of nice in a way. Everyone is very concerned about me. I've gotten a lot of nice Facebook notes and phone calls. My husband has been very attentive and lovey since then. While that is not unusual for us, we are always romantic together, I think I really scared him. The truth is, I scared me too.

But it did give me a sense of clarity. It made me see that anything can happen at any time. That each day needs to be lived to it's fullest. That we take for granted so many things that are little blessings each day. That our health is nothing to mess with and that I'm not as healthy as I profess to be. And mostly, that I need to get off my butt and really do something about my weight.

I have never really liked to exercise. And I am usually more then willing to put it off for a better offer. Although to my defense, I have made quite a commitment to yoga the last two years. It's probably the first thing that I've really stayed consistent with for any length of time. But I know I need to do more, and more importantly, do more every day.

More and more I'm realizing that having a desk job is sort of like living a slow death. Ok, that's a little dramatic, but really when you think about it a desk job is probably one of the worst things you can do for your health. You stare at a box all day, you don't get any fresh air, you barely move. You get neck, wrist and elbow pain even though the most exercise you get is going for a potty break. I wore a pedometer to work for awhile. On a good day I got in a couple thousand steps. On a bad day, barely 900. They say we need 10,000 steps a day. That's about 5 miles by my calculations. Even a trip to Target only gives me about 2,500 steps. So I'm coming up extremely short.

People who are on their feet all day might do that many. But people with desk jobs...not so much. Perhaps if I worked in a large corporate environment I could take walk breaks. I would have to park far away. I could roam the halls to meet with co-workers. But my longest jaunt anywhere in my building is about 35 steps. I try to park a block or two away. I try to get out over lunch and take a walk around the block. But more often then not I'm pressed for time and never do.

I'm not a lazy person by any means, but I just can't seem to stay motivated with an intense exercise program. Part of it is that I really never see any results. I joined a gym a couple years ago. For 6 months I went to the gym 3-4 days a week. I worked with trainers. I saw the nutritionist. I did 45-60 minutes on the treadmill each time along with hundreds of reps on the machines. I did exactly what they told me to do. After 6 months I had lost 4 pounds, no inches. Four - stinking - pounds. Big deal. I can gain and lose that on a weekly basis.

So I quit the gym. I've done lots of stints like that. I did Curves for several years, I've done lots of aerobics classes. My hubby and I walk, and bike and golf together. We spend a lot of time in the garden and on landscaping projects... and still I struggle. At home programs don't seem to work for me, it's like I need the pressure of having to go somewhere, having to pay for it and feel guilty if I blow it off. But in this tight economy, I can't really afford to pay a membership fee either.

But, like I said, I got scared. So Saturday morning I spent some time on the bike and health rider in my basement. I went and bought a kettleball. Sunday morning my hubby and I went for an hour long walk. Later on I did some reps with the new kettleball. I didn't let the palpitations knock me down. Oh I still have them, but they are fading. But my will now seems strong.

The really weird thing is that my cravings for sugar have completely stopped. All summer long, the more stressed I got, the more my sweet tooth screamed at me. Chocolate was my vice of choice. But last week, the cravings stopped. Maybe my heart was screaming louder, I'm not sure. But whatever the reason I have this new found diligence. I'm going to run with it.

Life's too important. My husband, my family, my friends... They mean more to me then my ambivalence toward exercise or my love for chocolate. So here I go again, off on another quest...but this time, this time my heart is in it too.

Is it all down hill from here?

I spent yesterday afternoon in the ER. I'd been having heart palpitations for about 5 days.


I wasn't overly worried at first, but it was something I never experienced before. Yesterday they were coming every couple of minutes. The faster they came, the more I panicked. Since heart problems run in my family on both my parents side, and I could stand to lose a few pounds, I started to worry. Anyone I mentioned it to said, "get checked out, you don't want to mess around with your heart". The last straw was my Doctor's office refusing to even let me speak to my Doc about it. All they said was, "get to the ER, now!"


