Glimpse

I find it much easier to communicate through writing than speaking. I suspect most people are this way. Sitting at a desk with pen and paper, or in a chair with a keyboard and computer screen, along with time to think about what you're going to say, and the ability to go back and edit, is much easier than thinking on your feet, spouting out words and not being able to take them back.

I think that's why I don't blog often. I know it's going to be a time suck because I can't just sit down and start writing. I have to have something to say: a topic, an outline, a clever way to end it (hopefully). And I know it's going to be a time suck because I'm a perfectionist. Clarification, not everything I do is perfect, I just want it to be.

Enough blogging about blogging, or not blogging.

Over the weekend, I caught a glimpse. A glimpse of what my life could be like, maybe should be like, or would be like had I made different choices or if I was another type of person. Saturday night was more like what life IS like. Drinking, eating, dancing and hanging out with a small group of people at a winery. And the subsequent headache the next day.

On Sunday, Pmo and I went to church with his family. That's where the glimpse began. These thoughts always get stirring when I'm in a church. Surrounded by families and such. Normal life. The formal clothes, the kids running around, the pleasantries, the rituals, and of course, the sermon.

Next, we trekked over to Pmo's mom and stepdad's house for an impromptu visit. (Hello, Mike, if you're reading this.) Somehow, we quickly got into a conversation on the crisis in Syria and other worldly topics. Then we went out to lunch together and then Pmo and I headed back home.

I categorize these two events, church going and political discussion, as a glimpse because they are things Pmo and I rarely do. I could get into a variety of reasons why we don't, but I don't want to speak for him. However, it's interesting when we do experience these out of the ordinary situations and it certainly gives us something to talk about later.

There are plenty of churches near our home, should we find one to join?
We're not getting any younger, do we really want to have a baby?

And then there's politics, which we're just not that passionate about. It's not that we don't care, I think, we just focus on other things. Things we enjoy, things that matter to us, things we can control, to an extent.

In the end, I'm pretty happy with our way of life and I think Pmo is, too. I know who I am, what my priorities are and I wouldn't change much. But I'd like to think I'm open to different experiences and other ways of thinking, whether I agree with them or not. They surely give me material for my blog. What else am I going to write about, world peace?

Turn the Page

I will turn 35 in a few months. Life decisions are knocking on my door and they won't go away. Even when I close the blinds, turn down the TV and hide in the back room.

Right now, my career is stressing me out more than anything. I applied for, a promotion I'd guess you'd say, and didn't get it. Which is fine. But now I'm faced with contemplating the choices I will have to make down the road in order to move forward. That's a good thing, I suppose, to have some options rather than none. However, the end result will most likely mean relocation, and I just can't talk myself into doing that at the moment.

Pmo and I love our home. We love our yard. We love that we don't have a cookie cutter house right on top of two others. We love the neighborhood. It's not that we have a bunch of get-togethers, block parties and whatnot. We only know a few of our neighbors, in fact. We just like where we are. We're very content, so why rock the boat?

Years ago, a move was no big deal. I moved to college, went back home for a bit, then on to Owensboro, Bowling Green, Madisonville, Evansville and finally Newburgh. Next month, we'll celebrate five years in this house. A place where the four of us became a family. Where Pmo learned to live with and love the dogs. They, in turn, abandoned me for his affection :)
But, it's just a house, right?

Another avenue I have yet to explore is that damn biological clock. I hear it's ticking or something. I don't know. I really don't pay much attention to it. However, I don't feel any different on the baby issue now than I did the last time I wrote about it. No overwhelming urge to hold a little piece of me in my arms. No great sadness because I don't have a child already in my life. I think I'm staying the course on this one, but it may just be up for discussion until that blasted clock finally goes off. Then I won't have to worry about it anymore.

Certain life events have made me consider having a child. The death of my grandma, the death of Pmo's granny, Pmo and me not getting any younger and what-do-we-have-to-show-for-it type thing, the reality that my branch of the family might very well end with me. Then there's what little I know about parenting: little sleep (I don't do well with that), lots of patience (I'm even worse at that) and selflessness (so I like my free time, sue me). 

When my mom was 35, I was 5 years old. She didn't have a job the entire time she raised me. Still doesn't to this day. Sometimes I think the way we've lived our lives couldn't possibly be any more different. But then I think, what if she had made a decision not to have me? I wouldn't be writing this right now. I wouldn't be worrying about my career and lack of maternal instinct because I wouldn't exist. And maybe I'm biased, but that's a bit sad. Am I missing out on meeting an awesome human being because I'm too selfish with my time and energy? Not that I'm awesome. But my kid might be. Oh, you get what I'm saying, right?

Only time will tell which page I will turn next and where this story will take me. I figure the only thing I can do is be true to myself and do what makes me happy. What else is there? Now if you'll excuse me, what my self needs now is sleep ;)

Lead On

I just completed my first news leadership class. I traveled to North Carolina on Wednesday and returned home Saturday, after hitting up the P!nk concert in Louisville. I met some great people within the company and learned a lot already.

