thirty days with a grateful heart. day nineteen.

day nineteen.  o holy night.

I love Glee.

I even love this season when things are all discombobulated and there are a gazillion new characters and I'm having a really hard time figuring out where they're going storyline-wise, anyone else??

I either laugh or cry with each episode, I mean, seriously - there's so much going on - but with.out.fail - I sing.  Oftentimes at the top of my lungs to the great annoyance of anyone who happens to be watching along with me.

Lately, though, I've taken to recording it and watching it by myself while the house is quiet during the day, simply to avoid the inevitable begging and pleading from the littles... will you please stop singing???

Just recently, I watched one of the shows I had taped and although it is past Christmas, and the title of the episode, Swan Song, doesn't really sound Christmasy at all - imagine my i-lovelovelove-christmas-nusic delight when Rachel sang O Holy Night.

Sooooo good.

It made me wish I could sing like that just once in my life.  And grateful, since me becoming a singing diva is about as likely as hell freezing over, that I can at least listen to her do it.  On Glee.   Over and over again.  As many times as I like thanks to the magic of Direct TV.

Have you seen the Grease episode?

xoxo,
momo



thirty days with a grateful heart. day fourteen.

day fourteen.  the white house.

I love running in the Phoenix Mountain Preserve, the pmp, as we affectionately call it, because there is so much wonderful running to be had.  Flats and climbs and rocks and sand, you can literally (and I have) run for hours back in there and incredibly enough, you're also smack dab in the heart of the city. 

And although each of the trails has an actual name I believe, as I've run with friends back there, I've learned the local nicknames as well.  We have jj out and back and the rachel loop and honey ridge  and reunion point, the devil's backbone and four peaks.  I love them all, but for some reason, the white house holds a special place in my heart.

Just to the east of the first peak off the 32nd street trail, high up in the preserve is this white house.  I don't think anyone lives there now, and she just sits up on a mountain by herself - acting as somewhat of a landmark to runners who might not be sure which way to turn once they're inside the preserve.

We don't run that way very often unfortunately, but on days when I want a little extra mileage or days when I just need to clear my head a bit - I head up her way. 

Maybe it is the little climb up to where she is.  Maybe it is that suddenly the air seems a little bit clearer once you're there.

Whatever it is - her magic always does the trick - and today was no exception. 

Grateful.

xoxo,
momo

thirty days with a grateful heart. day eight.

day eight.  wise men.

I have not been sleeping well lately. 

I think the issue for me is two-fold.  On one hand, my sweet girl has decided to take up residence on the left side of my bed, which definitely messes with my sleep patterns since she likes to leave the television on till all hours of the night and inevitably, I wake to some sort of infomercial telling me there is some product I absolutely cannot live without. 

The bras are great.  The facelift in a bottle?  Not so much.

On the other hand, I think it is partly because, for the first time in a very long time, if ever, I have to be... responsible.

Not that I haven't been somewhat responsible the past twenty years because I have!  At least I think I have.  I've held a good job, I've helped plan for the future, I've raised two incredible littles, I've managed a home, a business, done laundry and grocery shopping and changed the lightbulbs and painted the walls and fed the dogs and you know, all the usual stuff we do in our daily lives.

It is just that now, all of a sudden, I find myself with all those same day in and day out responsibilities, the things we simply have to do to keep the wheels on the bus for those that we love, with nobody to rely upon but... me.

It stresses me out.

It keeps me up at night.

I wake and I start thinking and I can't go back to sleep and before I know it - hours have passed and I'm still... not sleeping, not solving... just stewing. 

At the end of my rope, I finally broke down the other night and... reached out.  In the middle of the night, after hours of thinking and thinking and thinking, I phoned a friend.

Ok, I didn't really phone a friend, I texted, but you get the idea.


1:52 am

What are you thinking about?

stuff i need to do.  work, christmas...  i am a planner so i start thinking about the future.

I think part of your issue is that you are trying to plan things that aren't necessarily things YOU can plan.  Then you perseverate on it and that's no fun.

(after i looked up perseverate) yup.

In the beginning of this transition... you were forcing a difficult situation and you had no idea what it would bring about.  Now you are near the end and the future, although its what you've been working toward, holds lots of unknowns... and its real now.  Kinda scary I'd imagine.

yes, maybe you are right.  i'm used to order.  to having "knowns".  there a lot of unknowns right now, it makes me uncomfortable.  and i feel wholly responsible for making all these decisions for everyone, me, littles.  and i don't feel like i am doing them all well.

Bullshit.  I don't see it that way. 
Nor does anyone else.
Guaranteed.

i spread myself too thin sometimes.   and i get stuck in the minutiae.

