I'm Human, right?

When anything upsetting happens, I feel this extreme need to share. When I disappoint myself, I have this desire to talk about it, because I have no other outlet. When I'm hurting, I let people know I'm hurting. When I fall, I need to be helped up. I sometimes think (to myself--obviously) "Okay, Sarah, lets not tell everyone how you messed up-- keep it secret." I tell myself this, but I can't control the need to share, just in case, my circumstance may help others, and (selfishly) I, in return will receive the support I am obviously looking for. My biggest, proudest achievement, thus far in life, aside from my children, is my sobriety. And, I messed that up--for a few hours. I chose to take a risk, during a weak moment. I'm human. I can't undo what I did. I can choose to not put myself in a similar situation, that proved to be more than I could handle. Am I mad at myself? Sure. Did I beat myself up? Yes. Did I grow a bit from this experience, I hope so.  I won't go into specifics about tipping over in the wagon, but it was eventful. I was like a child with their hand in a cookie jar. I was at a Snoop Dogg concert for crying out loud. I danced, laughed, and I asked every single person, gang members and all, where they were from and what their favorite colors were. I am human. You live and learn. I learned that I still hate not being in control of my own actions. I learned that, I will never go to Mexico again, probably either. I am human--I make mistakes-many of them. I am lucky to have the family and friends I have, who weren't necessarily mad at me, possibly disappointed, but they were more worried about how disappointed I was in myself. And for that I am lucky. For that I am grateful--for these people love me.

Weak?

I'm weak. I am not strong like the lady in the above picture. I have gained some much needed strength over the last couple of months, by pushing hospital gurneys around well...a hospital. This is a huge feat, many of the people I push are much larger than myself, but even the smallest person, on those beds, are hard to push specifically for a person with my lack of muscles. I have no upper body muscle, so all of the pushing I do, comes from my legs, and I often look silly doing a full on squat- run behind not only hospital gurneys, but also full on hospital sized beds. For one, when I am doing the squat run, I can't see over the head of the bed...and for two well, there isn't really a two, just a one. I have started to do push-ups at night to try gain  strength in my upper body area. I always ask for help, and only once or twice have I pushed a hospital gurney by myself. But, I think I am really no help at all, to the people who are helping me push.

Sometimes, I wonder if my lack of physical strength goes along with my lack of mental strength. I'm not always in a lull. But, I'm often in a lull (as I have written about too many times in the past). However, for me it's important to share with people how I feel, because to often people think they are all alone in feeling a certain way, which does not include sunshine, rainbows, and lollipops. This lack of happiness if you will, is a huge burden-- I have a family who is counting on me--I have children who need my attention, and when my mind starts to wonder, it takes a lot of mental power for me to turn off or turn away from THE "blah feeling". I easily get hung up on elements within the world I can't control. I easily let others have power over me. Recently, I had to ask...well...myself, why I let people or certain elements in this world have power over me.  Another question that I've had to ask myself, is why I feel like I NEED the approval of others. Obviously, there are people's opinions I value. But, if I feel that what I have done, or how I acted in a certain situation, was the right way to act and I honestly believe that, even though others may not approve, shouldn't I be able to move on--and not dwell? Yes, I should, the answer is obvious. But, only recently, (like the last few days), have I understood this (I should say started to understand this). Distancing myself from a broad spectrum of what I feel has been unhealthy habits, people, or thought processes will not only help me shake some of the blues away, but will allow me to thrive. The other day, I sat with two of my dear friends and I cried. I cried because I was sad. I cried because I was overwhelmed. After I left them, I felt stupid because I let them see me with my guard down and I let them see how weak I was. However, these two people love me, and I after I stopped kicking myself for letting them see me cry, I was able to recognize that the look they had in their eyes was love. They didn't want to see me hurting, just as I wouldn't want to see them hurting. I believe there are many people in this world that love me that I have not given credit to. It warms my heart to finally be able to start "seeing" this. My husband can read me like a book. He knows me better than I know myself. He has from day one, believed in me. We all have people in our lives that believe in us. Therefore, I encourage all of you (if you is anyone, since I am writing to myself here) to acknowledge those that believe in you. Because, far to often (well in my world) we get so caught up in those who do not believe in us that we don't give credit to the ones do. Thank you for believing in me. Love, Sarah.

California and Parades.

I spent Thanksgiving with my husband, my children (of course), my mom and dad, and my grandma and grandpa. Once in a while, my brother takes a break from hunting and shows up, but this often scares us, because he is dressed from head to toe in camo, and we don't know he is there, until he says something (which, by the way we love it when we  finally realize he is there). Jess had to go to work on Thanksgiving Day, so we celebrated the holiday on Wednesday so Jesse could eat with us.

