In my past 35 years I have had a lot of bad days, OK days, good days, sad days, happy days, and crazy days, but there have only been 2 perfect days that I think about on those days that I am blue.
#1- Growing up I had an amazing group of girls (there were 6 of us) from church that did everything together. I loved these girls (women now), and treasure each memory. One summer about 2 years before I got married, we decided to get together in Arizona and have a reunion. We hadn't all been together in a while due to college, marriages and children. We had a great time, albeit crazy from my friends baby who had an allergic reaction to neosporine, to blow-ups about where we should eat. Through it all we maintained our good humor, laughed a ton and cried a little!!....But back to my perfect day. My friend Ida and I had driven my parents van into Arizona and we needed to drive it back to my folks and pick up my own car before we trekked on back to Washington. The day we left Arizona was warm and beautiful. We had gone to church earlier and we were just hanging in skirts and flip-flops. About 20 minutes into our drive back, we turned off the AC, rolled down our windows and turned on Bonnie Raitt full blast. We snacked on sunflower seeds and red licorice and just let the wind blow thru our hair. We didn't feel the need to talk, we enjoyed the beautiful desert scenery until the sun went down and there was a nip in the air. That was a day when I let everything slide off the shoulders and let myself have not a care in the world. It was a perfect day!
#2- I really enjoy shopping. I don't have much money, but when there is something I like, want or need, I love to shop and find it. I love window shopping, I love mall shopping and I LOVE Target. But, there are not many people I will go shopping with. I HATE to be hurried, I HATE to feel like I am dragging someone after me and I HATE shopping with my husband (he is too practical). I adore shopping with my mom (we are still on the hunt for the perfect pair of jeans for her long legs). I like shopping with my friend Rachel (we both have weight issues and we can be completely honest with each other), but...
I LOVE shopping with my best friend Amy. One day when I was down doing the daughterly duty and visiting my folks in St. George, I met up with Amy and we hit the town. We had kinda sorta been growing apart (thats what life does) and I wasn't sure how things were going to go. I think we did lunch and then we ended up hanging out in Target for close to 2 hours! We tried on every shoe, we laughed and we made snarky comments about everything! I had a great time and felt like we had really reconnected. I went back to my folks with a smile on my face and a lighter heart. Sounds silly, but it was a perfect day!
Terri
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Apples and Oranges
Remember that saying:
"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me"? What a crock!! I think at times I would prefer a stone to harsh words. And words are hardly forgotten.
I remember once as I was struggling at the age of 23 what I wanted to do with my life, I was having an intense discussion with my father in which I felt he was bossing me around. His frustration level was rising and he just blurted, "Why can't you be more like your mother?" A few things about my mom. She is the strongest woman I know. She has reservoirs of strength that rival the oil deposits in Alaska! She is the most determined woman I know, smart, pretty and loyal. When my dad said those words, all fight went out of me and I felt like I just wasn't measuring up to anyones expectations. I grew up with my grandmother always telling me to 'help your mother, she works so hard' and 'your mother is such a terrific person'. Things I never and will never dispute, but....
My mom is great, but I felt like people were not looking at ME! I wasn't my mom!! I never had her drive, and I never really wanted it either. I loved my mom, but felt like people were always wanting me to be like her. She was an apple, and I was an orange!! I never pick up an orange and say "I am so disappointed that you aren't an apple" or "why can't you be more like an apple?" I know that my father wasn't trying to hurt me, and he later apologized, but those words hurt. And since then, I have a deep fear of being compared to everyone else. And as I look back upon my life, I feel like I have missed out on a lot of opportunities because of that fear. I wasn't a wallflower by any means, but I always had that little niggling in the back of my brain.
And I still do. But with age comes wisdom, and also a 'who gives a crap' attitude. And it's that attitude I am trying to cultivate. I am who I am!! So go suck it!!!
Terri
PS- my relationship with my mother has since become the one I most treasure. As I have gotten older, she has become my best friend. I love her tons!! I'm still not "like" her, but I have worked thru that!
"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me"? What a crock!! I think at times I would prefer a stone to harsh words. And words are hardly forgotten.
I remember once as I was struggling at the age of 23 what I wanted to do with my life, I was having an intense discussion with my father in which I felt he was bossing me around. His frustration level was rising and he just blurted, "Why can't you be more like your mother?" A few things about my mom. She is the strongest woman I know. She has reservoirs of strength that rival the oil deposits in Alaska! She is the most determined woman I know, smart, pretty and loyal. When my dad said those words, all fight went out of me and I felt like I just wasn't measuring up to anyones expectations. I grew up with my grandmother always telling me to 'help your mother, she works so hard' and 'your mother is such a terrific person'. Things I never and will never dispute, but....
My mom is great, but I felt like people were not looking at ME! I wasn't my mom!! I never had her drive, and I never really wanted it either. I loved my mom, but felt like people were always wanting me to be like her. She was an apple, and I was an orange!! I never pick up an orange and say "I am so disappointed that you aren't an apple" or "why can't you be more like an apple?" I know that my father wasn't trying to hurt me, and he later apologized, but those words hurt. And since then, I have a deep fear of being compared to everyone else. And as I look back upon my life, I feel like I have missed out on a lot of opportunities because of that fear. I wasn't a wallflower by any means, but I always had that little niggling in the back of my brain.
And I still do. But with age comes wisdom, and also a 'who gives a crap' attitude. And it's that attitude I am trying to cultivate. I am who I am!! So go suck it!!!
Terri
PS- my relationship with my mother has since become the one I most treasure. As I have gotten older, she has become my best friend. I love her tons!! I'm still not "like" her, but I have worked thru that!
