tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9320694683966333452023-11-16T02:42:19.962-08:00Cookies for Emergencies"When things are bad and getting worse, keep a cookie in your purse."
Life and it's many different ingredients...Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.comBlogger418125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-573762925129087162016-01-25T02:00:00.000-08:002016-01-25T02:00:12.959-08:00To Drive AwayI sat in the passenger seat at the stoplight idly looking out the window.<br />
<br />
On the corner a man stood holding a sign "Hungry. Ready to work. I just need a chance."<br />
<br />
The used car dealership across the street streamed with flags fluttering in the wind; promises of hopes and dreams.<br />
<br />
A young girl stood at the bus stop with a book bag, long braid, and standard uniform of jeans and t-shirt.<br />
<br />
She was talking to someone.<br />
<br />
No.<br />
<br />
This was not a conversation.<br />
<br />
She was shaking her head and curling in on herself. Trying to ignore whatever it was that the man in the pickup truck was saying to her 25 feet away.<br />
<br />
He kept talking and she kept shaking her head; stepping away, moving away...defenseless.<br />
<br />
Why didn't I get out of the car when no one else moved forward from the gas pump or the bus shelter?<br />
<br />
Why didn't I step in front of her offering protection and solidarity?<br />
<br />
Why didn't I understand what was happening before the light turned green and we drove away?Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-19290371989912807442015-01-26T02:00:00.000-08:002015-01-26T02:00:00.622-08:00VisionSometimes things fall into place through absolutely no fault of your own. Because your vision was rather dim and murky with a vague label of "survival" haphazardly pasted on top. And the greater vision is deeper, harder and more nuanced and beautiful than anything conceived in a mere human brain.<br />
<br />
But suddenly, labels, which so often are touted as stifling and limiting, open doors to knowledge. And that knowledge delivers some freedom from guilt and worry. Hope creeps in and maybe a smidgen of extra patience piggybacks in with it.<br />
<br />
A connection, two years deep that bring a guaranteed smile to her little face every week, suddenly expands beyond music and brings the soul-deep relief connection one feels when they hear "Oh, me too!"<br />
<br />
Our support network has expanded in ways that feel bigger than mere numbers.<br />
<br />
The days are busy, so, so busy, can I say busy 50 more times just to emphasize how busy it all feels? But, not in the head down, push through it and try to remember to breathe way.<br />
<br />
The sun has been streaming through my extremely dirty windows and I have actually noticed. And today, the surf broke on the sand and the weather pushed 70 degrees (in January!) and we all smiled and laughed and yelled with delight.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-2307917500319488272014-12-18T02:00:00.000-08:002014-12-18T02:00:03.125-08:00NormalDismantling means that eventually you have to rebuild.<br />
<br />
But in order to rebuild you have to have a plan.<br />
<br />
And to have a plan you have to know your terms.<br />
<br />
Which means you have to mull over your definitions and decide which ones work, which ones aren't quite accurate, and which ones are downright wrong.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjza_MBEEtMtYxa2Hh-XZU9YFSqYmAOzhRu25Hi-SgqsTzhBYCLesZ9wO7cbOQZTFBqDqK52tbNCIkM6jdQUSDya0_qzup75NKpVh-IeynNQdsCoXSlYg_-MDoJct7ejAkh1Pb36MWi8gGT/s1600/118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjza_MBEEtMtYxa2Hh-XZU9YFSqYmAOzhRu25Hi-SgqsTzhBYCLesZ9wO7cbOQZTFBqDqK52tbNCIkM6jdQUSDya0_qzup75NKpVh-IeynNQdsCoXSlYg_-MDoJct7ejAkh1Pb36MWi8gGT/s1600/118.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I'm kicking "normal" to the curb.<br />
<br />
Normal isn't.<br />
<br />
