Sunday, December 28, 2014

Knitting to Untangle the Snags in Life

This has been an exhausting winter break. 48s sandwiching the round robin of Christmas Eve Day, with a mandate thrown in on our shopping day. Sick little muppets and pup with Downs coming to join our pack - and all the preparation that comes with that! Cleaning rooms and baking cookies. Controversial decisions leading to my FF turning in his bunkers for bullet proof.

I needed something mindless. Reading can only happen when the muppets are asleep or not in the house. (That is a new thing since my hormone depletion.) Paperwork - yeah, I need to get to that, but have that scheduled for later in the week.  I needed something to do that allows me to unplug and disconnect, but still be around the muppets. 
O's current location as I type.

So, yesterday I ran to the craft store and grabbed some #9 knitting needs and some yarn and was all set to sit down with YouTube. Like a good member of the 21st century, I announced it on FB and one of my amazing friends from work invited the girls and me over for a lesson.  I think I was more polite than her usual EBD crew, but probably significantly more clueless. It was a nice break in this 2nd 48. Until O started complaining of a headache....and was hot to the touch. Never good.  So we rushed home.

And then I goofed up and started over.
I can cast on like nobody's business. Throw in that 2nd needle and it is like I have never used my hands a day in my life...and I end up pulling it all off. Hence the proficient level of casting on. 

My FF kinda snickered and asked what brought this on. Once we chatted he agreed.

I will never be my grandmother. I can see/hear her sitting at the kitchen table knitting away like it was nobody's business, while carrying on a conversation, making dinner and watching a Shirley Temple movie.  That will never be me. My damaged brain has stolen much of my fine motor skills from me, the beautiful baby blankets will never be coming from me. I will be more of a scarf and washcloth kinda gal...and I am okay with that.

I just want something to distract my mind. Distract my mind so I don't hear the buzz of social media causing concern or the cliche Dog with a Blog story lines. But, at the same time, I can look up and enjoy the giggles of my muppets. 



So, we'll see how this goes.

Monday, December 22, 2014

Waiting Through the Fear

Today is not a Green shift. There was no trade on. There was no red flu. And yet my FF is not here. I finished up the Christmas shopping by myself, which was not in the plans. I continue the cookies alone.  My FF and I were supposed to be doing that. We were supposed to enjoy this day as mom and dad, as husband and wife.  And yet he is not here. I am wrapping the presents he said he would tend to, simply because it gives me something to focus on. Lord knows social and main stream media were not leaving me be.

He is on lock down - last I heard - at the firehouse.  No shopping. No gas. They are on lock down. 

And I am TERRIFIED that he won't be coming home. 

Fires do not scare me, I completely trust his training and his company. Stray bullets make me uncomfortable, but I don't have nightmares about them. 

Mobs. Anger. Riots. SCARE THE HELL OUT OF ME! 


Two police officers were just shot and killed. NYPD, my heart bleeds for you. I literally have been sleeping my my FDNY t-shirt trying to send my love to New York.

I am angry at my community. My kids could die and there would be no public out cry. 21 of my kids have died - TWENTY-ONE - through violence or their own hands.  And where was all this attention. They were young and black. THEIR LIVES MATTERED. And yet, there was no outcry. 

I KNOW that our mental health needs are HUGE. I know that there is a SIGNIFICANT portion of our homeless population that is need of mental health attention. I taught psych last year and three weeks dedicated to the mental health needs of OUR homeless population. I KNOW we are tending to them properly. 

But, that does not mean that we as spouses of first responders need to worry about John Q. Public walks up to one of our own and kills them for no reason other the fact that they are public servants. 

Pigs.

Public demands for their heads on pikes. Did they do anything? Do they not deserve to come back home to their families? 

A life for a life? Someone sent me a nasty gram quoting good old Hammurabi. Bad move. YOU  FORGOT I AM A HISTORY TEACHER! I teach that Code in GREAT detail. But, if you are going to quote that and say we need to go back to it, please realize that there are HUGE class and gender differences that speak in direct CONTRAST to what this mission should be.