Jesse had to fly to Los Angeles. Yesterday, I talked to him on the phone while he was driving in LA. He hates driving in LA, because I guess the laws regarding driving offences are really strict. When Jesse was home this last time, he received a letter from California's Law Enforcement, and within the letter was a picture of a person running a red light, and a bill for 400 dollars. In the picture was a woman running a red light. I guess it was Jesse's co-pilot driving the rental car they shared. Jesse is in a pickle, I think.

Owen might be the cutest person on the planet. He has such a sweet persona. Last night, I was having a little snack and he pulled chair up right next to me. It was getting late, so I told him he had only five minutes left until bedtime. He then asked me "Mom, will you play hockey with me, please, please mom?" And his voice is so sweet. When he talks his voice is high pitched and as he continues to talk, his voice get higher and higher. I politely declined the hockey request, and then through clinched teeth, he continued to ask (yell) "PLEASE!" and when I said no, he hit me on my arm--3 times. Since, he was mad at me, he climbed off the bar stool, and in anger, he sat down and preceded to take off (one by one), his imaginary hockey clothing and pads.

I have been pretty good about keeping my cool lately, meaning I have been patient. Last night, we went to a parade. I hate parades. I do. I'm sorry, but I have never like parades. Especially,when it is eleven degrees outside. However, as a parent, it is my duty to take my kids to a parade and not complain. I just hate candy being thrown at my face, I hate the traffic and the WAITING for the parade to start. We watched the parade from my car and my dad was with me and the kids. I think I only banged my head against the window four times. It was a cute parade, I guess.

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I did.

Stop. Hammer Time

When it comes to our personal relationships, I think we as humans get careless. I think this is especially true with today's social networking sites. We stop calling our favorite people and soon our calls turn into texts, and then those texts quit coming, and  soon, the only form of socializing we do is through social networking sites. Although, I credit social networking sites with putting me back in touch with people I had lost contact with previously, I also feel that it limits or discredits the friendships and relationships I have. I think social networking sites causes havoc (okay, havoc might be a little dramatic), but I do think these sites have the potential to (I don't know I can't think of a good word, so I will use the word shrink) "shrink" relationships. There is no tone to our communication. It makes saying important things like Congratulations or Happy Birthday easy or convenient, but it somewhere along the line, looses or disengages personal connections. People can use these sites to be passive aggressive, which at times makes me giggle. You know when people are using a social networking site to aggravate, slam, or reprimand another person. The posts will say something like "People should really keep their mouths shut when they are talking about my mother, because this is a small town, and what you say gets around!" or "Why do I even bother? No one cares anyways!" or "If you want to start with me, you will regret it, karma will slap you silly, you snot rocket!" or "Left out again, I guess I will eat a ham sandwich and watch Survivor, alone, again." or "Interesting what I just heard!" I guess people get their feelings hurt or they get angry, and instead of going to the human source, they hide behind their computers and let it rip. Like, take that! It's sometimes entertaining, sad, or irritating. However, we still need to work at our relationships with those we hold dear. I don't want to read a post on a social networking site and wonder, "Shit, is he or she talking about me? What did I do?" The other day Jesse posted "Stop..." on my timeline on Facebook. I thought he was mad at me, I thought, what in the hell does..."Stop..." mean? I thought of a million things I could have done, did I spend too much money? Was I cranky on the phone? I should know that my husband would never be passive aggressive on a social networking site, specifically when interacting to me, but I couldn't help but wonder. It wasn't until later I realized he was being silly, as he was flying MC. Hammer that day and he was just being funny. You know?, "Stop...Hammer Time!" He just forgot to add "Hammer Time!"

No Cell Phone for You!

In middle school, through, I don't know my early twenties, I went through this awful stage in which I needed everyone one to like me, I wanted everyone to love me. If someone didn't like me, whether I knew it as a fact or I suspected it, I would loose sleep over it, I would obsess over it. I KNOW I would not have survived being so young in today's society. I wouldn't have made it, I was not strong enough. I don't know for sure if the rate of suicide has dramatically increased since the early 90's/2000's. I haven't done enough research to be certain. I do know that it seems to be more recently, that I've heard/read about many young people taking their lives. I'm aware that the parents of these children (children who took their lives) have blamed the use of technology, a form of bullying that did not exist when I was growing up (Thank God). Keyton is nine, and he keeps asking for a cell phone. I am not a fan of Keyton getting one, to be honest it scares me. It's funny, because as I am typing this, I can hear Jesse and Keyton talking about how much it cost's to have a cellphone (they are sitting 10 feet away from me). I know that it's extremely important to talk to my children about what they will endure in the years to come. I strongly feel that it's important to prepare them for whatever cruelness awaits. I want them to have thick skin, but to be sensitive to others. I don't want them to follow the norm when the norm is to be cruel. I want my children to grow up with their own thoughts and dreams, and not to be discouraged by others. I want my children to be excepting and view humans as equals. I don't want my children to waist one second of their precious lives worried about what other's think about them. I pray that I prepare them enough to be the best they can be, to be compassionate, and strong.

