happy anniversary dear one.

good morning handsome-
look at us!  i was a babe of 23.  no wonder my mom was skeptical.  that and the fact that you were 34 & had two young daughters!  but we did it.  we beat the marriage odds.  statistics say our marriage was doomed from its inception.  a young college student meets an almost divorced dad in a bar &
 live happily ever after-even disney can't write this fairytale!

i long to talk with you & have you understand my words-thoughts-gamut of emotions,but you continue to slowly fad away a sliver at a time before our very eyes.  for better or worse, in sickness and in health .  i naively promised this to you 26 years ago.  i have learned to live those words these past few years & while i hate what this disease has done to you-us-our family, i  have never regretted making that commitment to stand by you in affliction & adversity.

  i am still certain i had signed up for the 50 year plan, but is seems our Father has a different design.
i realize to truly love is to be willing to let go.  i love you.  i miss you.  thank you for a beautiful family.

signed-
your devoted wife.

all i want for christmas is you...

a couple of months ago, our pastor was giving a sermon on worship music.

he was explaining how many of today's secular songs can be turned to worship songs.

if you take the message the artist is singing about or to &

turn the words to Christ instead.
this works.  i get it most of the time.  "red solo cup" and "pontoon" don't necessarily work,
put i understood his point.

i love Christmas.

the taste of peppermint bark-the smell of pine-the touch of new flannel pjs & the chill in the air-

the sight of all that sparkles-the sound of Christmas tunes.

today while i driving, i was listening to "all i want for Christmas is you"

it brought tears {there have been lots of those this month}

because peter continues to move quickly in his dementia

and it leaves me wondering how our family will look in a year.

here are some of the words to the song...

"I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true...
All I want for Christmas is
You... yeah"

and i just kept thinking all i want for Christmas is my old husband back.
that sarcastic, business suave, love of my life...just you pjm.
he is the one thing i truly need this Christmas.
 but my head knows that is impossible-never going to happen.

i think back to the sermon & try to imagine me singing those words to Christ.
all i want for Christmas is you God.
i just want You for my very own.

honestly.  that doesn't work.  i truly want my pjm back.
big & bold as always.

i pray.
dear God.
help me understand the un-understandable.
give me calm in the chaos.
grant me peace in this season {that is supposed} fill with joy.
let my tears stop.  my mascara is not waterproof.
amen.

a quiet answer from Him.  a change in perspective.
i am not singing this song of worship to God.
He is singing to me.
this is how the verse goes.

"mama bird, I don't want a lot for Christmas
there is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
underneath your Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
more than you, mama bird, could ever know
make my wish come true...
all I want for Christmas is
you, mama bird... yeah"

can i make His wish come true?
can i stop focusing on me & my loss & my wants
and find the joy of Christ in this season
by simply being His very own with all of my hurts & heart?

when life doesn't suck...

so we have had a troublesome relationship with a rodent as of late.

my friendly exterminator took pity {and some cash}, and abruptly ended the rodent relations.

i am being quite vulnerable to confess we had a rat...yep.
please don't judge...i keep a very clean home.

 

i remember back to my dating days and that feeling when you have broken ties with "crazy" and cannot believe he behaved so maturely just to return home from a day at work to

find he left 73 messages on my answering machine.

{i am professing my age...yep.  no cell phone-texting-voice mail}

 

that's how the rodent relationship seems to be working out here at cabrillo.
exterminator came-scampering in the attic over my bed at night gone.  relationship over. until...

i tried to use the central vacuum {total genius invention-google if you are confused}.

it didn't work in part of our home-the bedroom part of our home. 

 

so i call my friend raul and he makes a date to come checkout my vacuum.

i sheepishly explain the rodent relations i have been having.

says it happens all the time-rats like to nibble wires..  thanks raul for not judging. 

he ascends in to the attic.
 sweet broken husband returns from a walk.

i strongly instruct him to stay out of our bedroom as there is a repairman in there.

i return to the kitchen to my christmas'ing but hear sweet broken's booming voice coming from our bedroom.

i scamper back there as quick as a rat and hand signal to him to come to me.

he does and i explain he needs to stop chatting it up with raul.
you see, the problem with all his friendliness is raul assumes peter understands but often he doesn't.

he parks himself in the chair in our family room like a 3 year old in a timeout.
{i feel guilty for scolding him}

 

i return to my christmas'ing.

my cell phone rings.

"hello, crees?"

"yes?!"  i recognize the number as raul's.

"i am stuck in your attic.  your husband took my ladder"

holy shit! {that's in my uncensored head...}

"oh, raul, i am so, so sorry.  i will be right there."

 

what was sweet broken possibly thinking?

i have no idea.

 

dear raul.

thanks for fixing the one thing i truly want to suck in my life.

 you're the man & i appreciate your patience with sweet broken.

signed-
crees
 

{and i am all about the photo op, but just thought asking raul to smile while his feet hung out of my attic was too-TOO much.

 

thanks{giving}

thanks{giving}.

a time to show appreciation for what has been entrusted.

 

today i am giving thanks for a doctor that was both kind & bold.

words that were spoken honestly, yet carried a devastating outcome.

 

last month we met a new neurologist.

i had worked myself into an internal frenzy-sure he too would boost my weary soul with hope.

a false hope...like the eight other doctors before him each

embarking on a search to explain & cure peter's progressing dementia.

 

a slight, spectacled man.  soft spoken. 

attentive to my words & the ream of medical documents i produce.

 

so young, too young. he murmurs almost to himself. 
those words have echoed within the walls of far too many medical offices.

each time they are delivered, i feel like that insecure child that has cannibalized all ten fingernails down to their beds, leaving them raw-ragged-bloody
 while anticipating my name being called during second grade read aloud.

like me, all of the other doctors want to find a prognosis of  renewed health.
a miracle that will mend-fix-heal sweet broken husband.

however, spectacles deviated from the norm.