Life matters.

All of them.

They should ALL matter to ALL of us.

His life matters to me. He is my sun and my moon. He is my love. And I want him to come home safe to me.


I pulled out that DAMN NOTEBOOK, just in case. I don't want to have to look for it. But, WHY should I have to? Why should I not trust the people of my city to treat him with the same compassion and peace that he treats so many of them with, every 48 hours. 

Let him come home, to me.  To his Muppets.

I wait...

Hug those FFs tight. Nothing is promised.



Thursday, December 11, 2014

Proud Momma

Just a quick moment to brag.  Sorry to those of you on Facebook with me, but I get to gush.

My boys are gaining some notice, aside from me for not having their room cleaned, and it is kinda cool to see it happen.  



Our oldest is at the high school I teach at. It was a drama filled decision, but one that has suited him quite well. After the first quarter grades were posted, he's #1 in his class.  Now, I realize that this is not spring of his senior year, but the foundation is definitely in place during this formative period and I think this is an amazing start. He is also being honored with an award this evening by the Milwaukee Urban League. I'll have pictures from that event after tonight.  It is nice that the world sees him as an amazing kid and it is not just me seeing it through my rose colored momma goggles.

Our youngest son is making the middle school rite of passage DC trip this spring.  He has been given the honor of laying a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknowns through an essay that wrote. He worked on that, draft after draft. He has also been inducted into the National Junior Forensic League honor society for his performances this season in debate.

Some days it is nice that things that I think are totally insane all around me, are actually falling into place quite nicely. Nice to know I am doing something right, even though it is the week before Christmas break and the whole world seems insane.

My FF is home with a sick girl. Here's where I am oh so grateful for this schedule. Hugs those FFs, they are amazing to have around.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Control Freak

I am a control freak.

No question about it.  I am working on, but I am unsuccessful as of yet.

My Christmas tree was a prime example. Since the kids have their own, I didn't let them help me very much.  And I undid what they decorated.

I must have order in my kingdom. Order and balance and complimentary colors.

The kids have their own tree, colored lights, character ornaments, handmade loveliness.

And now our oldest is going back through and redecorating what the little muppets took so much joy in decorating.

Kids learn what they see, regardless of what you preach.

Same is true for my interactions with adults. I am a control freak. I will indeed take over just so things get done perfectly.

I must have order in my kingdom.

I have a student teacher.  Older than the traditional student teacher, but very much a baby in their own right.  And the university that sent from has created a year-long student teaching program. This semester is referred to as "student teaching lite".

I HATE IT!

I must have order in my kingdom.

This diet student teaching simply creates one more prep for me, with no time for it. In fact, working with this baby teacher takes away my prep period.  You know, the one I use to grade, make copies, place phone calls to parents, plan, etc.

Because, you know, I have SOOOOO much time at home to do this.

It is killing me to turn my class over to my baby teacher. I tried to hide in another classroom to just let him teach, but I could hear my kids.

There was no order in my kingdom.  There was chaos and profanity.  And as I walked by to peek, my baby teacher was looking lost.

I know that there is growth. I know that there needs to be practice, but these are my babies.

And I am a control freak,

Wish me luck and patience. This is my area of personal growth needs.

I must have order in my kingdom.

On much more sorrowful note, please send your thoughts and prayers to Philly. Firefighter Joyce Craig Lewis lost her life in the Line of Duty.  Kiss those firefighters of yours. Tomorrow is never promised. Peace.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Life

Life happens. And you make choices. 

This blog got me through some rough points in my life - suddenly finding myself married to a firefighter, mainly. 

But, when life gets insane, I sadly tossed it to the side. 