I think for the first time in your life you have to LEAD.  I mean really lead for real.  You're like a brand new second lieutenant, charging up some hill with her platoon... you've got the basic knowledge of what you have to do and you even have some training behind you that you can draw upon... but this time, right here and now, for the first time, you are truly alone and you are truly accountable for these lives that are assigned to you.  Scary as shit.  Leadership is intuition, supported by training and experience.  For the first time in your life, your "troops" are looking for you for leadership.  That's a lot of pressure.  Know what makes a good leader?

hm?

All sorts of shit.   Thousands of books have been written on it.

maybe i should get one.

No, maybe you should trust yourself.

i will try.

Leading folks is just plain and simple scary.  Any good leader is going to have moments of self doubt and consternation.  And that's ok.  Every good leader is scared.  Feels fear.  But not debilitated by fear.  Fear is good.  It focuses you into doing what is essential, what is good, what is right, right now.  Fear allows you to analyze then decide on a course of action with the best possible outcome for you and most importantly for your folks looking at you for guidance and direction.

its very scary.

It's very uncomfortable in the beginning, but soon, you learn to rely on your gut instinct.  That instinct plus courage based upon training and experience will guide you.  Listen to your gut.  Be confident in your instinct... your intuition.  Leadership isn't about knowing ALL the answers.  Its impossible to plan for everything so that's why you just have to press forward with a good game plan and trust that you'll do what is right when those challenging unknowns pop up along the way.  Trust yourself to know you'll do well when the time comes.

i appreciate being able to bounce ideas off you.

Absolutely.  Part of being a good leader is knowing your limitations and more importantly, NOT being afraid to ask for guidance or direction from those of whom you trust.  A lot of people think that is a sign of weakness but that's just false pride.  And it gets people dead... in the big scheme of life...

ack! i don't want to get my people dead! ;)

That's called accountability.  You just need to understand that you're not alone.  Good leaders surround themselves with a cadre of folks what will help guide their decisions.  YOU are solely accountable for your troops but you listen and you learn from those you trust.  Like REALLY trust, the ones who REALLY matter. 

Now go back to bed.

After the exchange was over, I reread it. 

And then I reread it again.  A few times.  And as with most things with me, slowly the truth of it started to sink in. 

I am afraid but I am not in this alone.  I might feel alone some days, but in reality, I have people.  Many people.  People that I trust, who have taught me, who believe in me and support me and love me all at the same time.  People who have been there, people who only want to be there, people I look up to and respect, who, although they love me, will not hesitate to tell me like it is, whether I want to hear it or not.

I have people.  Lots and lots of people.  People who, like my phone a friend, who are oh, so very... wise.

What a gift those people have been to me these past few months!  They have helped even when they didn't know that they were helping - letting me vent, letting me cry, letting me be afraid, letting me... be.  I'm not sure I would emotionally where I am today if it were not for those people. 

So, today, day eight, for those people, and in particular for the few I can wake at 1:52 am when I cannot sleep and I am going round and round and round the same ground mentally getting absolutely nowhere, I am so very, very grateful.

xoxo,
momo

thirty days with a grateful heart. day one. a new normal.

As much as I'd like to begin my thirty days with a curl your toes, feel good all over story of extreme gratefulness, I am afraid this first one is not going to be quite that.  So, please let this stand as fair warning - if you're looking for warm fuzzies or unicorns and rainbows, you probably won't find any of that here today.  Take a little breather and come on back tomorrow and I promise we'll get back on track.

So, here goes...

I'm certain I am not telling you anything you didn't already know but, bottom line, sometimes life sucks. 

Sometimes you put your heart and soul, everything you feel you have to give, into something, someone, you try and they try and then you both try some more, and it just doesn't work out.  Some days its your fault, as hard a pill as that is to swallow, but some days its not.  Some days its nobody's fault.  Some days, it just is what it is.

And in the end, it doesn't really matter who is to blame, anyway, does it?  The damage has been done.  The hurt too big.  The gap too wide.  The final chapter written. And at that point, the only thing you can do is to try to gather as many of the scattered pieces as you can and move forward.  One foot in front of the other.  One very slow step at a time.  Creating, as Big J has begun calling it... a new normal.

thirty days of gratitude - day one - a new normal

Wait. 

Don't react.  Step back, take a breath and listen for a moment.

Before you go getting your bad self all in a huff and start messaging Big J with...  Did you see what she said?  Can you believe she said she was grateful?  wtf?  Let me try to see if I can explain.

Bottom line?

Divorce... sucks.  For everybody.  Breaking up a family that has been together over eighteen years... sucks.  For everybody. Splitting time with your littles, dividing up stuff, choosing who goes where, wondering what the holidays will bring, hoping your friends don't think they can catch the dreaded d-disease, facing loneliness, realizing that your world is changing, sleeping alone... sucks.  For everybody.

Life sometimes sucks.

But. 

And you know with me, there is always a but... 

Through it all - through the anger and the depression and the confusion, through the sadness and the hurt - through it all... I suddenly find myself - grateful.