 

a malady with no known regimen.  the brain, encased in our cranium, is still mysterious.

even to the most brilliant doctor & scientist.

the why of peter's brain will continue to remain an unknown.

but his honesty...the dementia cannot be fixed or even stopped, was a blessing.

spectacles was confident enough, humble enough, honest enough-

against all odds, this should not be happening to my young husband,

but the reality is...he has beat the odds.

he is dying of dementia so young, too young.

 

today i am thanks{giving} to a doctor who granted the gift of freedom to just live
& allow life {and death} to unfold

while allowing hope to slip thru our fingers.

 

 

 

 

 

some days i stumble.

i was running with amber one morning last week.

i stumbled...and did this.
this was the sum of the damage except
for the small blemish it left on my ego.
my knees were sore.
my skin was sensitive.

the next morning lady antebellum sang me awake.
beckoning me to hit {well not literally} the pavement again.
i would have preferred to stay warm & scrap free in bed
but you see, i am afraid if i stop running,
i may never run again and that is what clears my mind-
gives me time to focus on God-
allows my pores to sweat & my heart to race-
fills my lungs with the crisp fall air.
it maintains me both physically & mentally.
i cover my knees with running tights-lace up my shoes,
beating the asphalt another morning in spite of a wound.

i realize those battered knees are a metaphor for our season.

yes, i would prefer to remain in the safe cocoon of flannel sheets & pjs.
closing my eyes so that red shirt he wore yesterday is hidden from my sight.
muting my ears to the words that messily stumble from his lips.
confining my thoughts to those of joy, away from the uncertainty of what if & when this.

yes, my knees are a sore reflection of my heart & soul.
scrapped-bruised-pained.
but remaining in bed to nurse the sorrow of the season is inconceivable-impractical-impossible.
sweet brown eyes greets me each sunrise, with a raspy "good morning mom" .
those eyes-that scratchy voice reminds me God's plan & timing are flawless.

because of His grace-strength-love,
i emerge from the safe envelope of bedding
& trust Him to guide me thru the hurdles & hurts of the day.







dear mrs. dmv...

dear mrs. dmv,
just a quick note to say thanks.
fortunately, we had an appointment
was it because it was monday-or are you that popular every day?

F049 window # 12.
you were beckoning us.  i had prepped peter in the car
he understood-surrender  CDL & acquire CID.
simple!
i explained our request & handed over the completed forms.
you looked at sweet broken husband & said "no more driving?"
his flat, emotionless reply, "she says no".
ouch.  that hurt.  technically, the doctor said no but i seem to be the fall guy.
please sign, date & write your phone number.
signature executed-nothing else.
  i assist in completing the missing information he cannot recall.
you begin to understand why we are standing at window #12.
your eyes, so gentle & compassionate.
the words, "he's so young" tumble from your mouth.
tears fill my eyes, knowing you are right-far too young in fact.
you take note of my sorrow & escort us to the front of the photo line.
as we depart, you wink & say to take care.

your kindness did not go unnoticed.
i am grateful we met at window #12.

signed-
tearful mama bird

dear God-

dear God,

yeah.  i know you know my every thought-move-whisper-even each very wispy lock of hair on my head, but i just need to ask you a couple of questions

 

our home is beautiful. and a little decorated for fall. when i arrived home from my run this morning, this was the view of our front door...

 

 

 



beautiful, right God?  the harvest pumpkins, the dried wreath & the ruby red geranium plant.  but wait, i spy a bucket & shovel handle-not any bucket & shovel but the one we use to scoop dog poop.  as i get right over the bucket, i notice {yep} it has poop in it.  this bucket was not here when i left on my run just 53 minutes ago. 

 

God.  we both know how it got there.  my sweet, broken husband placed it there.  this is where the questions start.  how does he remember to pick up the poop using the same bucket & shovel, but he forgets its final destination is the trash can.  why does he look not just in our backyard for piles but also in the front.  dogs {ours & others} cannot get to our front yard.   Lord, how does some information get so lost in his mind, while other details stick. 

 

i know.  look for the blessings-and i am.  sweet husband did leave the poop outside, even if it was a left as a "welcome home" mat.  he used the shovel & not his...need i say more here.  he found a purpose to fill his time. 

 

God, i trust you & know you are in the business of making all of the pain-the smelly and down right shitty parts of life into something that will glorify You.  i can't wait to see how you beautify that pail of poop.  in the meantime, i placed it in the trash dumpster.  just in case you are looking for it sometime soon.

 

love you just a fraction of what you love me-

mama bird





confession.

so there is this blog that i  LOVE.  i feel like this lady gets me-or would get me if she knew me.  like we would share coffee or wine and laugh and cry and laugh again.   in my head i have carried on conversations with her and even thought {i know this will creep you out-and it isn't my confession-that come in a minute} if i just emailed her she would realize how much we need to be kindred souls.  so instead, i just continue to watch her "status" on facebook and read every blog post.   she has marry two words into one that perfectly describe my life-our lives.  in the midst of the wave of devastation of peter's disease we can find a ripple of blessings in its wake.  yep. one powerful word to say all of that!  it is such an amazing use of 8 letters.  i am envious at her brillance.

but then...her beautiful life has taken a bit of an ugly turn this past few weeks and she has been very open about it.  i mean how else would i know, right?  and then i became obsessed with reading her every utterance and have spent pointless "me" time moments attempting to decipher the hidden message in her words.  more honestly, i was trying to figure what she had done wrong to cause her life to come all undone.

