Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Strong Enough to Bend

But I do nothing upon myself, and yet I am my own executioner. ~ John Donne

We all know them. We might not always RECOGNIZE them, but we definitely know them.

They are the self sabotaging people. The ones that want to hurt us before we hurt them. Or the ones that place blame anywhere but in their courts in order to deflect any possible responsibility from landing themselves.

I don't ever want to be that person. Regardless of my actions or feelings, I hope I take responsibility for them - right or wrong. And I certainly don't intend to ever take my friendships for granted and treat others as though they must accept all blame in every situation. And I will not go on the attack and treat a friend with disrespect and hate when I am feeling out of control of my own world.

That's not always been the case. I'm sure I blamed my insecurities and failures on others when I was younger. Didn't we all? The saying is true that maturity is wasted on the aged. ha! I could have used some of my self-instructed psychosomatic advice years and years ago.

You are probably wondering what has driven me pontificate about self sabotagers, right?

Well, it's a really long story. And it would bore you to tears because it's just a bunch of crap that isn't worth rehashing. But I can sum it up like this:

Once upon a time, there was a friend who befriended someone. And that someone gained a spot in her "inner circle" - which by the way is fairly small. Once in the inner circle, that someone didn't really know how to be there. Someone was self absorbed, somewhat demanding and definitely an energy sucker, but the friend was convinced that everyone needs to be someone to somebody. (haha)  And when that someone finally pushed the friend to the point that she stood up for herself and said she was frustrated, that someone tried to make her the bad guy. And said hurtful things for no reason. 

That's vague, I know. But I bet you could plug in your name and someone else's name to recreate this exact story, couldn't you? There's no need to add all the nitty gritty details as those few sentences describe so many situations and friendships. How sad! Blah! What a waste of friendship.

There are just people out there that don't know how to handle relationships. And I really think they are afraid of them. They think they are getting to close to someone or they think they might have to consider someone else's feelings in a situation. Or the amount of self loathing has just been piled so high that they can't possibly imagine that a friend will be there through thick or thin. So they just get really nasty and try to push as hard as they can....make it super thick and terribly thin. 

Then those someones just sit back and wait to see what will happen. They make sure they do everything they can to keep from getting hurt or getting "dropped." 

It's a shame really. And something I don't altogether understand. 

The irony is that someone didn't count on a friend like me. One that won't just walk away.

Push as hard as you can.

In the words of Tanya Tucker, I'm "strong enough to bend." (You're welcome for the earworm....sing it with me... haha)

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Just a few things on my mind..

Just a few randoms for you on this Sunday evening....

You have no idea how true this is until you have a teenager...
And this is painfully true for too many people.

I loved this quote. I should remember this more often....especially when I feel like my courage is failing. It happens more than you might think...

 I love this. Everyone tries to make Christians out to be the bad guys. But REAL Christians know that the church is a hospital for sinners...and no one is perfect.

Hilarious. :)

Good advice..

Gulp. It's true.

Friday, June 15, 2012

He's MY Daddy.

“It is a wise father that knows his own child.” 
Cowboy boots, Daddy and a stylin' lamp.
~ William Shakespeare

I am a daddy's girl.

That's not an apology or even an explanation. It's a fact.

To some that doesn't make sense, because my parents divorced when I was 6, and my daddy never lived in the same town as I did after the divorce. Visits weren't as regular as divorced families have scheduled today. Mainly that was due to distance, and the majority of our time was spent with him during summers and holiday-ish times. My friends never saw us together until I was much older. So the connection wasn't very public.

To others, it makes all the sense in the world because they know him from my adult life. They know I relate to my daddy in ways that can only be explained through the genes we share. He gets me. And I think I get him.

I'm sure my sisters are rolling their eyes about now because I didn't live with him fulltime. I missed out on the discipline and the crankiness that comes with living with your parent in the same house day in/day out. But our connection goes so much deeper than that. His kind words have always made me the happiest. And any criticism from him can bring forth my tears faster than anyone else's. I was his firstborn child. The guinea pig of parenthood, I'm sure. And he was first playmate.

Don't judge. It was the 1970s...
My mother tells stories about me adoring my daddy as a child. I greeted him every day after work with a huge smile. He and I shared our food, had tea parties, laughed and played constantly. I wish I had those memories from those early years, but it's all so sketchy. The years have stripped all of that away, and I can only recall the stories I've heard so many times from others.

I called him "sweetheart". He taught me that my name was Charee spelled "B.R.A.T". The list goes on...
What I do recall was him playing his guitar and singing "The Little White Duck".  I thought he was the most amazing musician on earth. What I would give to have a recording of him playing that song for me when I was probably 4 or 5. In my mind, it makes Michael Buble sound like he sings out of key.

My stepmother always reminds me that my daddy talked about me nonstop during the early years of their marriage. I think he missed me as much as I am sure I missed him. We were two peas in a pod...and life got in the way.

And like so many others, we had to forge our relationship through the years in a less traditional sense. As a child, that was sometimes difficult and frustrating. But as an adult, I came to love him even more.  We found our groove, and I always know I can always bounce ideas off him at any time. (Or talk about the weather, right, Keren? haha)

Daddy is one of my heroes. And here are just a few reasons why:
  • He will always "shoot me straight". 
  • He still to this day will ride any roller coaster with me. Anywhere. Anytime.
  • He is always supportive and helpful - even if what he says isn't what I want to hear. 
  • He loves his family and he loves God. In fact, his faith in God has grown so much in the 42 (gulp) years that I've known him. I've loved watching that transformation. It reminds me that "going back to daddy" is also a spiritual part of life.
  • He has learned from the pitfalls in his life, and he has made all the changes necessary to become the man God wants him to be. It's amazing and wonderful....everything I have always known and expected. 
I am so blessed to have such a great daddy. I am thankful that regardless of the distance we can't seem to shorten, we are still connected. I love  discovering things that we have in common, like our dislike of strawberries, and laughing at the same jokes with him. I love our bond. And I love that he's mine. (Ok...I know.. I have to share with the rest of the kids in the family. But still...)

Happy Father's Day, Daddy.
I love you.

Your Favorite Firstborn

Monday, June 11, 2012

Hey, Honey! I Have an Idea!

I'm not sure what it is that makes us jump up and start a home improvement project in our house. But whatever bites us in the butt and gets it started is very potent! One thing leads to another, and we just can't stop ourselves!

I have wanted to repaint our dining room for a while now. It's been lavender for 10 years, and I was ready for a change. So I talked Kerry into painting it a deep eggplant color. The results are stunning! I'm so happy with it!



Another After!

That led to finally getting the flower beds in order again...a project Kerry and the girls took on one afternoon....which THEN led to tearing up our kitchen tile!

Soon I will have a beautifully painted kitchen floor to go with my soon-to-be built kitchen island.

See? It just doesn't stop!

Yesterday while standing in the middle of the debris - or was it while standing at my fridge now sitting in my dining room? Anyway....I told Kerry that I can't wait to see what our kids will do when they grow up. I wonder if they will run far away from home improvement projects - or if they will find the oldest houses they can find to fix up the way they want them. 

I can just hear it now, "Oh my dad did stuff like this all the time. I bet we can do it, Honey."

Or "Daddy, can you come over? We want to redo the bathroom and need your help."

It will probably be: "No! Our house always had something going on. I will NOT live in a house that is always being changed. Let's just have one built the way we want it!"

Who knows?!

In the meantime, we are still plugging along. Wonder what we'll do work on next? ;)