Yes, grateful.

I am grateful for all those who have reached out to us both during this time - for the emails, the phone calls, the texts and the shoulders to cry on when we needed them most.  You will never know how much those simple gestures can mean.

I am grateful for all that I have learned the past eighteen years about life, about love, about growth.  I am beyond grateful when I look at our littles and the incredible young people they have become and I realize what good parents Big J and I have been.  Really great parents, actually.

I am grateful because each day brings new hope that the friendship we shared might not be completely lost.  I'm grateful each and and every time I think about and speak to my family and friends, because they reinforce that I would never have become the woman I am today, the mother I am today, the person I am today, had Big J not been part of my life.

Yes, I am grateful.  And as much as life sometimes sucks, and as much as divorce sucks, because believe me it really, truly does suck, being grateful makes it suck just a teensy bit less today.

Grateful.

xoxo,
momo

thirty days with a grateful heart. the prelude.

Ahh, it's that time of year again... the holidays. 

I have to admit for awhile now, I've had somewhat of a love/hate relationship with the holidays.  Somehow I am guessing this year will be no exception.

I love what they are supposed to be...  a joyful celebration of the birth of our Lord.  A reminder to be thankful.  A special time set aside to make lasting memories with the family and friends that we love the most.  Cozy sweaters.  Brightly wrapped gifts.  The Little Drummer Boy.  Fireplaces and recipes handed down for generations.  It's a Wonderful... Lifetime.  I could go on and on and on.

More often than not, however, in the midst of the hustle and bustle of never ending traffic and foul tempered people and finding just the oh, so perfect gift and my attempt to get it all done just right, it seems improbable that it can be any other way.  That it can be, slower.  That it can be, meaningful.  That it can be, enjoyed and actually celebrated.

And that is when crazytown threatens to take me over, body, mind and soul, and I have to do whatever I can do, with every fiber of my being, to... be still and simply take in the wonder of the season. 

Because it can be wonderful, my friends.  Really, really wonderful.  If we let it.

To that end, last year, a sweet girlfriend of mine suggested I take a few moments each day in December to reflect.  To remind myself what I love most about the season and just what it is all about for me.  To take an opportunity to look at my life, at those in my life, and be amazed at what God has blessed me with.  To simply be grateful. 

When all is going well and life is happy, happy, happy - my gratefulness is abundant.  Most would probably agree.   But, some days, and I have had more than a few of them recently, it seems as if the world is conspiring against my happiness. Some days, I wake up and wonder what in the world I could possibly be grateful for about today?

Perhaps it is especially during those times, when taking a minute, maybe two, to be grateful changes us.  Brings us back to what we know to be true, and ultimately, what is truly important in life.  With ever fiber of my being, that is what I am hoping. 

It was a difficult and life changing journey last year.

I would imagine it will be no less so this year. 

And knowing that, knowing that if there were any point in my life that I needed to remind myself to be grateful, it is now - makes this year's journey that much more... important.  More... necessary. 

More... scary.

Trust me on this one. 

See you tomorrow.  xoxo!

thirty days with a grateful heart - day eleven

day eleven - daddy's girl

This week my therapist wanted to talk a little about my family life growing up, which made me realize that I have written ad infinitum about my momma on this blog, but I have not written very much at all about my dad. 

I've never told you how special a man he truly is.  How loyal, how faithful, how simply... good he is.  The honest to God truth is that my dad is as good a man as the day is long - he really, really, really is - there is just no other way to put it.

I've never told you how he has protected our country or how for years, and through three tours to Vietnam, he has fought, without reservation, for the basic freedoms I take for granted each and every day.

I've never told you how my dad was supposed to be deployed before I was born, or how he made the doctor induced me so that he could see me and hold me, at least once, before he had to go. 

I've never told you how he has supported me.  How he has listened to me.  Or how patient he is.   How he sat through every cheerleader ready-set-ok I ever wanted to show him without rolling an eye. 

I've never told you how I get my love of Indycar, of blackjack, of crosswords and of just about everything football from him.  How we share the same love of church and oh, the same hate for conflict.

I've never told you how much I've learned from him, about kindness and humility.  About how much his respect and love for me has influenced the woman I have become today.


I've never told you about how deeply he loved my mother.  So much so I find it difficult to put into words.  Or, about how incredibly he took care of her once she became ill.  How he would have sold his soul to protect her, to shelter her, from what she had to endure. 

I've never told you about his gentleness when he speaks to me, the sparkle in his eyes when he sees me, or the way that he hugs me that makes me certain I will forever be safe. 

I've never told you how much I love him.  How much I adore him.  How deeply grateful I am that I am his and he is mine.

No, I had never told you any of those things.   Maybe, just maybe, because I didn't need to.  

I'm pretty sure my daddy knows.