Oh Crap, now I'm scared. I drove myself to the closest ER in the city. Too urban for me, no place to park, suspect looking people lurking about. I started to cry. I called my hubby. "What do I do? I don't want to be here." I went to the closest suburban hospital instead. I felt much more at ease in my old stomping grounds.


There was no one in the waiting room, Thank God. I was really afraid I'd have a bunch of H1N1 sickies sitting there snogging all over everything. The front desk gal called me "hon". "Whatcha here for today hon?" Like I was ordering soup or something. "Chest Pains". "And who brought you in?" "Me." She got me a wheelchair and with the biggest smile on her face she could muster said, "how old are ya hon?" "43." She laughed, "it all goes down hill from there..."


Great. That's just great. I thought I was doing pretty good. I'm a pretty healthy eater. I take my vitamins, I do yoga and meditate. I'm somewhat active, a jock I aint, but I get around. And now I find out that despite all my effort, resistance is futile. I'm going down with the rest of them anyway... Crap.


So I got all these tests done, they had me all wired up. Took my blood, stabbed me a few times to find a good vein, that's always fun. My hubby could see the palpitations on the monitor as they happened. He kept making silly jokes and naughty innuendo's to see if he could get the lines to dip - he needed something to do to pass the time.


They came in no less then 5 times to ask me my name and to verify my information. Did they think that I was going to keep switching rooms or something? I was connected to the bed with 50 wires, just where exactly was I going to go? I couldn't leave to go potty without getting the nurses permission.


So what did I find out? I'm fine. Apparently I have an irregular heart beat that is fairly common. For some unknown reason it decided to manifest itself this week an make itself known. They said it was probably stress related. Ironically in the last few weeks my stress level has dropped about 50%. I got some of my pay and hours back at work. The ridiculously busy summer I had at work has slowed to a workable pace. My writing submissions have been met with a good response. I have been more calm this week then I have for the last 6 months.


I thought I was on an upswing.


Of course now I have something new to stress about. I figure my little ER visit is going to cost me about 3Grand. And, I have a $5,000 deductible, so none of it will be covered. I swear sometimes my life consists of one step forward and two steps back. And now there is the whole "going downhill" thing I have to worry about.


A few summers ago we went up to Duluth for the weekend. We brought our bikes and thought we were taking the leisurely trail along the lake. It ended up being 2 miles straight uphill. We pushed our bikes most of the way, ever try to ride a recumbent up a hill?, it doesn't work. But when we got to the top, the view was great. Without hesitation I hopped on my bike, turned and gave a wink and a smile to my hubby and took off down hill. I yelled "Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" all the way down. Best two minutes of my life. No cares, no worries, just the wind in my hair and a smile on my face.


If we have to "go downhill" as we age, don't you think it should be like that?


No cares.


No worries.


Just the wind in your hair and a smile on your face.

OMG I can't be that old

I went for coffee today. The young man at the register called me "Miss" wow, seems like a long time since I was a "Miss". I kind of wanted to give him a hug for that. The last 20 years just whizzed right by. Why is it that the older you get the faster time seems to fly?

I remember as a kid the years seemed endless. It took forever to get to high school. Seemed like an eternity before I graduated. Even my early 20's went pretty slow. But now, wow, OMG I'm 43 and can't figure out where the last 20 years went. Then this morning I found a substantial wrinkle. When the hell did that get there? Now that's depressing.

But I don't feel that old. My body feels older yes, but my mind doesn't. The good old days seem like they were yesterday. When I get together with my girlfriends it's like we are back in high school again just as giggly and silly as ever. I used to be the young one at my job, now I'm the one with all the experience.

But I still feel young and fun and hopeful inside.

I am so much wiser then I used to be too, I have so many more things figured out. I wish I could go back and tell my young self all the things I've learned, warn myself of all the mistakes I made so that I can do it right.