There's no such thing.<br />
<br />
It's actually just whatever I happen to be comfortable with <u>at the moment</u>.<br />
<br />
And that's not necessarily completely informed or thought out. Or maybe it is but then two years from now I have new information and experiences and "normal" has changed.<br />
<br />
Normal hems in and boxes up.<br />
<br />
Normal makes me live with "shoulds" and makes me feel guilty when I don't live up to that arbitrary line.<br />
<br />
And, why am I striving for "normal" when I would never use that word to describe who I am?<br />
<br />
Crazy. Busy, Creative. Quiet. Thoughtful. Intelligent. Balancing on the edge of a full on breakdown...<br />
<br />
Normal isn't even in the running.<br />
<br />
So, I'm really working on banishing that word from my vocabulary in favor of a million other more accurate descriptions.<br />
<br />
Because the nuances in my life give it color and meaning that is far more than normal.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg22bi93RPGR3Zft35N1pQNI0kqKgt0NBvoTQZUkN03DN-xwAQ_T1LoraefSRNU8kei8DBQxNPOT3P2CdDuLd3nNwhOnGTcsl_osvexfah47z6YrLtutt5kxbB5ZKgViwLdq6KHUSLDzDlH/s1600/176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg22bi93RPGR3Zft35N1pQNI0kqKgt0NBvoTQZUkN03DN-xwAQ_T1LoraefSRNU8kei8DBQxNPOT3P2CdDuLd3nNwhOnGTcsl_osvexfah47z6YrLtutt5kxbB5ZKgViwLdq6KHUSLDzDlH/s1600/176.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-32517608339652570132014-10-13T07:44:00.003-07:002014-10-13T07:44:55.477-07:00Don't DrownI have been systematically dismantling the safe structures around me; the visible and unseen. <br />
<br />
Once I said "I want to be comfortable, but not too comfortable. I think we should actively look to disrupt our lives." Then I took my words literally... <br />
<br />
As I'm wont to do, I tend to mull things over and over. Carefully thinking through all of the possibilities (whether this is in building a story or restructuring my life...it's all the same). Then, one day, I jump. Into the deep end. Then I try to find my way to the surface while also trying to remember to keep a look out for the undersea beauty. Oh, and not drown.<br />
<br />
So, if I ever am quiet and still, don't be fooled. It's mass chaos inside my head.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2RCDzpp36-Wuiu5T91O5zZHDSl1aocPR4t1flakvhkFvwc0x5mC2_877GAm7T_reWMNlrBl-XiuflLeZZq9PdPzu2sTuJPg4tLdTWzt5dS62PiJW2yFancCMu5gBFbfUefKzKkrBIF9p0/s1600/stairs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2RCDzpp36-Wuiu5T91O5zZHDSl1aocPR4t1flakvhkFvwc0x5mC2_877GAm7T_reWMNlrBl-XiuflLeZZq9PdPzu2sTuJPg4tLdTWzt5dS62PiJW2yFancCMu5gBFbfUefKzKkrBIF9p0/s1600/stairs.jpg" height="400" width="400" /><br />Where to go...</a></div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-53326459649073196902014-09-22T02:00:00.000-07:002014-09-22T06:54:55.128-07:00Perseverance, Sweat, and PrideSix months ago I listed a bunch of activities that The Princess could choose from to participate in. Much to my surprise she chose Karate. Upon arrival at her first lesson (at the business closest to our home, because I wasn't going to drive a long ways on a whim!) I found out that they also had classes for three year olds. And, since I felt bad for Sweet Pea whose life was basically defined by tagging along on her older sister's life, I signed her up too. <br />
<br />
Unbeknownst to me, I signed up for the family plan. The family plan that included free classes for parents... "Oh, that's a nice," I thought.<br />
<br />
But I am budget minded, and FREE classes just really shouldn't be wasted, so I sent Steve off to his first class.<br />
<br />
When he came back he made me promise I'd go the next night so, with MUCH trepidation, I went. Not to Karate classes - those are just for the kids. I'd somehow signed up for Krav Maga classes.<br />
<br />
