Welcome to my first "Thirteen" posting!
Thirteen Positive Random Things about This Week
1. I had my six month review at work, and "passed" with flying colors! Yeah me! Also got a merit increase, which is nice and appreciated.
2. Also got the okay to go to my first play therapy conference in the middle of September! Very excited to start in on my certification process.
3. First choir rehearsal of the 2012-13 season.
4. First choir potluck of the year...someone made a fabulous Dorito salad that this gluten-free girl could eat, and eat I did!
5. My BFF, my dog Lucy...stuck by my side like glue the whole time I've been sick and in bed.
6. My home has multiple TVs, rooms, etc., so watching the RNC has not been a matter of being a captive audience.
7. Lavender oil in a hot bath is relaxing aromatherapy for a sore body. I love you, Aura Cacia!
8. Cecilia makes delicious and healing chicken soup.
9. I stood up for myself when I was upset about something and not getting the support I needed and deserved.
10. I have an air-conditioned home, which was a blessing with 95 degree temps and me not feeling well.
11. Gluten-free vegan cupcakes rock my world! Thank you, Wheatsfield Cooperative!
12. I don't live in Louisiana or Mississippi.
13. After one day back at work, I'll have a 3-day weekend in which to recover even more.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Remember Me? I'm September (tapping on my shoulder)
September used to be kind of a cool month, in my book. My birthday, football, fall temperatures---great stuff. Four years ago, September became a nightmare, and I haven't really shaken it since then.
See, my father died four years ago, three days before my birthday. It was a sudden and shocking death. I mean, he'd had a heart attack four months prior, but had been doing well since then. In fact, I'd just seen him over Labor Day weekend, and for the most part all was fine. Had a great time out at the cabin near Plainfield with all of the family together.
Then he went missing while out fishing a few weeks later. He just didn't come home. Search parties went out. There were dogs out trying to find Dad. The next morning the helicopters were firing up and they finally found him, in the Cedar. We were all so numb and in shock that quite honestly I didn't cry for a month. We just took care of what we had to do, honored Dad as he deserved, and tried to go forward.
I bottled things for a long time, not wanting to upset anyone, and went through bad bouts of depression, which were aggravated by seasonal affective disorder. God, what an ugly trick to play: coinciding Dad's death with shorter days and less sunshine. Well played.
Every time I think that the sadness is finally gone, it taps me on the shoulder and reminds me that it's still very much there. Of all the damned things, I about lost it in a CPR class today. It was my first recertification since dad's death, and I didn't even put one thought into how it might affect me, much less that it would affect me at ALL.
I could not stop the tears from falling down my face, watching the video about heart attack symptoms, thinking of what pain Dad had to go through. It's bothering me NOW, writing this. I felt on the edge of bawling my head off, the whole loud sobbing thing, and thought about leaving the training and trying again another time.
Then I said (to myself), Buck UP. YOU are Tim Shea's daughter, and you will STAY and FACE this, no matter how much it hurts, because you are strong. And maybe, you'll save someone's life someday and spare them the pain.
So I did it. And I hope you will too. It takes so little to learn and get certified in CPR. Please consider it.
So "September" arrived a few days early this year. I'm not going to bottle it anymore. I'm going to weep and grieve. Maybe that's what September is for, for now. But I'm also going to try to find ways to take good care of myself, as well as ways to honor my father.
See, my father died four years ago, three days before my birthday. It was a sudden and shocking death. I mean, he'd had a heart attack four months prior, but had been doing well since then. In fact, I'd just seen him over Labor Day weekend, and for the most part all was fine. Had a great time out at the cabin near Plainfield with all of the family together.
Then he went missing while out fishing a few weeks later. He just didn't come home. Search parties went out. There were dogs out trying to find Dad. The next morning the helicopters were firing up and they finally found him, in the Cedar. We were all so numb and in shock that quite honestly I didn't cry for a month. We just took care of what we had to do, honored Dad as he deserved, and tried to go forward.
I bottled things for a long time, not wanting to upset anyone, and went through bad bouts of depression, which were aggravated by seasonal affective disorder. God, what an ugly trick to play: coinciding Dad's death with shorter days and less sunshine. Well played.
Every time I think that the sadness is finally gone, it taps me on the shoulder and reminds me that it's still very much there. Of all the damned things, I about lost it in a CPR class today. It was my first recertification since dad's death, and I didn't even put one thought into how it might affect me, much less that it would affect me at ALL.
I could not stop the tears from falling down my face, watching the video about heart attack symptoms, thinking of what pain Dad had to go through. It's bothering me NOW, writing this. I felt on the edge of bawling my head off, the whole loud sobbing thing, and thought about leaving the training and trying again another time.
Then I said (to myself), Buck UP. YOU are Tim Shea's daughter, and you will STAY and FACE this, no matter how much it hurts, because you are strong. And maybe, you'll save someone's life someday and spare them the pain.
So I did it. And I hope you will too. It takes so little to learn and get certified in CPR. Please consider it.