I wish I could have warned myself about credit cards and yo-yo dieting. I wish I would have exercised more. I wish I would have saved money regularly. I wish I could have stopped myself from succumbing to peer pressure and not have partied as much. I wish I would have followed my heart and gone to art school or design school instead of business school. I wish I would have taken more chances and had a little more idea of who I wanted to be when I grew up.

Too bad we often don't figure that out until later on.

But I'm really glad for who I am, I think I turned out pretty good all in all. I think I did a lot of things right. Like being a good daughter and friend. Like marrying the right guy and being a good Step Mom. Like having strong work ethics and a great sense of responsibility. Like being creative and seeing the possibilities in life. The years have been pretty good really.

Maybe in 20 more years I'll look back and realize that it all happened for a reason. That every little second of my existence was meant to bring me to some great conclusion about life. Maybe I'll have figured out my purpose on this earth. Maybe the next twenty years will be better, more memorable and more exciting then these. Hopefully they will have come up with better wrinkle cream by then.

One can only hope.

Being Alone

I got an email today that asked,
"What is your greatest fear?".


I never really thought about this question until about 15 years or so ago. A bunch of us girls at work were talking around the lunch table. We were all in our late 20's or so and they were talking about having kids. I was never super interested in having babies. I mean I like kids and all, but just never really saw myself having any. One of the girls asked me, "if you don't have kids who is going to take care of you when you get old?" From then on I couldn't get that question out of my head. Who will take care of me? It became a very real fear.


I am the youngest of my siblings. My brother and sister are 9 and 12 years older then me. My husband is 10 years older then me. None of them in the best shape. Oh, they are healthy enough, but they all have one issue or another. My husband's philosophy about Doctors is, "if it aint broke don't fix it" , so I can't even get him checked out to see how many miles he's got left on him.

I didn't have biological kids, I don't have a great retirement plan. So what am I going to do?

I know I don't want to live in a nursing home that is for sure. But the way retirement communities cost, I'll never be able to afford it. My girls live out of the area, so it's going to be hard to rely on them. Not that I would want to burden them with my elder care.


My nephew assures me that he will invite me over for "Thanksgiving and stuff." That's somewhat reassuring I guess. But still...there is a very real possibility that I could end up alone. My sister says I shouldn't ponder things like that, "we all take our chances every day, any one of us could step off a curb and get hit by a bus at any time..." thanks sis, but that really doesn't make me feel any better either.


The way the economy is going I'm guessing that by the time I am ready to start collecting my social security it'll be gone. Never mind the hundreds of thousands of dollars I've paid in, it'll just be gone. *!Poof!*. Good God with the way the insurance and medical costs have increased what can I expect 25 years down road? Will someone please tell me why people are fighting health care reform??


I have this fantasy that my husband and I will go together. I couldn't imagine living one day with out him. But I'm guessing that will remain a fantasy too. I don't know why I have this strong feeling that I am going to outlive everyone I love. Is that weird? I'm not in the worlds greatest shape myself, so there's a very real possibility that somehow my subconscious mind is sabotaging me. If I don't take care of myself then I will die young. Then I won't have to outlive my loved ones and be alone. That's kind of twisted, but could quite possibly be true I suppose. I wonder what a psychoanalyst would say about that?


But I can't think like that. I can't have those doomsday thoughts. I can't envision myself as the crazy old cat lady surviving on cat chow. I need to put positive thoughts into the universe, right?


So I'm thinking I need a new game plan. I will need to gather some other old gals that will probably need a roommate or two. Perhaps we can start a home for wayward old ladies. Yeah, we can play cards and do crafts and wear funny red hats. We can take the bus to happy hour once a week and have sleepovers like we did when we were girls. We'll hire cute young gardeners to take care of the yard and maintenance. My girlfriends are pretty fun, I'm kinda hoping at least a few of them will want to join me in my Home for Old Hotties. It'll be like a perpetual girlfriend weekend.


Wait now, this is sounding more and more fun. Never mind all those fears, I think I'm going to be just fine. Instead of the crazy old cat lady - I can be "Cat Woman".