It was also exhausting. Staying awake for 3-4 days straight is no easy task when you're a vampire. I did get a nap in after I got to the hotel on Wednesday before dinner. But after that, no more naps. And the flights weren't long enough for me to fall asleep. Thursday night, I crashed right after dinner. I had no energy for Facebook or reading or anything I usually do in my "free time".

The plane rides were interesting for someone who rarely flies and had never flown alone. I had two instances where pain shot through my forehead or jaw during the descent. The forehead one was awful. I thought fluid might pop out of my head and I was close to bawling. Other than that, everything went pretty smoothly and I'm thinking about flying to the next class in Alabama in June.

This week, I'll be gone again at the end of the week. Bon Jovi concert is Thursday. In Louisville. What can I say, I can't stay away. Pmo and I will be taking Mom with us on this one. Then things should calm down a little bit until next month. Another concert. Another trip, this time to the Keys!

Speaking of concerts, Tom Petty is coming to the Ford Center in May. Gotta search for a presale password!

Whatta Week

I just finished my Saturday morning ritual: getting up super early ('cause I can't sleep any longer), taking the dogs out, giving Bug his meds (except his insulin shot 'cause he'll wake up Pmo), watching Jack trot back to bed, cleaning up the kitchen ('cause I'm worthless on Friday nights and need to get it breakfast-ready), getting the coffee ready to make later, starting a load of laundry and settling down in my chair with Diet Coke/cream cheese/crackers to sort through the mail and newspapers with the hope of making time for my Kindle. Sometimes I blog, too. Just so happens I have plenty to talk about this week.

First of all, this guy I met at work nine years ago, and married about four years ago, GOT A PROMOTION! Pmo will now be working for our parent company, Raycom, as a digital advertising designer. He's very excited and I couldn't be more proud of him. He will still work out of 14 WFIE so we don't have to move. And if I were to take another job within the company, he would most likely be able to move anywhere with me and keep his job. He could even work from home.

Speaking of other job opportunities, I also found out this week that I was accepted into the 2013 Raycom Leadership Class. This means I will go to several management training sessions throughout the year as well as participate in monthly webinars. 15 people were nominated company wide (about 40 stations) and 8 were chosen. The goal of the program is to eventually advance the "graduates" into higher management. My first trip is to Charlotte, NC next month. I have to fly because I had a prior committment that would be a conflict if I drove. I haven't been on an airplane since 2007, that was for work, too. And before that, only a few other times.

Finally, a Bugton update. He's had a rough week. On Sunday, he was trembling and felt slighty hot. On Tuesday, he couldn't quit coughing. On Wednesday night, he had an accident in the house. And on Friday morning, his paw was bleeding from a swollen bulge between his toes. We now have medication for that. Of course, all of this didn't make Pmo and me happy campers either. But that's what taking care of an elderly dog is like. There are good days, bad days and incredibly frustrating-try-your-patience days. The big guy turns 12 on Monday, by the way.

As for Jack, well, he's bored and has cabin fever. But he still smells good from his "spa day" at the vet a few weeks ago.

Other than that, Pmo and I are gearing up for a very busy couple of months: four concerts, a trip to Cincy and a vacation in the Keys...all by the end of April. Not to mention our new work duties. But I think we're ready to get back into the swing of things because January was pretty uneventful.

Bring on spring!

Birds, Stars, Flowers and Godwinks

I just finished this book called "Godwink Stories: A Devotional" which I discovered on The Today Show. Okay, it was the Kathie Lee and Hoda hour. Sometimes I like to dip in, just to see what they're blathering about. Don't judge me.

The book is one of several by SQuire Rushnell. That's not a typo. The "S" and "Q" are both capitalized. Anyway, here's his definition: "A Godwink is what some people would call a coincidence, an answered prayer, or simply an experience so astonishing that it could only have come from God." Some examples: finding an inspirational letter (when you're feeling blue) in a parking lot that was meant for someone else but has your name on it, or two brothers who used to be dressed alike as kids and haven't spoken in years show up wearing the same thing at a family reunion. SQuire also calls it "divine alignment".

I'm not very religious. I don't think I'm gullible. And I'm not sure what I believe in. But I like to read about faith, God and spirituality every once in awhile. I also enjoy conversations, but I'll only talk with certain people. I don't want to be preached to, pushed upon or barked at. And I can tell who's authentic and who's putting on airs.

As I was coming to the end of this book yesterday and about to go to sleep, I think God may have had something in his eye.

First, I heard one bird, chirping, outside my window. A sound I am accustomed to in the summer but haven't heard in months. Because it's January. And flipping cold. I listened for a bit then got up, looked outside and by then a whole flock had gathered in a tree. Then a group of geese flew overhead, squawking.

Next, while I watched the birds, out of the blue, my iPhone started playing music from its dock on the nightstand. "Stars" by Grace Potter. I hadn't set my alarm for 2:00 p.m. or whatever time it was. So I started to freak out.