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
About Time
I was told this weekend that it was time for an update. I guess she was right. Just read my last post and was kind of put off by how much of a downer I was, but I really do want to write my true and real feelings. It is hard for me to truly convey on a keyboard how I really feel.
#1. I am afraid of being completely honest. I am afraid of people (namely family and close friends) judging me. I am not perfect, nor do I expect people to expect me to be, but....
#2. I push the backspace ALOT! Not only am I a horrible speller, but I sometimes feel as if my words are trite and not relevant. I guess my prowess as a typist and writer will improve as I am a more stalwart member of this blog!
I think I am going to start todays post by letting you in on a little secret. .... I once got drunk!!!! Ack! Gasp! For anyone reading this who is thinking "only once"?, let me tell you a few other things. I was raised in a devout LDS (mormon) household. Maybe I should say "normal" mormon household versus devout. We tried, we honestly truly tried. My mom would grind her own wheat for homemade bread, she attempted to make some of my clothes, we went to church every Sunday, my folks attended to their callings and we followed the teachings and doctrines of Jesus Christ. It was a fairly 'normal' upbringing. One that I am truly proud of. I always knew I was loved, I was always kept safe, and I grew up with a knowledge of a loving Father in Heaven. That has always been a comfort to me. So....
Back to me being a drunkard!!!
My husband was a very heavy drinker for the first 5 and 1/2 years of our marriage, and having had the upbringing I had, I knew the dangers of alcohol and knew to stay away from it. Needless to say, there was a hot summer day when Luis and I went to Azteca and I decided to order a margarita. It tasted horrible at first, but with the urging of my fine husband I drank the whole thing and it started to taste heavenly!! It also started to get really warm in the restaurant and I started to get really loud too. One Margarita, you ask? Remember, this was my first taste of anything alcoholic. After the restaurant we went to Bartells where I was still warm and still loud. Luis loves to say "Is it hot in here?" because that was my line all evening until I fell asleep. LOL!! I still chuckle to myself about that whole experience. I will not say that that was my last beverage, but it was my most memorable.
I had kept that as my (Luis was under oath never to tell) dirty little secret until a couple months ago I was at my parents and we were just gabbing about something, maybe we had seen a commercial on t.v, but my dad asked me if I had ever gotten drunk. I proceded to tell them the story and we all had a good laugh over it!
I guess these experiences are just a little glimpse into who I am. I want to be honest no matter what people may think. And even though it wasn't a huge thing for a lot of you out there, it was for me. To actually come clean!!!
So, for future posts, I will be me.....
the me who is stuggling with fertility
the me who is still a mormon girl, but struggling with my relationship with the church
the me who married a Guatemalan
the me who's husband is a recovering alcoholic (17 months to be exact)
the me who is overweight and desperately wants to not be
Sounds like alot of 'me's. But that's what blogging is about right? The chance to say/write anything I want to!!!
Terri
#1. I am afraid of being completely honest. I am afraid of people (namely family and close friends) judging me. I am not perfect, nor do I expect people to expect me to be, but....
#2. I push the backspace ALOT! Not only am I a horrible speller, but I sometimes feel as if my words are trite and not relevant. I guess my prowess as a typist and writer will improve as I am a more stalwart member of this blog!
I think I am going to start todays post by letting you in on a little secret. .... I once got drunk!!!! Ack! Gasp! For anyone reading this who is thinking "only once"?, let me tell you a few other things. I was raised in a devout LDS (mormon) household. Maybe I should say "normal" mormon household versus devout. We tried, we honestly truly tried. My mom would grind her own wheat for homemade bread, she attempted to make some of my clothes, we went to church every Sunday, my folks attended to their callings and we followed the teachings and doctrines of Jesus Christ. It was a fairly 'normal' upbringing. One that I am truly proud of. I always knew I was loved, I was always kept safe, and I grew up with a knowledge of a loving Father in Heaven. That has always been a comfort to me. So....
Back to me being a drunkard!!!
My husband was a very heavy drinker for the first 5 and 1/2 years of our marriage, and having had the upbringing I had, I knew the dangers of alcohol and knew to stay away from it. Needless to say, there was a hot summer day when Luis and I went to Azteca and I decided to order a margarita. It tasted horrible at first, but with the urging of my fine husband I drank the whole thing and it started to taste heavenly!! It also started to get really warm in the restaurant and I started to get really loud too. One Margarita, you ask? Remember, this was my first taste of anything alcoholic. After the restaurant we went to Bartells where I was still warm and still loud. Luis loves to say "Is it hot in here?" because that was my line all evening until I fell asleep. LOL!! I still chuckle to myself about that whole experience. I will not say that that was my last beverage, but it was my most memorable.
I had kept that as my (Luis was under oath never to tell) dirty little secret until a couple months ago I was at my parents and we were just gabbing about something, maybe we had seen a commercial on t.v, but my dad asked me if I had ever gotten drunk. I proceded to tell them the story and we all had a good laugh over it!
I guess these experiences are just a little glimpse into who I am. I want to be honest no matter what people may think. And even though it wasn't a huge thing for a lot of you out there, it was for me. To actually come clean!!!
So, for future posts, I will be me.....
the me who is stuggling with fertility
the me who is still a mormon girl, but struggling with my relationship with the church
the me who married a Guatemalan
the me who's husband is a recovering alcoholic (17 months to be exact)
the me who is overweight and desperately wants to not be
Sounds like alot of 'me's. But that's what blogging is about right? The chance to say/write anything I want to!!!
Terri
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