I started to share all of the issues of my oh so routine surgery with this post.  I got the school year started and football and Infinite Campus and both girls in judo...and I was back in the hospital for a week. I missed Homecoming. I wasn't feeling right. Earlier in the week, I started bleeding.  Like heavy period bleeding.  Ummmm, yeah, all my lady parts were removed. After a CT scan, they found a vaginal fistula.  The more I researched, the more I realized no one really sees those. It is mostly found in 3rd World Countries and in older women. I was referred to a specialist. We were going to do a few more scans and decide if we were going to go with bowel rest - no food for three months - or a quite invasive surgery to repair the breech, That weekend was Homecoming.  J was on shift the night before and I was sicker than a dog. He went to the game...I called and made him come home. We went to the ER, were immediately sent to a room and I was admitted faster than I have ever seen before. The head of the department took my case and said he had never seen anything like this.  I was going septic. And still puking my guts out - they restricted my zofran.

Lovely nail polish thanks to
the even lovely Fire Wife Elly.
A few days into my stay, we did an NG tube, they decided there was a blockage. THAT SUCKED A$$! My gag reflex is so strong and you can't puke with an NG tube.  They got the blockage and were planning to leave it in for 2-3 days. Yeah, I made them take it out after 3 hours. Either they removed it, or I would. It was that simple. Fire Wife Elly was amazing and drove up for a few of those days, and sadly had to witness that horrible experience. She was amazing, I was not. 

After that god awful thing came out, I had one more violent bout with puking my guts out and miraculously, I felt human. I could walk the halls and handle the smell of food, without having to dash back. Clearly, the obstruction was a huge issue. 

A few more days in the hospital, including a fluoroscopy that had the residents running in to watch like any episode of Grey's Anatomy, without the viewing gallery, so they were all up close and personal with my nether regions.  If I had any modesty left after the babies, it was gone with this test. I realize that this test is NEVER seen in MDC, but holy crap. 

If you can picture the Ben Stein's character in Ferris Bueller, that was the doc doing this test. It was humourous. 

The fricking TEAM of specialist that had formed to deal with my crisis that no one could explain, suddenly found themselves with a mystery. The fistula that was clear as day - even my completely untrained eyes could see it  - had resolved. With no rhyme or reason.  I have my own thoughts, but that is for another day.  Suddenly, I was coming home.

This scared my FF, like no other issue before.  I have nearly died bringing three of the kids into the world.  But I think the docs saying that I was septic and they didn't think they would get me back...after the SNAFU with my surgery...after the 56 PEs...was more than he could really handle. He could have lost me several times over this summer/fall. Luckily, I am far too stubborn to go in such a mundane fashion.  We worry so much about them coming home, this time the shoe was on the other foot. Tomorrow is not a guarantee for any of us.

But, I have not been the same. I sleep...a lot. So not like me. I get tired so easily. I have never experienced this. 

The worst part of this - timing.  Murphy was clearly paying attention. Two days after I was admitted, my FF started a long term subbing position for a teacher on maternity leave.  Two + months of him not only on shift - but also teaching. That left me really having to carry the load at home, at a time when I could barely hold my head up after 4pm. Football, chess, debate, homework, church - really all falling in my lap at a time when I really needed to not be the strong firewife who takes on the world. 

And, sadly, THtH was neglected. I have some posts that I really need to get up.  I will get this bad girl up and running again.  I haven't abandoned her. 

Thanks for checking in.  For those of you who have kept me company through all of this, thanks for all your love, support and prayers. 

Love on those firefighters. Tomorrow is never promised.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Balance

I can tell already I will have to relearn what Balance is.

I missed a family party and tried to spend the better part of two whole days getting lessons done, aligning standards, now that we actually some to work with.  (In the case of my AP classes, I have MORE than enough standards to work with...10 pages for two preps...but, I digress.)

My FF took care of school supplies and he took the kids out of the house for me.  He is awesome.  And, he bought me a back-to-school gift...to help me shake the on-coming blues...

Tomorrow, he is taking "back to school" pictures for me so I can go in early and make my last minute copies, move maps that need to be hung, attach fabric to a table, creating a convenient hidey place for my mess, etc.  

He will also help me work through my guilt.  

I am always there for the kids' first day.  I always take the kids' pictures.  

And instead, he will do that for me.

Not unlike what I do for him when he is on shift on those most amazing days.

