Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Planning Ahead!

Moving right along on my own personal, self-improvement course!! Right on target, I'd say!






Monday, November 15, 2010

My Agenda Lied



I get a daily agenda sent to my phone every morning. Gives me a heads up as to what lies in wait for me throughout the day. I'm such an all-important, busy person that I really rely on that agenda. Whoosh! Why, I'd  be as lost throughout my day as I am trying to find Garretts Popcorn in Chicago! A typical daily agenda reads:




"Work


9am to 6pm"




Yup. Scary, huh? Well let me tell you. My agenda lied to me today. Here's what it looked like by the end of the day:




9:15am:  Phone call from distraught mother/grandmother.


{Details: Grandma is raising her grandson because his mother was killed in an automobile accident by a drunk driver. His dad (her son) is addicted to drugs, alcohol and violence. Grandma and grandson have been staying at a hospital down south because the son/dad was in an accident and is brain dead. Grandma/mom is having to make the decision to take him off life support. How does she tell grandson whose biggest fear is that he will lose his dad just like he lost his mother?}


12:35pm:  Hugs from a happy, crying daughter/mother/grandmother.


{Details: Daughter/mother/grandmother hasn't spoken to her mother for years. She was finally able to do it today. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she couldn't wait to come out and tell me because she knew I cared and that I'd be happy for her and proud of her.}


2:00pm - 3:00pm:  Walk through offices and building trying to decide how we'd get out of the building in case of an emergency.


{Details: See below.}


3:05pm: Discover that we would all hold hands, sing "Kumbaya", and pray for the bucket truck.


{Details: See above.}


4:30pm: Listen to mother and son fight.


{Details: Wish I could tell them about my first two experiences of the day in a way that they would hear and care and appreciate the fact they have each other.}


4:55pm: Talk to mother who is in crisis.


{Details: Mother is my age and lives with her two grown boys. They've had a knock-out, drag-out fight and she didn't feel safe in her home and comes here because people care and can help her figure out solutions to her situation.}


6:06pm: Go home.


{Details: Like my next breath, I take for granted the simple phrase, "I'm going home now."}


6:15pm: Drop on my knees and thank my Heavenly Father for life, for hugs, for safety, for my family, for a floor to drop to my knees on and a roof to keep me safe.


{Details: Self explanatory.}


6:30pm: Put on my pjs and open up a bottle of Max


{Details: Need I say more????}





So grateful you're all in my life and I hope I appreciate all you give to me in love, in friendship, in example, in encouragement and in patience.

A Post of Sizeable Depth

I've decided I missed my calling in life. I should have been a sizemologist. Maybe because I live on some famous, oversized fault line. It's certainly not because I'm fascinated with quakes and their sizes and such. No, it just seems lately all around me is consumed with how much, how little or how not enough. I critisize to bring things down to size so I'm not overwhelmed or intimidated. I emphasize to blow things up in size so they are more important and are, therefore, moved higher on my priority list. Yeah, right, my priority list. The infamous 'bucket list' that is constantly being up-sized, downsized or totally re-sized and then crumpled into a tiny-sized wrinkled ball and thrown in the garbage can anyway {which, by the way, is either a 2-gallon size or a 13-gallon size accessosized with a bag of similar sized capacity}.



To be honest, this whole fantasizing actually started when I was exersizing one night. There was an adversizement. You know those things that if you add up all the time they take during your normal hour-long television show, they account for a sizeable chunk of that hour. Anywho, I was reminded of how no matter which fast food place I choose to eat at, I am asked what size I want my order. I can kid-size, man-size, king-size, up size, downsize, oversize. I mean, really, do I have to make that many choices just to eat? It doesn't even have to be about a happy-sized meal. This whole sizeableness has sizeably flowed over into my evil-sized indulgences. I can buy a box of bite-sized morsels or even a bag of mini-bite-sized morsels. I can buy a king-sized bar of chocolate. Or I can buy just the regular sized chocolate bar. But once I've seen a king-sized, the regular size just doesn't measure up anymore. And then I have to read the wrapper to find out what size a serving is and then deduce what size jeans I will have to buy to fit my up-sized thighs if I choose to eat the whole package instead of controlling my portion's size. None of the candy is near a nickel, like I remember it being when I was a pint-sized little kid, either. I once again hypothesize that, overall, they've down-sized the packaging and up-sized the cost.



Since I just self-anesthesized with peppermint candy kisses - a $2.89 size bag of bite size temptations, I can move right into clothes shopping. My self image always needs a good exorsizing afterwards which is why I choose to have the majority of my wardrobe be jeans and t-shirts. And then there's bra shopping. Talk about the total capsizing {or should I say cupsizing} of a perfectly good shopping trip. Full-sized, half-sized, life-sized, pint-sized {in my dreams}, queen-sized, ones to emphasize and others to de-emphasize, a size-up {which in my mind is a bra with heavy rubber straps to pull everything 'up' high enough so I can fasten my skirt or my pants} or how about the advertised "one size fits all"?



Trying to get a head start on the gargantuan-sized project of making 11 pairs of pajamas for Christmas - not to mention other gallon-sized ideas I have in my pint-sized brain to do in a proportionately spoon-sized amount of time. Anyway, measuring all the grandkids to see what size they fall in. Oh, my, goodness! Is it just me or do I have the oddest sized grandchildren in the world? There's not one that matches one size specifically!



"Woe is me," I size {pronounced sighs}!



And then I see people on a daily basis with giant-sized setbacks putting forth bigger than life-sized effort as they take baby-sized steps on their way to a better place - where they can cut their phobias and anxieties down into bite size, chewable portions. And I can't emphasize enough how they have helped me up-size my gratitude for the situations I face that are sized to be a perfect fit just for me!



Well, that's about the size of the explanation into my current fantasizing and hypothesizing about being a sizemologist.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Under Wing



That's what the picture is called anyway. It has become my favorite picture for Stephanie since I have no other. {I always wonder if having no memories is better or worse than having some memories.} Whichever, this is how I like to picture her. She's being cared for and comforted and protected while she waits for me. And what better hands would I want her to be in? So thankful for my knowledge of a loving Heavenly Father!



I've set some self-improvement goals this year {that's all I can give her}. Rather than wrap presents I can try and wrap myself up in important {eternal} pursuits instead of getting so wrapped up in worldly hangups. {Why is it the tape sticks so much better when I'm wrapped in cheap bland paper?}



So, anyway, Happy Birthday, Stephanie! You are in my heart always.