So "September" arrived a few days early this year. I'm not going to bottle it anymore. I'm going to weep and grieve. Maybe that's what September is for, for now. But I'm also going to try to find ways to take good care of myself, as well as ways to honor my father.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
A Room of One's Own
I'm finally creating the haven I've always wanted, in my own home this time. The sunroom is officially mine, and I'm making a craft-yoga-reading-sewing-dreaming space all my own!
It's the smallest room in the house, but it's perfect. Surrounded by windows on three sides, it's sunny and breezy. I'm painting it a creamy butter color, with a sky blue ceiling. Not sure about curtains...certainly nothing that will block all of that gorgeous light and air. Bamboo shades, or maybe some very sheer, floaty curtains...haven't decided. The room overlooks what will be the patio and gardens in the backyard.
I've already moved all of my artsy creative books in there, plus my craft table and file. I have a TV in there, but only for yoga DVDs and to tune in music. A favorite white chair I've had since college days is in there too. I scoured Goodwill the other day and found the perfect pillows to go with it, plus a meditation cushion, on the cheap (my favorite way!). I'm going to put a plant in there too...I want something living and breathing in there besides me...and I found a pot that just summed up the kind of color I'm looking for in there.
This room will have all of my favorite colors surrounding me....greens and watery blues, lavender, buttercream...and all of my favorite soft textures. This room is ME!!!
It's the smallest room in the house, but it's perfect. Surrounded by windows on three sides, it's sunny and breezy. I'm painting it a creamy butter color, with a sky blue ceiling. Not sure about curtains...certainly nothing that will block all of that gorgeous light and air. Bamboo shades, or maybe some very sheer, floaty curtains...haven't decided. The room overlooks what will be the patio and gardens in the backyard.
I've already moved all of my artsy creative books in there, plus my craft table and file. I have a TV in there, but only for yoga DVDs and to tune in music. A favorite white chair I've had since college days is in there too. I scoured Goodwill the other day and found the perfect pillows to go with it, plus a meditation cushion, on the cheap (my favorite way!). I'm going to put a plant in there too...I want something living and breathing in there besides me...and I found a pot that just summed up the kind of color I'm looking for in there.
This room will have all of my favorite colors surrounding me....greens and watery blues, lavender, buttercream...and all of my favorite soft textures. This room is ME!!!
Saturday, July 14, 2012
I'm Not Kidding
I'm sure there are folks out there who go online and get ordained as a big joke. You know, ha ha, call me Monsignor Bucky. That kind of thing.
Well, for a number of years I had been curious about becoming a non-denominational officiant, and I was as serious as could be. I loved the idea of working with families and couples to create meaningful ceremonies and rituals to mark passages in their lives. I am Christian, but I am very appreciative of diversity in all ways, and liked the idea of honoring that by serving people in this way.
Our good friend Ron's wedding this week sealed it for me. They brought in an officiant to marry them in a very simple ceremony at their home, and it was lovely in how it was personalized to them and their family they were blending. The minister was very nice, but honestly, I thought I could have done it better.
So.
I did it. I took the plunge. And I truly felt called to do it.
I have very strong ideas of how I want to go about this. I do NOT want to be called at the last minute to marry someone I've never met. I want to have time to know the couple, to talk about what has led them to choose to marry each other or baptize their child or ask me to lead a funeral for their loved one. I want to work with them to create a ceremony that will make a memory for a lifetime. I'm also a licensed marital and family therapist, and have considered offering some premarital counseling sessions prior to marriages. When I was a grad student, I interned at a Catholic church, offering premarital counseling, and really enjoyed it.
I'm not jumping headfirst into this. It took years of thought and prayer to make the decision to go forward. It follows that I will think how I go forward from here just as carefully, insofar as how to make my services known, etc.
So...what do you think?
Well, for a number of years I had been curious about becoming a non-denominational officiant, and I was as serious as could be. I loved the idea of working with families and couples to create meaningful ceremonies and rituals to mark passages in their lives. I am Christian, but I am very appreciative of diversity in all ways, and liked the idea of honoring that by serving people in this way.
Our good friend Ron's wedding this week sealed it for me. They brought in an officiant to marry them in a very simple ceremony at their home, and it was lovely in how it was personalized to them and their family they were blending. The minister was very nice, but honestly, I thought I could have done it better.
So.
I did it. I took the plunge. And I truly felt called to do it.
I have very strong ideas of how I want to go about this. I do NOT want to be called at the last minute to marry someone I've never met. I want to have time to know the couple, to talk about what has led them to choose to marry each other or baptize their child or ask me to lead a funeral for their loved one. I want to work with them to create a ceremony that will make a memory for a lifetime. I'm also a licensed marital and family therapist, and have considered offering some premarital counseling sessions prior to marriages. When I was a grad student, I interned at a Catholic church, offering premarital counseling, and really enjoyed it.
I'm not jumping headfirst into this. It took years of thought and prayer to make the decision to go forward. It follows that I will think how I go forward from here just as carefully, insofar as how to make my services known, etc.
So...what do you think?
Friday, July 13, 2012
Jiminy Cricket says F You!!!!
If I have to hear the term "Pinocchios" one more time, in reference to comments made by political campaigns (and ratings of the truthfulness of said comments):
I. WILL. SCREEEEEAMMM!!!!
Fiscal Feast or Famine
I seem to have two extremes where money and spending are concerned.