Then, the doorbell rang. A box of flowers was delivered from one of my friends.

This all happened within a matter of minutes. One after the other. I was just blown away. I'm usually asleep at that time anyway. Or at least I should be. But I was so close to finishing that book...

I realized later that I must have hit the "nap" function on the dock when I was trying to clumsily put the phone on it from my bed, and that would explain the music going off. The flowers are easy to explain. I was expecting something (didn't know what or when) from my friend because she had asked me for my address. And the birds, well, I guess they're not totally unheard of in January.

But all of those things converging at once? In rapid succession?

I was so taken aback I decided to look up some Bible verses on birds, stars and flowers. Just for fun.
Here's what I found.

Psalm 11:1 - "In the Lord I put my trust; How can you say to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?"

Genesis 1:16 - "Then God made two great lights: the greater light to rule the day; and the lesser to rule the night. He made the stars also."

Song of Solomon 2:12 - "The flowers appear on the earth; The time of singing has come, And the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land."

Take what you will from it. I won't try to interpret the verses, though the flowers did "appear" on my porch and the birds were sort of singing. I just thought it was interesting enough to share. Now I'm going to start a new book. And get some shuteye.

Get it?
Shuteye?
Wink?
;)

This Time

A week ago, I spent the better part of Sunday in the ICU waiting room because my grandma had been admitted the night before. I had visited her in the hospital several times over the years. But this time was different. She hadn't been doing well for awhile. She'd been fighting bedsores and all but given up any activity besides moving from the chair to the bed and vice versa.

My family had been called in very early that morning, so they were there for some time before I learned about the situation and arrived. The prognosis was grim and we were given "the options". We parted ways that afternoon, but they were called in again very early the next morning. And I left work early to join them this time.

The decision was made on Monday to let her go. We waited until my aunt and cousin made it over then went back to her room. They closed the curtain, took her off the ventilator, then let us back in to watch the other machines eventually tell us she was gone. I held my mom's hand and cried. Grandma's breathing continued for awhile, then slowed, then came to a stop. The lines on the screen went flat. The numbers dropped to 0.

I wasn't there when Grandpa died. I was 20, in Terre Haute, with my best friend, partying like it was 1999. 'Cause it was. This time, I was 34, with a front row seat. It was weird, it was emotional, I didn't want to do it, but I knew I had to do it. There are two things I'll remember vividly. Walking in that room at 5:30 in the morning, looking at Mom with tears in her eyes saying, "I think this is it." And walking out of that room after Grandma had passed and looking back to see Mom patting her leg and saying "Love ya, Mom."

The visitation was almost overwhelming. When you move away from home, you don't fully understand the scope of what it means to have spent 87 years in the same place, with the same people, and all of those faces coming out of the woodwork to pay their respects when the time comes. And I thought I had done all of my crying until I heard them play Alan Jackson gospel music at the funeral. He was her favorite singer.

Things like this make you face your own mortality. But it's making me face other mortalities. My parents. My husband. I don't want to bury them. I will most likely have to unless I go first. It also makes me question my life choices. Where I live, my lack of reproduction, what I've done (or not done) with my life. I can't get too wrapped up in that, though. Everyone does the best they can, right? You gotta do what you gotta do.  Focus on the good. Deal with the bad. Cherish the memories. Life goes on.

Rest in peace, Grandma.

Behind

I'm behind on my blogging.
I'm behind on my reading.

I'm behind on exercise, eating right, housework, Bug snuggling, Jack frolicking, Pmo time, yard work, vacation planning, coupon clipping, cooking, baking, crafting, scrapbooking, organizing, home improvement, vitamin taking, flossing...
you name it, I'm not where I want to be with it.

But it's not like I've been doing nothing for the past month.
Christmas sucks the life out of me.
I have a feeling January is going to be pretty boring.

How does one do it all?
How does one do all of this with kids?
How does one do all of this with work, and kids, and in-laws, and cooking, and hosting...

I'm exhausted and I haven't done half of that.

I'm also emotionally exhausted as I'm sure many of us are.
As a member of "the media" (if I hear that one more time...)
I have been inundated with the Connecticut school massacre and access to hundreds of stories that I choose not to drown myself in.
I'm actually pretty numb to shootings, even mass shootings.
But Connecticut was different.
Aurora was different.

There's innocence, and then there's selfishness.
I'm sorry you have mental problems.
I'm sorry you feel like you need to kill yourself in order to solve those problems.
But taking others with you, I just don't understand.

People that have nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with your issues.

Gone.

If I was a parent of one of those children, you couldn't tell me anything to help me understand.
God's plan, he/she's in heaven now, things happen for a reason, free will, evil in this world.

No.
Save it.

But I guess you have to believe in something to get you through it, or else the grief will consume you, the tables turn, and you may feel compelled to do something rash, unimaginable and tragic.

Whatever the answer is, I hope we find it. And those 20 little lives were not lost in vain.

Do something. Please.
We can't fall any further behind.