in this search, i realized she doesn't like people to use her invented words and phrases.  i was sure i misread but then went back to reread. yep, she loathes when others use her "invented" words.  well, how dare her place that little gem out there in cyberland and then say "you can look, but don't touch".  i had touched that word so much it no longer autocorrected on my phone.

okay.  so, here is the confession:  having found she doesn't like to be "copied" made me want to use the word over and over and over and over again.  and send her an email with those 8 letters strung together a gazillion times and sign it mama "8 letter word" bird!  how dare her throw that word out there and then say its all hers!  i know what you are thinking.  mama bird, you are a complete bitch. not the female dog kind but the backbiting hussy type we all know and hate.  but it is also my opinion...we {all her cyber friends} should be allowed to embrace the "ugly blessing" word and use it and all her other sweet colloquialisms all we want and she should feel SO very complimented.  darn her.  but then i realized when bitch and opinion meld together as one, it too can be a perfect marriage.  bitch+opinion=bitchpinion.  okay, so it took me 11 letters, but now i somehow feel like i won.  she can take her 8 letters and covet them, but tomorrow {in the light of day} i will shout it from the mountain tops.  will you join me?

feel free to use bitchpinion to your hearts content.  no one has ever {never ever}wanted to copy me before so i would be forever complimented.  maybe i will email her now and let her know i am a fellow wordsmith.

prayer...

 

growing up, we said a prayer each night prior to dinner.

asking God to bless the food to our bodies.

this was easy-the food was right there in front of my "God believing" eyes.

the thanks came so natural because i already had the blessing-

even if it was just kraft mac & cheese or spam {yes, my mom served that}.

 

i have held those same hands so dearly as i ask God to heal peter.

i grasp them tight some mornings,
hoping when i say "amen" and open my "God believing" eyes-

the blessing will be right there in the palm of my hands like the mac & cheese on my dinner plate.

 

i realize by turning to God and asking him to "fix" it all-

i am confessing it is so broken, so beyond repair in fact, i no longer believe it can fixed

until peter goes home to be with God.

 

i am angry, like take all the glasses from the cabinet
and smash them into shards upon the concrete pool deck kind of anger.
i am angry doctors gave hope yet we still failed.
i am angry i can't proclaim the miracle i adamantly prayed for.

i hate to pour out my indignant heart.

i hate to admit the miracle is in knowing God in spite of the brokenness.

i hate that my "God believing" prayers of healing went unanswered.

 

i fear bold honesty with you and God.

i fear claiming defeat and giving up.

i fear if you only half-heartedly believe in God,
 when i give life to these words,
you will decide believing in a God that didn't heal proves He truly does not exist. 

 

i trust God to guide us thru this time as a family-

allowing our vulnerable, hurt selves to shine God even when peter is broken and unhealed.

i will continue those prayers of thanks

even when my "God believing" eyes cannot see the blessings in all of the broken.

 

 

 

 

 



he doesn't mean what he says.

peter stumbles around when he converses.

his brain has tossed aside so many words,

much like a piece of chewing gum that no longer has a hint of flavor

smashed on the sidewalk in front of a movie theater.

 

he doesn't mean what he says.

 

he says...when can i drive my white truck again?

he means...i want to work.

provide for my family by using my hands.

construct a building that will house a company that allows others to work and provide.

 

he says...lunch was glorious.

he means...spending time with construction buddies brings back the "glory days".

those days when work & words were so fluid.

one upmanship laced with a few crude jokes

leaves them laughing like preteen school girls.

 

he says...he is a crook.

he means...knowing my wife & family are taken care of has always been my motivation.

not only have you not held up to the agreement you wrote,

but you have stolen my wife's peace of mind

while i am sick.

only a villain would take advantage of me like this.

 

he says...you are a strong man.

he means...sweet brown eyes, daddy isn't always going to be here.

as you know, son, my mind is fading.

nine year old boys are not built for this-but you, my son are.

your task is to carry on the legacy of our family-

honesty-honor-humility.

please, make sure the doors are locked at night.

 

he says...you are beautiful.

he means...i see, chrissy, how busy you are managing so much &

you still wear mascara and lip gloss.

i see God picking up where your tired soul leaves off.

i know we are broken-but i am trusting God to tend to my family

because i an no longer capable.

 

he means so much more then those sloppy words that tumble from his month. 

 

 

 

 



not so lady like...

i got this card from a friend.

the cover is on the left & inside is on the right.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

sums up lots.

and i am sure my mom is getting her ashes all fluffed up in her urn right about now.

i can hear her, "now chrissy, that is just not lady like behavior"

 

but i realize some days being a lady like mom wanted is overrated.

i am leaning toward raw honesty.

 

the odds of dementia in your fifties is like so tiny-or close to impossible.

it is almost like winning the lottery except we didn't even have to purchase a ticket.

 

seriously...wtf

{sorry again, mom}

 

family history-nope

drug use-no

chronic alcoholism-not that either

head injury/trauma-again, no

metabolic or hormone disorder-blood is perfect

brain tumor-MRIs come back showing a normal 59 year old brain

 

when i see God face-to-face,

is it okay to ask, "srsly God. wtf?"

 

He can't send me to hell

i do know that

on the quiet day when i asked Him to live in my heart.

He promised it was forever.

whether i was talking lady like or not.

 

p.s.  taget sells the card.

i purchased all they had here in my town. 

 

 

 

 



here's the scoop

been kind of quiet lately.

there have been lots of tears of loss & wonder about the path ahead.

 

sweet peter has dementia.

we will probably not know the why of it until he passes away.