I have an extremely responsible side. Perhaps responsible to the point of miserliness. Sometimes this can be referred to as penny-wise and pound foolish. For example, I will do things such as not have enough clothing or not take care of something that really needs to be tended to for fear of spending money.
The other side of this is the little things spendaholic. I don't go on extravagant sprees for high-end items. I agonize for a long time before purchasing expensive things. Nope, this is more of the I'm in Target and I need 3 items mentality. But while I'm here browsing, man, this would be awesome in my therapy room, and I'd really like a new lipstick, and oh boy, those boots are HOT! And before you know it, I've spent $100 without even realizing it.
And I'm great at rationalizing it. 'Cause I've got a new therapy office that rocks and I need some things; and lipstick is about my only makeup I can wear much of; and well, I'd been looking for some brown boots that fit for a LOOOONG time and these were so comfy and fashionable (they really were!).
Having Target a block from my office is such a BAD thing!
A few sprees like that, and I'm not broke, but I'm taking money away from paying down debt quicker...or making improvements on my home that last a heckuva lot longer than that lipstick.
I need to strike a balance between deprivation and discipline.
I have an extremely responsible side. Perhaps responsible to the point of miserliness. Sometimes this can be referred to as penny-wise and pound foolish. For example, I will do things such as not have enough clothing or not take care of something that really needs to be tended to for fear of spending money.
The other side of this is the little things spendaholic. I don't go on extravagant sprees for high-end items. I agonize for a long time before purchasing expensive things. Nope, this is more of the I'm in Target and I need 3 items mentality. But while I'm here browsing, man, this would be awesome in my therapy room, and I'd really like a new lipstick, and oh boy, those boots are HOT! And before you know it, I've spent $100 without even realizing it.
And I'm great at rationalizing it. 'Cause I've got a new therapy office that rocks and I need some things; and lipstick is about my only makeup I can wear much of; and well, I'd been looking for some brown boots that fit for a LOOOONG time and these were so comfy and fashionable (they really were!).
Having Target a block from my office is such a BAD thing!
A few sprees like that, and I'm not broke, but I'm taking money away from paying down debt quicker...or making improvements on my home that last a heckuva lot longer than that lipstick.
I need to strike a balance between deprivation and discipline.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Thinking out loud
I don't know how upset I should be about something. Boy, does that sound weird. Ha, I usually know exactly how pissed I simply am about things!
This is a little different.
Okay, my beloved and I knew from the beginning that we perched ourselves on very opposite sides of the political fence. He's a staunch, lifelong Republican. I'm......decidedly NOT. I was a card-carrying member of NOW in college, and marched for peace, choice and whatever else there was to march for back then (good music and cold beer at the end). We've generally managed to keep a truce state going, relying on a few political common grounds to tamp down the occasional flames. (And we really love each other, so that helps even more.)
I'm not as politically active as I used to be. My husband, however, is consumed by it. He's the county chair for his party, watches Glenn Beck every day at 4pm, and so on and so forth. He has got it in his head that because he is county chair and because I'm really not that politically active, I should not have any right to place signs for Democrat (or otherwise) candidates in our yard. In fact, in one heated exchange, he threatened to tear up anything I put out there. Hmmm.
Now, I told him from the beginning of our relationship that I would do nothing to publicly embarrass him, ever. Does this qualify? I mean, I think I had things like standing on top of a table at his overpriced chicken dinner and fancy speechifying events and shouting "Socialized Medicine!" in mind when I made that vow. Is a sign all that bad, really?
Maybe it's the disrespect for my right as an individual to proclaim my views that's bugging me. I don't know. I mean, this is by no means a relationship dealbreaker. But it does give one pause. And the desire to shop for bumper stickers.
This is a little different.
Okay, my beloved and I knew from the beginning that we perched ourselves on very opposite sides of the political fence. He's a staunch, lifelong Republican. I'm......decidedly NOT. I was a card-carrying member of NOW in college, and marched for peace, choice and whatever else there was to march for back then (good music and cold beer at the end). We've generally managed to keep a truce state going, relying on a few political common grounds to tamp down the occasional flames. (And we really love each other, so that helps even more.)
I'm not as politically active as I used to be. My husband, however, is consumed by it. He's the county chair for his party, watches Glenn Beck every day at 4pm, and so on and so forth. He has got it in his head that because he is county chair and because I'm really not that politically active, I should not have any right to place signs for Democrat (or otherwise) candidates in our yard. In fact, in one heated exchange, he threatened to tear up anything I put out there. Hmmm.
Now, I told him from the beginning of our relationship that I would do nothing to publicly embarrass him, ever. Does this qualify? I mean, I think I had things like standing on top of a table at his overpriced chicken dinner and fancy speechifying events and shouting "Socialized Medicine!" in mind when I made that vow. Is a sign all that bad, really?
Maybe it's the disrespect for my right as an individual to proclaim my views that's bugging me. I don't know. I mean, this is by no means a relationship dealbreaker. But it does give one pause. And the desire to shop for bumper stickers.
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