I guess this is a taste of my own medicine. 

He gets the extra responsibilities, but he also gets to be part of those memories that the kids  will take with them into the world.  And I will be absent from those pictures.  I will be at work. 

There are many pictures of me with
the Muppets while he's on shift...
Perhaps, it is good that my classroom needs so much attention this year.  It is a necessary reminder of all the holidays he misses without saying a word. There is that sacrifice.  He is absent from so many of those memories...or he is on ooVoo.  I allow myself to feel resentment during those times, but I forget how much sacrifice comes with that as well.

I need to balance my time - work cannot consume me.  But, I also have to balance my frustration over the solo parenting moments, with the understanding that he is not only missing from them...but also truly missing them.

Life is all about balance.

Everything in moderation.

Monday, September 1, 2014

A FireWife has An Epic Afternoon - with No Muppets

Well, truth and accuracy requires an addendum that reads, ALMOST no Muppets.  N is home, he has football practice that does not sync up nicely with my hubby's family picnic time.  But, being the teenager that he is, I am alone, for all intents and purposes.  

And this time of no muppets and no meetings and no revolving door on my classroom (My FF can vouch for me - I have an invisible revolving door in my classroom.  Everyone knows it is there, even though you can't see it.) allows me to actually work. I tried working yesterday, it was a shift day.  I can tell you that very little got done. 

So, I am off to organize my student teacher/field worker's binder and my AP Binders and finish my lesson plan standard correlation and hopefully find my sanity out of this pile o'craziness. Notice the Scat Mat - so the polar bears don't stomp on my papers while defending me from the blowing winds on the other side of the window.

Enjoy your day.  Take a moment to think of those who fought for the 8 hour work days and child labor laws.  Regardless of where you stand on the issue of unions, you have benefited from those who fought the fights that Labor Day represents.

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Being a FireWife is So Not Epic

Epic

It is the word of the month in our house.  Things are either Epic or SO Not Epic.  There is no grey area.  There is no middle of the road.

And I feel that.

I am either Epic or SO Not Epic.

This month my FF has been gone more than he has been home.  There have been paybacks and days at the track and Hey, Could ya take this day for me 48s ALLLLLLL over the place.  

And I have been left to hold the fort down...while spending days in my classroom and nights learning how to breathe and handle these times. <sigh> 

I get something done and it seems so amazing and at that moment, I am Epic.  Whether it is in my classroom or with the kids or whatever.

Or, I feel like a complete failure.  We have not eaten as a family in forever.  I have been away from my kids more than I would like.  And when I have been home I have had SO much work to do, that I have been working while sitting in the same room or on the patio.  But not playing with them.

Or when my FF comes home after a 48 and a day at the track and fusses that house is messy.  

Or when my oldest has to ride his bike to and from football practice all week.

Or...

It seems like I am SO Not Epic more often than not.

And it SO sucks.

I would like much more boring events.  You know, just sitting around doing nothing. Just...being. 

I will get over this, I always do.  But, someone might want to tell the FireMan that the week of back to work for the FireMan when he has been gone more than he has been home MIGHT not be the best time to say, "Hey, what do ya think about me joining the IRL Safety Team?" if he has any hope for a supportive answer.  Someone MIGHT want to clue him in on timing.  Right now, I don't want to think about weeks of training in Indianapolis or the 4 race commitment (roughly 6 days per race) per season or the two 48s that would come from nearly every race. (That makes a minimum of eight extra 48s - not including his days at the Mile.)  Right now, I'd like to hold on to the last smidge of sanity that I seem to possess...while I prepare a binder for my SURPRISE Field Student who might be a Student Teacher, but is not sure...

Sigh...and two family gatherings this week.  

Custard will make it all better, right?  I am going to need a TON of Custard. 

Custard will make me Epic.  I know it will.

Won't it?