 

i have so wanted to write a post that said all of the medicine has healed his brain.

actually, i wanted him to write that post to prove how healthy he was.

each morning i would greet God with prayers of healing peter.

each night i would rest my head next to his, asking God to renew his mind.

 

i have come to the bittersweet realization God's will & mine haven't been the same.

but i want peace & continue to press on in my faith.

in my search for comfort in trying to understand His plan,

i learn i must set aside my will & embrace His.

God has a much greater plan than just me & my husband in our home in our little community.

perhaps in peter's illness & ultimately his death,

more of God's glory & love will be shown to the world by how we walk this path

as a couple & family.

 

one of the doctors we saw while peter was on his little getaway at the hospital

shared some godly advice with me.

he asked if there was calm in all of the medical routine i was trying to manage.

i had to admit it was extremely stressful & a touch crazy

-especially with that sweet brown eyed boy of ours.

he said God would want me to have peace

& if this routine was not creating that, perhaps it was time for a new routine.

 

as a family, we are embracing peace & all the things that peter loves.

ice cream-laughing as a family-watching cops-sitting on the patio watching jeremiah & the dogs-

visits with dear friends-working in our yard.

that's a routine of peace.

quarterback crunch.we purchased the entire tub.it's his fav!
stop by for a scoop when you are in the neighborhood!



a shitty weekend...

yep.  i just said that.
gotta call it like i saw {and smelled} it...and "it" was none other than shit.
like the real human poop kind of shit & lots of it.
my best guess is eight years of it.  not that i am an expert in this sort of thing.

the kind pump truck driver says every three to fours years you need to pump the septic.
it makes for a "healthy" system-i was afraid to confess to pump man that i didn't really think about our "system" beyond the flush.  how shallow am i?

the same weekend, God very BOLDLY showed us the treatment we have been praying would heal peter, is in fact destroying him.  he is done-ready to stop fighting a battle that we continue to lose ground on anyway.  that's even shittier.

yes.  there are regrets & guilt & tears, but now we can relax and live and let life unfold however God decides.  i can stop being a nurse & slip back into my peaceful role as wife.

in all of the shittiness of that last weekend, i do know God is still here-loves our family-has provided for us during this three year fight.  the unexpected shit of last weekend has drawn us closer together as a family.

now i am off to flush with wild abandon-but somewhere between the 2016 summer olympic closing ceremonies and the november presidential elections i must remember to give kind pump man a call.  he will be so proud i remembered to maintain the "health" of our system.

beautifully broken...

 

it has been a week.

a long and ugly week

the ugliest week ever...EVER {please, appreciate my shout}.

 

but at the end of today,

God has taken the sharp, painful, piercing edges of last friday

until till today, this thursday and made them beautiful.

 

remember to embrace the beauty of the brokenness.

i forgot this somewhere between july 2009 and

today.

 

for that i a sorry,

but have been given another chance at grace.beauty.love.

 

 

 

 



tastes like hate...

i am one of those christian folks and have wrestled with this whole
chick-fil-a controversy.  here's my deal:

yes, the bible says marriage is between a man and a woman...but is also says no to divorce, no to premarital sex, no to over consumption of alcohol, no to working on the sabbath and no to lusting after your neighbor's wife, coveting his cool toys or just plan old hating him.

i lived with my husband while we engaged...and we were living in the "marital" kind of way if you get what i'm sayin'.  did i mention he was divorced and had two very young and innocent daughters?  yeah, i'm thinking God was not too happy with either of us back then.  it is so simple to be all judgmental as a christian.  in my head i have made this christian "winners circle"  of us folks that follow all of the "rules" God has set forth.  but here is the thing, eventually, something is going knock my judgemental christian goggles square off my face quicker than i can recite the books of the old testament which instantly demotes me to loser status.

but, if i sit without those uppity christian lenses and truly look at the souls around me, i realize they all are in need of grace, acceptance and God's unconditional love.

i am sorry it tastes like hate...and i can understand why.  above all things, God loves you and i am called to show you that love.  i am sorry my circle of "winners" have made you feel like a lifetime member to the losers circle.  my God is exceedingly disappointed in us.







 
 

more than she-i can handle

had breakfast with a friend this morning.

somehow we just get one another.

we talk about children-vacations-pets-food-education

and God.

she can so sympathize with this pickle of a life i am in right now.

in fact, her loss is by far greater than mine.

her words this morning rang so true in my heart.

to be honest, she said, i don't care how many people hear my story-

even if i went on oprah {we realize she is no longer on the air}

and millions of people came to God hearing my story...it doesn't make up for the life i lost.

she is so right...dreams have been shattered in the middle of a loss

and even when you gather some distance under your feet from the epicenter,

it still just doesn't make sense.

and i flounder when life doesn't make sense.

we did agree that in the very middle of all the tragedy,

many have no idea what to say and in an effort to comfort,

being told God would never give me-you-your family
more than you-me-us could handle just doesn't sit well...ever.

my God loves me...i am His child.

He adopted her-me into His family.

no loving parent would give their child what she-me has been dealt..ever.

in my effort to attempt logic, walk with me for a moment and picture this:

i see my brown eyed boy, who is in fact adopted,

he is nine and in the middle of standardized testing-
which its a BIG deal at school and kids need to bring their "A game" all week..
so say me, god, decided to "shake things up a bit" and really test sweet brown eyes.
so i let him stay up late-like till 10:00.
 then i hook him up to an IV drip {i am medically trained to do this now because of Peter}
and pump extreme sour belts and twix into his veins all night long.
i wake him at 6:00 and let him frolic in the pool for a few hours
then send him off to school on an empty tummy and expect stellar performance on those tests.
this would be mean spirited parental decisions.

i am human and full of flaws but would never do this-okay, perhaps to someone i dislike a whole lot-but my child-not ever. 
God is, well God, and He is good always...
therefore He would never have given our family all that we are faced with...
i know this.

but i also know, He is strong and mighty and will come along side me-her-us
and somehow continue to give the strength necessary to put one foot in front of the other.