Yesterday, someone asked me why I was so weird, and then today, I was asked why I was so weird again, by two different people in less than 24 hours! I still take some things personally, but I don't obsess over it (I know a few people would not agree with this statement). I'm goofy, I like to run not walk, I trip often, and I use a keyboard when it is missing a space bar (which by the way I got a sweet new one). Whether you like me or not, I am pretty sure I love you.

Scrooge of Halloween

I had an incredibly cranky day. I was just mad. I had no reason to be angry, but I was. This bitterness started on Saturday night, after I put my babies to bed. I got on Facebook (shocker) and saw what seemed to be a ton of pictures of people dressed up in their Halloween costumes, having SO MUCH fun. I guess, I should be happy that other people are having a happy ole' time-but I was sitting all alone, on a Saturday night thinking to myself, "Sure have fun--you Happy Halloween people, drink your yummy beer or whatever and have fun." As I was feeling sorry for myself, for probably the world's dumbest reason ever, I had a flash back of a Halloween party I attended in 2000. This would make me 19. I was Micky Mouse---I was one drunk Micky Mouse. People who attended that party, occasionally bring up this party to me. I went all out for this party. I borrowed a costume from a friend, who really bought some fantastic costumes. There was a Halloween dance I attended. I had the whole outfit, from the big (gigantic) Mickey Mouse ears, big white gloves, fluffy yellow shoes, black tights, red shorts, and suspenders.  I had a blue camera I was taking pictures with, back when we still used film, which I had worked hard for and I lost my camera that night. I would suspect that the pictures were entertaining. I can't tell you any stories about that night when I was Micky Mouse, because I can't remember them.Which, sort of made me appreciate the fact that I was not anywhere, making a ginormous fool of myself at that moment. Anyways, people are in the spirit of Halloween. I have been a Scrooge, the Scrooge of Halloween. With the up-coming election, Owen having been sick, and my husband working, I'm not in the most jolly mood. I am going to wake up tomorrow and try my hardest to be a Happy Halloween Woman. Keyton is a scary werewolf, Hal is Wonder Woman, and Owen is Cookie Monster. How can I not have fun with that combination? I can't.

Sometimes, when I get angry with sobriety, I have flashbacks of using or I have nightmares where I'm using, hence the Mickey Mouse flashback. Flashbacks are funny,scary,appalling, and surprising. I'm needing some positive energy. I don't always no how to go about it--ridding myself of negativity. I pray. I talk to friends and family. I try to think about how blessed I have been and am. But, as humans, I think we are entitled to feel however we want/need to at certain times. I can't walk around thinking I should be happy, because of A, B, and C. If I'm not feeling happy, making myself feel badly about not being happy, only makes me feel more anxious or even guilty. So now, that I admit I am having an angry moment, I feel better...a little. I will go watch "The Office" now and laugh and fall asleep feeling better and wake up a Happy Halloween Woman (my costume for tomorrow).

Basketball and Cats.

These last few days, I have been trying to talk Keyton into playing basketball instead of hockey. I have tried different tactics, including telling Keyton that Williston bought brand new basketballs that bounce higher than any other town's basketballs. It's not that I don't like hockey, I just like sitting in warm gymnasiums. And lets face it, there is a lot of protective gear that hockey players must put on, and the gear does not smell good. My dad played basketball when he was in high school. According to what people have told me, my father was a great ball player. I played basketball a little also. I was fast, but my height and attention span were short. When I was in the sixth grade, my mom was attending college in Dickinson, which meant that she and my brother lived there, and I stayed with my dad. I was responsible for getting myself up in the mornings and nine times out of ten, I forgot my inside shoes (in the winter) and I had to wear my snow boots all day, including to basketball after school. My dad would come to my basketball games after work and he would spy me running (well according to him, I would be frolicking) down the court in my snow boots. Now, as I am writing this, I am surprised my coach would let me play basketball in my snow boots. Anyways, I got an awful case of athletes foot that year (I have not had it since, but I do know athletes foot is not pleasant). I guess I better prepare myself for another season of hockey.

Hal wants a cat. I have an unpleasant memory that involves a cat. This memory includes hair and balls. Now that may sound strange, sure it does, but I had a cat as a child, who wore a collar with little ball shaped bells attached to it. One night, while I was sleeping the cat, named Ice ( she was all white) was sleeping with me and somehow, my hair got tangled in Ice's collar between the bells/balls, I mean really tangled, and Ice was hissing and scratching my face. Ice was one pissed off feline. I had to run to my parents room with a cat on top of my head. It was awfully scary.My dad had to free me from the cat's claws. I wouldn't be happy if I was stuck to some one's head either, but it was an unpleasant experience. And I don't want another cat.