Thursday, August 28, 2014

A FireWife's Epic Failure as a Mother

Recently a friend of mine from college sent me a message on social media.  We talk all the time in comments and on each other's walls, but only rarely do we message each other.  If I may so bold to summarize her message, essentially she asked how in the world I was so put together with 4 kids and a firefighter that is gone so much.  I always seem to take things in stride. Whereas she, with three kids and a husband with a more traditional job, felt like she was always struggling to get by...especially when he is gone.

You would think that I would have been thrilled with such a compliment, but instead, I felt ashamed.  I am not put together.  I am a mess.  I have metl downs and yell more than I would like.  I am impatient and snippy when I feel overwhelmed and under supported.  I am stubborn and pigheaded when I feel that it was "someone else's job" to do something...and I refuse to do it. I am not perfect.  I am horribly flawed. 

Even as I am writing this blog, literally sitting down in my living room for the first time since 6:30am (It is 7:40pm...on a shift day.) I am sniping at my youngest in my head. Why, do you ask?  Because she is asking about the Packer game while I am trying to type this post.  Mind you.  Her face time with me has been VERY limited this week.  I have gone back to work.  I was at work from 6:30am until 3:30pm.  At Training Monday-Wednesday from 4pm-8pm. (Oh so IRONICALLY, it was training for teachers on relieving stress through breathing.) Today, I had the most stressful training for a gradebook that I have ever experienced...and got nothing done that I needed to get so I am ready on Tuesday.  From there I grabbed the three youngest muppets...the oldest was at football practice...having to bike because I was at work...and take D to my dad's so he could take her judo.  We ran to Target because my polar bears had NO food in the house, picked up N from practice twenty after seven.  And I am home.  

So, snippiness, driving through rush hour after dropping off D.  (Mind you, this is after driving nearly an hour to make the 25 minute drive there.) B and O were singing as loud as possibly and clapping, horribly off-beat, to And All the People Said Amen by Matt Maher.  And I snapped at them.

Yup.  Epic.  Failure.

I snapped at my kids because the Spirit moved them.  

Fail.

But, my stress level was stronger than I was.  

Excuses.

The people driving recklessly in the parking lot formerly known as I-94 and the two syllabi I have yet to finish writing and the picnics that we need to attend and host even though I am SO not ready for that first day and I have so much to do. I need to pick up fabric for a table in my room and my hubby has to help me mount my map bracket and I need make 200 copies of syllabi and print out rosters and...

Breathe.

I am missing that part.

And because I am missing that part, I am missing out on the joy that my people bring just because the song that moved their soul came on.  Because I have let life consume me.  I have given up control to stress and life is now controlling me.

So not a happy place for a control freak to find herself. 

I am going to leave you know.  As my muppets are enjoying the Packer game...and I am trying to set up my last prep in my grade book.  It only has 6 pages of standards.  And each standard needs to have 3 pieces of evidence. And...I am trying so hard not to be an epic failure.  I am a FireWife and I am Fire Strong. 

Just not today.

Monday, August 25, 2014

Epic Firewife Return to the Classroom

So, yesterday, I shared with you the chaos that comes with organization in education.  I must have my chaos organized. But, it is still chaos, none-the-less.

This week is not different. I go back tomorrow, to the "organization" week, which has nothing to do with getting organized in the grand scheme of things.  It has nothing to do with setting up the new year, but instead implementing the new student management system, learning the new best practices that are researched based and better than the years before, meeting the new staff, rah rah sis boom bah kinda stuff, but nothing really to do with actual ORGANIZATION of anything dealing with the kids. 

And where does that fall...on the back half of a 48, of course, in true firewife fashion.  BUT, it gets better... 

I have a 3 night training...that might be amazing or might be  the biggest waste of time.  I have very little literature on it, so I will let you know.  What that means is that B will miss his middle school youth group kick off tonight, D will miss her judo class tonight and N will have to ride his bike to and from football practice for three days.  And I have three 12 hour days to kick start the year.  


So, Wednesday, FF comes home, nope he is need at the Mile.  Thursday he is back on shift and so I will see him Friday for sure...and perhaps if my eyes are open Wednesday night.

INSANITY, but we'll get through this like we always so.  Now, if only I had a time machine and a sonic screwdriver...