AND she-me decided wine-dessert-smokehouse almonds...and getting our butts out of bed and exercising every day keep us from waving that lazy white flag of defeat.

 

longest saturday...ever.

gonna get a little "church-y"...just a warning

i believe in God.  i believe He has a good and perfect plan.

i believe He allowed His very own son to die on a cross many years ago on a Friday to forgive my sins. 
i believe His son was resurrected two days later on what we celebrate as Easter Sunday.

i know the Bible is not a storybook or even a history book.

it is the word of God that is to guide me, right here in my simple life, thru my todays.

late at night in the comfort of my bed, i question God

you see, it seems His plan for my family is diametrically opposed to the plans we had for us.

how could we be sitting in the middle of God's perfect plan when peter remains sick?

i am sometimes convinced God forgot about us sitting in our sweet home with a bad case of Lyme.

i open my Bible to the book of luke and reread the resurrection story {i know...it isn't Easter}

Jesus was hung on a cross, not because he had done anything wrong,
but because this was God's perfect plan to give us all eternal life
and Resurrection Sunday was two days later.

okay, so hear me out...

what were all the people and disciples doing on saturday-
that day between Jesus' death and his resurrection?

 i am certain lots of people were horrified, confused and questioning

God's perfect plan for His very own son. 

they had lost a dear friend and were hopeless on that saturday.

i lay in bed at night questioning God and our circumstances and to be brutally honest

i feel hopeless-how is good going to come of this God? 

but i force myself to remember...

in the middle of that saturday when all hope seem lost, when the disciples were without Jesus,

God was busy...busy preparing for Resurrection Sunday.

so in the middle of this season of our longest "saturday"...ever

i rekindle my hope, knowing God is doing His very best work in our family

and we too will make it to our own "sunday".

just a week...

so a week ago we celebrated our three year anniversary....

no not of our marriage, you silly.

three years ago, a man that look very, much like clark kent, told peter and me that peter had early

 on-set alzheimer's.  all i could think was "hey clark...dash into a phone booth-turn into superman-fix this "curse word like poop" situation for me!

well...then we found out peter had lyme disease

and began on this journey of iv antibiotics and herbal elixirs.

and we have decided to celebrate as we press on.

i have realized there are days i would like to scream at the tippy top of my lungs at God for doing THIS to my husband.  there are days when i would like to smash every piece of glassware upon my wooden floor like i was celebrating at a jewish wedding.

perhaps a robust mazel toz would realign the planets in my favor.

i call a friend and she says "i will help you thru.  you can do this {what ever the hell this is} 

and your sweet brown eyed boy will be loved and survive this.

i turn to God and scream at him...do you, God, not realize my checkered past in trusting You?

do you not realize i am raising a precious brown eyed boy that is only 9.

do you realize my sweet husband is far too young for an illness that he cannot recover from?

my head would like to tell me Jesus forgot about me {just like my daddy did when i was 18 months old...that i was of little importance}.

but the bible is so full of stories like mine-ours.

and somehow i realize my anger-doubt-questioning of God confirms one thing i cannot place a value upon.

if i question-i have faith.

therefore i will press on.

marathon of a day!

me and my precious baby bird!  she rocks!

so yesterday was the BIG day we have been training for.

26.2 {and how that .2 matters} miles of sweat, aches, smiles and lessons.

amber and i headed to san diego at a pitch black 3:26 am to run...

crazy i know especially given that the race didn't start until 6:15 am,

but that's how racedays happen-and the pre-race people watching is always entertaining.

but the reason for the post...i had lots of thinking time {3:58:11 hours worth to be exact}

my ipod failed me and i threw it {in anger} at a trash can in the gaslamp district
{i missed the can...i was NEVER good at sports}.

along my journey, i realized the run & lymes disease are somewhat parallel.  how so you ask?

• having a best buddy on the journey makes it bearable
• recognizing and tending to needs are essential in order to finish {water & "gu" you rocked my world yesterday}
• having positive distractions help pass the time {thanks man with your running shorts up your butt-i bet he has an irritation rash like no other today}
• i am stronger than i think...and "head" strength over physical strength is vital when it comes to truly going the distance
• most people think i am crazy for running so far...but also admire me for pushing to the finishline...and would secretly like to know how i "do it"
• the little things people offer do matter...i was never so grateful for the otter pop at mile 22!
• smiles and hugs from family at the finish are priceless...cheers from random strangers are fabulous too
• seeing the loops, turns and miles ahead are discouraging and left me wondering if i could truly "do it"...but i have the tenacity to not give up
• when everything inside you says to stop {running or treatment}...God gives me wings to push on
• the closer you get to the finish, the harder it is because you are weary and have so much time behind you...the last 6 miles were the same distance as the first six but took so much longer and were arduous  
• when i cross the finishline...i realize all the pain, doubts, sweat were worth every joy-filled and pain-filled step

"let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us"

Hebrews 12:1

wheelbarrow...

hands on the keyboard, yet words will not spill out.

afraid of whining-complaining-ungratefulness

who loves a complainer-i don't

somewhere i have lost my vision.

my vision for God.  He just gently slipped away.

or did i?  yes, it was me.

He never walks off.  He sits quiet-still wondering when i will turn away from the wheelbarrow load of fears i like to push ahead of me.

the cargo is heavy.my arms are fatigued.my thighs burn.my heart pounds.

BUT i keep pushing, afraid to look up.  i could lose my focus and overturn my load.

i refuse to let go. i must somehow control the load with my own strength...alone.

He whispers gentle...i almost miss His words.

"Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,

and He saved them from their distress".

psalm 107:13

i leave my wagon load of fears on the side of the path.

i call out to Him...and wait for His answers.

hands open.  heart filled with a pinch of faith...knowing He is a promise keeper.

my dear mailbox

dear mailbox.

i feel like we are at a crossroads in our relationship.

a few years ago, i ran to you with joyful anticipation

like a child eager to spy what santa left under the christmas tree. 

but lately you seem to be full of those empty calories i despise-
vs catalogs-penny saver-amex preapproval
those things that fulfill for a brief moment and then leave me empty.

why do i dread you so mr. mailbox when we had such a long love affair?
the truth is...i love to fill sustained

you remind me that handwritten words have morphed

 into email-texts-facebook messages-tweets.

yes, you are right mr. mailbox, i do bask in the speed of technology;

but i miss the letter penned by a loved one. 

love notes-thank yous-birthday hellos sitting eagerly waiting to be retrieved from that curbside box.

you see sir, if we continue on this path of you delivering just "junk"

your purpose will be lost and we will no longer need each other.
that makes me sad.

i miss your purpose.
i miss handwritten notes from mom.
what do you miss?

signed-
your curbside lover

i'm late, i'm late...for a very important date!

my dear amber.

i didn't forget your birthday, i was just taking a page from your book and trying out late.

you were 17 {very long}days late 23 years {and 1 day}ago.

after a day of lateness...it fits well.  i might try it more often!

you changed my heart {and body} forever on that early evening of your long awaited arrival.

in an attempt to regain that pre-baby figure, the two of us quickly became running partners.

yep-here you are on your very first run!

little did i know, this every other day routine we fell into would become a way of life for the two of us.

as you begin year 23, we are busy training for 26.2

thanks for being the best workout partner ever...

at the gym and on the road!

you are amazing & happy birthday,

mama bird

29ers, leapserts, leaplings...

the title is dumb.  i know.
i didn't make it up.  i found it on the internet {jeremiah told me once to not believe everything i hear on tv or the internet-maybe this is one of those times}.
those are official titles you endowed to someone who has a birthday on feb. 29th.

two days old...

happy 5th {or 20th} birthday scooter...aka rally dog!
the odds of being born on this particular day are 1,461 to 1.
they add the extra day every four years to keep the celestial calendar in order-something about the earth's circle around the sun.  i am no astronomer but that's my understanding.

since our "cars" celebration for your 4th birthday-so much has changed.
you have made that transition from boy-kid-teen to carrying the role of "man" upon your shoulders.
while the past four years have provided lots of challenge with dad & his health,
it forced you to learned to find an equilibrium in pursuing your education while remaining a necessary force in our home.
college is supposed to be an egocentric season self-definition...living with minimal responsibilities & embracing the "college" lifestyle.

i have to find the "thanks" in this giving from God.  a reason-a blessing in fact-for a disease that is so hard to fight & has taken so much from one of ours.  perhaps a slice of blessing is it has given you perspective beyond your 20 years...keeping you grounded in faith & family.

wishing for cake with you today!
i promise to NEVER call you a leapster-29er-leapling.
happy birthday scoot.
i love you.


mom...aka chris

10 day challenge!

so amber is always coming up with these wild ideas {like in january we decided to go shop free for 30 days-not like no grocery shopping but no personal shopping-the credit card company called to make sure i was alive and well mid-january}.

so last friday was one of those days..."real eating" for 10 days.

what does that mean?  well, i am not an expert and i am sure there are flaws in my plan, but essentially we have pledged to eat only "real" foods for the next 10 days.  that means no chips-candy-bread-pasta-cereal.  you know, all those things that the grocery store offers that are already premade.  so day one and i have survived.  i did eat eggs with fresh spinach and an apple for lunch.  peter looked at me like i was an alien.  with all the green on my plate, maybe i was eating an alien.

tonight we had whole wheat naan {it is like a flat bread} which was the hearty side to go along with bean and wild rice soup simmered to perfection my cheery sunshine yellow dutch oven {remember...monday is also meatless}.  the soup was saute onions, garlic, carrots and celery.  add two cans of {organic} garbanzo beans and two diced tomatoes.  add 6 cups of {organic} chicken broth.  season with salt & pepper.  i added dried basil.  simmer for 30 minutes.

cook one cup of wild rice in a separate pot until tender {this takes about 40 minutes}.

remove three scoops of the veggies from the soup{or more based on the chunkiness you prefer to your soup}, emulsify the remainder-the beans make the broth so thick...almost makes it seem like a creme soup.

add back the scoops of veggies as well as the cooked rice...heat!

i am sure it would be delish with parmesan cheese on top-but not for the next ten days!

amber made creme of cauliflower soup...we are having a soup swap for lunch tomorrow!

happy birthday mom!

dear mom-
so you would be 74 today!  just thought i should clear a few things up with you.

remember:
the bedroom on rincon avenue caught on fire-TWICE?
yep. i set those fires {both times}.  wooden tinker toys and tissues. 

three right turns = one left turn?
lefts are really not that scary.  we saw more of our little world this way however.

you would make us glittery cards...loved them!
the best part is the "made by" on the back.  even my children looked for that on the back!

all those make shift meals you made over the years. 
did we really have hot dogs and pineapple rings one Thanksgiving?  yes sir we did, but that was because sis had an ear infection which nixed going out for dinner {i still think she was exaggerating about the pain}.  stores were not open on holidays way back then so you improvised.  i still hate hot dogs.

that orange Reader's Digest "fit-it yourself" book that was your home repair Bible-your fear of lizards-your hankering for a firm foot rub complete with lotion {this disgusted me}-your love for ice cream & chocolate-your courage to leave our father when we were so tiny.

don't know if i ever said thanks for the BIGS and the littles...but the memories and laughter are still warm in my heart.   i miss you.  happy birthday.  hope you are celebrating today by sharing cheesecake with God.

love you-
chrissy

p.s.  is it okay now to tell sis you really did love me more than her?

dear brown eyed boy...

dear brown eyed boy-

we were mad at each other this morning.

you upset because i was washing the jersey you placed in the dirty laundry basket.

thanks for placing clothes in the basket...