Sunday, August 24, 2014

Back to School CHAOS

So, I have spent so much of the last two weeks in my classroom.  I think what happens is I wake up, shove some cereal in my face and head to my classroom for 10 hours.  No joke, no exaggeration. (so much for those over paid teacher theories, huh?  My first paycheck is 3 weeks away!)  I have unpacked and purged junk left behind my "new" classroom and organized and decorated and ...oh muh gosh.  But, I will be thrilled to have it all done.

We go back to work officially on Tuesday.  I will not have to spend my in class time decorating, but instead, planning.  I have 3 new preps this year.  One that I have never taught before and has only been taught by one teacher in our district and the other two I have not taught in 4 or 5 years.  It will all be great, but it will be so nice to just focus on the academics of it all.

So, please forgive me if I seem to be neglecting my blog, but there is a definite juggling act, especially as J continues his 48s to pay back his trades from all my hospital stays.

In the meantime, here's a view from my workplace...


Story
I have 2 cabinets and a drawer that are locked, with no keys to be found anywhere.  So, we took the 100 year-old lock out of an open closet and took it to a master locksmith and he made a key for me. I got the cabinet open - full of CRAP - and found a place to store part of my bibliophile addiction units, now to get plexiglass for the lower part of the glass door.  There is also a mystery cabinet - they are in a few rooms and NO ONE knows what they are for.  I was so excited to find out...but sadly it was much like Al Capone's vault, only worse...it did not open.  Something was broken off in the lock over the years. <sigh>


















This class is enormous compared to my tiny little science lab that forced my kids to play the role of sardines.  I started with 30 desks...and then we looked at my class list.  49

But, I thought 47 would suffice.  And my Bossman has assured me that I will be at least 10 down from that...hopefully.
Here was the first look at my new class...30 desks.
Here are alllllll the boxes, well some of the boxes and a CRAPload
of extra cabinets and furniture and a TV??
See ya..
I was bored during football and taking pictures...
truly what I do when bored.
My class is in the section that jets out
so far, hence the extra space. <3 <3


My epic poster!  I AM the Force, Unleashed!


First impressions are so important.  I start with my door... 

I got 47 desks, 2 teacher desks, a SmartBoard, some file cabinets and bookshelves...and I am almost there. The void in the corner of the chalkboards...waiting for maps to be moved from my science lab turned history class to fill it.

So, I guess, I'll finish up later this week...and give you a better tour.  But, this explains my absence.

Now...send your good juju my way...I am back to work on Tuesday.  My FF has a 48 starting tomorrow...after which he heads to the track and back to work the following day.  Meanwhile I have a 3 night conference and 3 days of beginning of the year PD/Staff Meetings/ I have soooooo much to get done...all while trying to get all the muppets where they need to good.  Wish me luck.

Happy Sunday.  Hug that FF...kiss your muppets as they head off to school...and send in sanity keepers.  C/O TOO Hot to Handle Insanity Week!

Peace...

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

I Found My Words

Robin Williams' death turned the world on its ear.  We will see this again, but every time we do, we look at these people and wonder, "How?"

They have the perfect life, with more money than they can spend in a life time. The world caters to them.  How can they not be happy?  So many lost talents. So many lost lives. How can that possibly be?

Even though there are so many lost souls that the media spends no time discussing, what this should tell us is that there is so much more TO be discussed.  We need to discuss that these rich and famous idols, are still people, with the same failings and dreams and hopes and demons that we all harbor.  We need to discuss that mental illness, like cancer and so many other horrible diseases does not care who you are, what you Klout rating is or how much money you make?  Poverty or wealth, depression, mental illness and suicide hit all areas.  It rears its ugly head, without prejudice or bias.  Some times it runs in families and sometimes the atrocities of life bring it out in the happiest of worlds.  Mental illness knows no color or gender or social class.  Even those who have all the services and treatment options that money can buy, still succumb to its evil grip.  There are families that are destroyed and hearts that are broken and lives torn to pieces because of mental illness. 