BUT if they are not dirty, why oh why were they in the laundry basket?

me frustrated because i was just doing one of my "mothering" jobs.

you dug in your emotional heels.

i dug mine deeper because I was "right".

when my heels are stuck in my rightness i cannot hear beneath your words.

you love soccer.  you are passionate about arsenal.

your man is van persie.  you wanted him to enjoy third grade with you today.

i told you to let it go...wear IT tomorrow.

i continued to defend my laundrying schedule.

the jersey-laundry debate is not worth the distance.

 i want you to share your joys & upsets.

sorry my stubborn heels were dug in so far my ears couldn't hear your heart.

do you know how much i love those sweet brown eyes that call me mama?

they are priceless-just like you.

love-

laundry grump

p.s.  tomorrow is trash day...

did you store anything in the trash compactor you will need later?

just askin'

january recap

So I made all of those lofty goals just 30 some odd days ago...things I would press toward this year.  I wondering if I have accomplished any of the objectives I proclaimed important in this 2012.

1.  Blog more..okay not so much.  7 of 31 days.

2.  Gracefully say what's on my mind.  I still stink at this...just ask J.  I called him a spoiled brat on Wednesday.  Zero grace and lacks specific ways he could correct his behavior. 

3.  Meatless Monday...yes I have been meat free every Monday in January!  But I realize I rely on heavily on dairy on these days and don't really know if that's any healthier than eating low fat meat.  I have developed a passion for cheese...that's not low fat {and it's animal fat-who doesn't love a fat animal?} therefore not healthy!  wow.  i suck...0-3 so far.

4.  Boston 2013...yep.  Just when you were going to pull the plug on me-I got this one on lock!  I have been upping the weekly mileage and my 18 week training program.  In June, I will rock and roll in San Diego.  Amber...thanks for the amazingly hill sprints Monday morning!

5.  Test recipes...two winners and one loser so far! 

6.  Date Peter...humph.  Not so much unless you call a date one that involves a third person with MD after his/her name and orders more labs-not a cocktail and dinner!  Oh Lyme's...you put a damper on this girl's parade!

7.  Kefir!  Oh Yes.  Anyone that would like some low fat kefir let me know.  I am producing a mason jarful every 24 hours.  Google it if you are wondering what i am talking about.  I do have to admit, it is a tad high maintenance

8.  Read the Bible...my BFF is Job.  I will blog about him very soon.  He knows my heart.

9.  Yoga...nada.

10.  Amber's scrapbook...another negative.  But I did make two adorable t-shirts for Charlie...does that count?  Nope Chrissy-keep your eye on the prize.

11.  Got carwash?  The road to hell is paved with good intentions of driving to Rancho Carwash, but then it would cut things too close to my dentist appointment or the 10-day forecast predicts a 6% chance of showers tomorrow.  This can derail me in a nanosecond.  I am faint in spirit I realize.

12.  Amazing race app...so they don't accept apps until Sept.  Need to write that in my day planner in black Marks A Lot! And we still have no video so basically I am a loser here as well.

I can say I am chiseling away at 4 of the 12...how are your resolutions working for you 1/12th in to the new year?

heartfelt...

Today is National Wear Red Day to bring awareness to women regarding heart disease...I am wearing red not just for the American Heart Association but also for my mom who passed away two years ago from a heart attack.

Did you know the heart is an amazing organ...

• The average heart weighs less than a pound...a man's heart weighs a few more ounces than a woman's but neither tip the scale over a pound.
• Your heart is made up of almost all muscle...which means it is strong enough to lift 3,000 pounds {that's more than the amazingly safe Ford Pinto I drove when I was 16}
• If you could take the energy a beating heart creates daily, it would equal what is necessary to drive a pickup 20 miles!
• The volume of blood your heart pumps in an average lifetime is equal to leaving your kitchen faucet on full blast...for 45 years!  {imagine THAT water bill}
• Red wine truely is good for your heart.  Red grape skins contain antioxidants which decrease cholesterol.  Have a glass of Merlot!
• And perhaps the most interesting fact {and I am blushing as I type this}.  Studies show having sex three times a week decreases the risk of a heart disease by 50%.  Skipping the gym and sleeping in isn't always a bad thing!

And check out this funny little video {on heart attacks-NOT sex!}  just a little heart attack

Pat yourself on the chest and have a healthy heartfelt day!

pinterest...

I will be the first to admit...I know very little about Pinterest except that it is like a personal virtual bulletin board.  I can wander around looking at other's ideas and "pin" the ones I covet onto my "bulletin board".  Please, all of you in" the know" correct me if I am wrong {and I likely am...}

Having the function of this virtual genius idea understood, I have one question.  Why, or why would anyone want to "follow" what I am "pinning"?  Perhaps this is a compliment that others want to know what I have tacked up on my board...a hodgepodge of  crafts-recipes-hairdos-outfits & home decor.  Honestly, this is highly embarrassing!  I struggle finding my own virtual bulletin board...yep, I am uncertain of where I have left all of those virtual riches I want to embrace as my own in hopes of making my life more beautiful.  All I have really done is created a virtual mess...and it's a public mess!  Oh me...it's like having all my treasures thrown in my garage and leaving the door raised 24-7 for all to see how unorganized my life is!