And like the other million bloggers out there that are writing about this, we all have opinions.  Don't glorify suicide, others will emulate.  How can you mourn someone you have never truly known? White privilege.  What about the thousands of kids we are losing on streets?  But we all need to remember is that it all these lives that are lost are valuable, significant and our instructors.  We can learn from all of these losses.  THAT is what they all have in common.  We can all learn.

I know you are all tired of my soap boxes, but too fricking bad. I am okay being the squeaky wheel.

Mental health is significant.  I have had kids attend my classes and then take their lives as soon as they left.  I have seen my husband so close to that point, where I thought I would be certain to lose him if I didn't keep my guard up.  I have seen alcohol destroy families.  I have seen those people try to fight for their loved ones, only to lose them to the streets. I have seen the scars left in the minds of public servants who stay strong while others have their world falling down around them...only to realize that those images just don't go away. So many mentally ill walk among us.  And there is such a stigma and prejudice.  So many judgements to be made. So many suffering in silence, thinking they are alone.  Thinking that no one understands.

Some of those immediate responses are merely human, when we see someone suffering. Makes no difference if they are homeless or schizophrenic or manic or whatever.  We are unsure how to proceed or react or simply begin.  Fear from someone you don't know. Voices you can't hear are everywhere.  However, the path you take after that initial, "What am I supposed to do know?" reaction, is no longer a reaction, it is a choice.  Saying Hi and smiling.  Carrying happy meal cards.  Asking how they are.  All possible choices.  Just show the people of the world that someone cares.  That everyone is important, regardless of the socio-economic status or baggage.  

Think of how many people wanted something from Robin Williams - a picture, an autograph, his time at a benefit.  How many people truly asked, "How are you?  Are you doing okay?"  You never want to let your immediate family know you are in pain, because that brings unnecessary pain to them.  We just don't know what he might have needed, nor will we ever.  

We need to make sure that we reach out to our friends, co-workers, neighbors and even strangers.  Sitting and just chatting might be the most powerful medicine there is.  I might not be a cure all, but it might make a difference.  Something so simple. 

Take care of the firefighters in your world.  Know who to contact, who to call when you see that things are not quite right.  Don't be afraid to confront them.  Don't be a afraid to reach out, even if it is to a complete stranger.  People might just amaze you.  

I have written about suicide and depression before.  I watched one of my closest friends work through her father's suicide, to make the world less dreadful for those left behind working with S.O.S - Survivors of Suicide.  I tried to help my kids at work muddle through the heartache losing a classmate and friend. I have often talked about my fears with my FF and so many others on the job.  Please don't hesitate to reach out to any of these resources.

Some of the red flags to look for...


Please don't be afraid to reach out. If you are hurting, a loved one or someone you have never met in the real world.


Good-bye Genie, you're free.

Peace.


Monday, August 11, 2014

Thanks for the Laughs


If you watch no other clip, watch this one from Mork and Mindy.







My words will never do justice.  

I can only imagine the monsters that lived in your world.  I can only hope that you are now at peace from their torment.  I can work to make sure others know there is always someone who will listen, even if they cannot grasp the depths of your despair.

RIP - Mork, you gave me an excuse to sit on my head and wear the most amazing 'spenders ever. Peace.

Sunday, August 10, 2014

A Time to Bite Your Tongue

...and a time to not.

I tend to stay out political discussions on this blog, as well as theological debates.  I have found that my views don't always sit well.  It often comes to a point where it causes a rift and I am truly trying to make my life about building bridges, regardless of where others stand on the other side.  

The Easter before last, my opinions and focus on social justice were formally called into question and I began to question where I stood.  Was I standing in the right side? Was I just causing another rift?  What direction should I be heading?  Not always a bad thing.  Questioning where you stand on thing, that is.  It is a healthy reflection, even if it is a bit uncomfortable.  I was in physical pain and a bit of a spiritual crossroads.  A new pope had JUST been chosen, the year of faith was well underway, my purple cast was a visual sign of the Lenten reflection that I was silently going through.  And then I got to mass.