To anyone who is "following" me...I am truly apologetic. I am not worthy of  following.  In fact, you could probably find what your looking for quicker all on your own...if not it may be wedged between the Christmas decorations and unicycle just past the dusty weight bench in the far left corner of my garage. And the door is open most weekends and weekday afternoons so come on take a gander whenever you'd like.

Just bein' honest!

one word

so i made my list of resolutions...the dirty dozen as I am referring to them.

{and I am sticking with them...}

but Amber also challenged me to choose one word for the year.

i can never say just one word, unless of course it is the "last word"

then i covet it much like an Olympian standing on the podium proudly adorning a gold medal

but i have tossed and turned this restless idea over and over in my mind these past several days

wondering if I could chose one word

{Pat, could I buy a few extra letters?}

MERCIES

{something that gives evidence of divine favor}

gentleness-goodwill-grace-humanity-kindliness-lienency-softheartedness-tenderness

God daily offers me divine favor.

I am a follower of God.

I must embrace the mercies He showers upon me.

I am created in His likeness.

I must pass on His tender grace & goodwill.

Dear Lord,

 Thank you for your undeserving grace. 

Let the adversity we face as a family be your mercies not yet recognized. 

Let my word {mercies}be the force behind my softhearted actions.

Amen.

the dirty dozen...

I am thankful for the fresh, much needed start of a new year.

Here are the twelve, I will embrace this year of 2012,

1.  Blog-write more {I mentioned this on Jan. 4th's post}

2.  Call it like I see it {this may have come up in the previous post as well}...I learned {and desperately desire to unlearn} to give my mom the answers she wanted to hear.  With my mom being gone two years now, I want to put aside my perceived pleasing answers and gracefully say what I want or how I see a situation.

3.  Meatless Monday...January's Runner's magazine has a brief article on small nutrition changes you can make which will improve one's diet and workout performance.  Meatless Monday was one of the suggestions-simply don't consume meat one day a week.

4.  Qualify for the 2013 Boston Marathon.  I qualified ten years ago for Boston, but had a small interruption in my training {Jeremiah's adoption} which prevented me from running the much acclaimed Boston Marathon.  I am running the Rock-n-Roll Marathon this June and need to finish in 3 hours 55 minutes...which is actually 15 minutes longer than I had ten years ago...sweet advantage of having another decade under my feet!

5.  Test a new recipe each week.  This week I made Ahi Poke and it was a hit. Next is going to be a roasted brussels sprouts recipe.  I will post these {even the flops-there has to be some, right?} each week.

6.  Date Peter more...this past two years have been so full of medicine, doctors appointments, and sheer panic on my part that I have forgotten to have fun with my husband.  I vow to laugh more with him.

7.  Make kefir...why?  It is a form of cultured milk {like yogurt}, but has a plethora of those good germs that your tummy and immune system need.  We all could use more culture in our lives...especially my husband who is hooked on antibiotics for the time being.

8.  Read the Bible more...I am a good devotional-praying-journaling girl but so often I don't read entire books of the Bible.  I am kind of like a baby penguin.  I let so many amazing Christian authors chew and digest the Bible and then spit it into my brain.  It is time this birdie learns to chew the Word herself.

9.  Yoga...this is a "bucket" item{Scooter says this make me sound old.  "Hey, Scoot...I don't care if I sound old"-this takes us to #2-graceful enough, right?}.  I just want to try in once.  I don't think I will become a bikram or shanti follower.

10.  Finish Amber's scrapbook.  She is married...it is time.

11.  Take my car to the car wash more often.  In spite of it's age, my dependable Suburban feels "new off the car lot" when it is cleaned...inside & out.

12.  Apply to compete on the Amazing Race with Amber.  We would have too much fun and be so hillarious to watch...promise!  We need a techy person that can make an AMAZING video for us to submit with our applications.

That's my twelve for twelve.

What do you resolve this year?

a failed attempt...wahwahwah.

So I decided with the new year, comes resolutions...

And one of those resolutions is to dust off the laptop-stop googling lymes disease and write more because i LOVE to write...even if i am my only fan!

So day four of the new year, which is really only day two, because we were forced to go to Hawaii for a week to celebrate 25 years of being married to the man of my dreams {and nightmares some days-resolution #2...call it like i see it}.

So snug in my flannel pjs and plush pink {not VS PINK...please} robe ready to let the creative juices flow from my fingertips...when my ears are confined on just one thing.."smackage".

yep-I am sure Roget's has incorporated this word but if you are not familiar let me paint a picture for you...

brown eyed boy {who is so precious...in a still photo} did not eat all of his dinner and has the audacity to ask for a Oreo shake {my speciality after interning at Baskin-Robbins during high school} to which i gave him the "stare" and said nope, then stupidly {i have had a glass of chardonnay...not a bottle, so I am unsure of where the "parental wisdom" fell thru the cracks...but it did right smack dab in the middle of my family room} and said you can help yourself to and whatever you can make-he is not versed in blender operation quite yet.

please note...the gallon size jar that those large discount warehouses sell which is "easy grip jar"...i might have sensitive hearing {my tympanic membrane has reached a fever pitch} as he smacks on pickles which is a vegetable but i have zero endearment to at the moment.  To accompany the sound was the stench {i mean a nasal hullabaloo} of pungent vinegar. 

operation BLOG...failed.

but there is 362 {it is a leap year} days to recover from this minor roadblock.

did i mention my sweet man of a quarter of a century was accompany the brown eye boy by chopping on Hawaiian macadamia nuts?

happy new year!