Fr. Alejandro, my favorite Cuban Franciscan (who sadly will be assigned to an Australian parish this fall) focused his homily on this very topic.  Talk about a spiritual neon billboard!  His message was, yes, this is a year of faith, but perhaps we are too busy talking and verbally evangelizing.  What if instead of talking about what it right,  we just do what is right.  What if instead of passing judgement based on the rules, we focus on the one rule that reminds us to love.  Unconditionally, even if it is not warranted.  Now, understand, he calls himself Fr. Feelgood and I smile every time he refers to himself with such a title.  He clearly has a tendency to such dogma.  But, every single time, it makes me feel as though he is indeed speaking to me. 

From that moment, Pope Francis has only reinforced that in my head.  To which I fail, miserably.  All the time.  Kids drive me crazy and I snipe.  I question parents' parenting values.  I think things in my head that are less than loving.  Realize, I am not saying that I have mastered this, by any stretch of the imagination.  I suck at, truthfully.  But, it is the direction that I am moving toward, even if I get lost because Droid Siri doesn't like monsoon-like storms and I lose my way. (Real life reference that  I will save for another day.)  Imagine what the world would be like if we could remind ourselves of that 5 times a day.

Instead of hating, judging, condemning, whatever, changes need to be made.  What if instead we asked, "How can I help?"  Instead of passing judgement because people aren't doing what we feel to be prudent or reasonable we sit and talk.  You might be amazed at what people will share with you.  Do I need to work on this, duh. Yah.  More than you know.  

Our city is seeing kids shot far too regularly.  Our news talks about it, but realize it occurs far more than the news reports. We have amazing Meds and ED staff.  They have become amazingly skilled at keeping GSWs from becoming fatalities.  How many gang members do you talk to about their gang affiliation and they talk about that is not their gang, it is their family you are referring to.  WHAT DOES THAT SCREAM TO YOU??  These kids that we are judging and condemning as gang bangers are looking for love and acceptance.  The unquestioning, unending kind of love that families should provide.  


One of my fave quotes of all time.
J is sleeping off a LLLOOOOONNNNGGG night.  Insanity, much of it drug related.  How many heroin and meth overdoses does he see?  Far too many.  We all know that.  BUT WHY?  Why do people turn to drugs?  How often is it because reality if far too painful to take?  Physically and emotionally.  It is easier to escape the pain through drugs, than it is to actually face it or to fight it another day.  So much is personal choice.  I am not debating that.  But, what if they knew that there was a whole WORLD standing in their corner.  How many people would choose to send a text for help or support knowing that someone would answer it?  How many parents feel their hands are tied because they can't reach their kids?  How many spouses see the loves of their lives vanish into an addiction, but for fear and shame don't reach out for help?  How many kids have built walls because alcohol has drown their parents and they can't do it another time, they can't excuse the hateful comments that come from the V.O. and not the parental unit?  How many lives are taken because the world has told them they should not feel the way they do, look the way they do? How much anger is the immigration debate bringing out - the HATEFUL spewings remind be of the images taught in my Civil Rights unit. All of this easier  It is easier than facing judgement another day or living in fear of what change might bring.  What if we looked at the world through the lens love and compassion instead of fear and hate?  What if instead of putting ourselves up on a pedestal, telling the world how our way is the right way, we just did what we would hope someone would do for us?

Sorry for such a serious Weekend post, I am sleep deprived and had way too much time to think. However, perhaps we need to spend more time thinking, of  how we can make this world a better place, without passing judgement.  Instead of focusing on what we that makes us different, focus on our humanity that brings us all together.  Instead of focusing on who someone might love, focus on just being loving.  Instead of talking about what we don't like, focus on what is amazing and build up from there. At some point we have to make a decision to make this a better place as opposed to what we think is right or fair.  Cycles are perpetuating hate and anger and hunger and fear.  We must find away to break this spiraling pathways to hate or things will only get worse. The pursuit of happiness will become more of a myth of a bygone era. 


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