Oh, you've never heard of it? Neither had I... My first class involved a twenty minute death trial that the instructors jokingly called a "warm-up", a quick stretch, and then 30 minutes of learning how to punch correctly ("you're punching THROUGH the jaw, you can dislocate it right here...") and get out of a choke hold.<br />
<br />
Seriously, have you ever even thought about getting out of a random choke hold around your neck?<br />
<br />
It was totally crazy and totally intriguing and so I went back a second time. And a third. And then I bought an extra shirt (cause you have to wear the right attire, duh). And then I started getting twitchy if something messed with my schedule. I even skipped a couple of naptimes to go to the noon class because I wasn't going to make it to the evening one. (She's ALMOST 4, she can handle it!! I rationalize well.)<br />
<br />
Which brings us to six months later.<br />
<br />
I spent 3 1/2 hours in a Krav Maga qualifier to advance to a yellow belt status this past Saturday. I haven't been that nervous in a long time. Nervous for a week in advance. Nervous enough to make stupid mistakes at practice. Nervous enough to choke down food when I wanted to throw it up. Nervous enough to stand at the door and wait for my partner's arrival (we've been practicing together for three months. She's THE BEST!) and hug before we proceeded to punch, kick and choke each other.<br />
<br />
At the end we were all shaking, nerves annihilated by exhaustion. We had bruises, scratches, black eyes and jammed fingers. And I accomplished something that was never even on my "to-do" list. Next week I go back, theoretically capable enough to don headgear, pads, and gloves to learn how to kick, punch, and defend myself even more. And I'm pretty excited about it!<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyLoayvRjmLIeHXv9-LgEB27u6ySlBA5B-CHAlcMHKbpNhFWSqySD3wZOE4GbQpzpcuStunEFIsEjK365JXzQ9GD1O2mSkLM9E83H32HzZhX6LnYTPDqdnVw0kdCF_xzscw66si-9j_1Fi/s1600/20140920_125612%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyLoayvRjmLIeHXv9-LgEB27u6ySlBA5B-CHAlcMHKbpNhFWSqySD3wZOE4GbQpzpcuStunEFIsEjK365JXzQ9GD1O2mSkLM9E83H32HzZhX6LnYTPDqdnVw0kdCF_xzscw66si-9j_1Fi/s1600/20140920_125612%5B1%5D.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJ6ih6axhoFN-tKkSEHTvzw7PC3sgx2KDYhFMXOlNejDV8FKTfHdBLA3QNi5Grfx1wkfgkGC9QFUAsIN5aJY_r7TE3_0PCZYr11X4JfOYZOhKzWr3XZxedMSLN4pkhuv0pfDeM-0YXMce/s1600/20140920_125912%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJ6ih6axhoFN-tKkSEHTvzw7PC3sgx2KDYhFMXOlNejDV8FKTfHdBLA3QNi5Grfx1wkfgkGC9QFUAsIN5aJY_r7TE3_0PCZYr11X4JfOYZOhKzWr3XZxedMSLN4pkhuv0pfDeM-0YXMce/s1600/20140920_125912%5B1%5D.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-90201558355653397372014-09-15T02:00:00.000-07:002014-09-15T02:00:07.984-07:00FriendThere are good friends.<br />
<br />
There are friends who are there through thick and thin.<br />
<br />
There are friends who adopt you as family.<br />
<br />
And I am so thankful for each and every variety.<br />
<br />
Friendship is such a gift.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDsRnLXLSlCKhwzNLU5UGwy1_7kj7mEzf3anMYgkQBaw9drOZLbJ24RtZZnhamj9J8n5wwc8wgackJI7tlXKgYLkjbYZJCD8ab-n3KGEMiv_CAFCrB3q88Hmahl8aC3nUgCgizedHgW7jt/s1600/dragon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDsRnLXLSlCKhwzNLU5UGwy1_7kj7mEzf3anMYgkQBaw9drOZLbJ24RtZZnhamj9J8n5wwc8wgackJI7tlXKgYLkjbYZJCD8ab-n3KGEMiv_CAFCrB3q88Hmahl8aC3nUgCgizedHgW7jt/s1600/dragon.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a><br />Sometimes friends just sit in support...</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-23095598771962713602014-08-29T07:55:00.001-07:002014-08-29T07:55:30.851-07:00Sudden<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">GIF credit to </span><a href="http://morgainependragon.tumblr.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-small;">MorgainePendragon</span></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> on Tumblr </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(If you're not a Buffy fan we should have a serious discussion about your life choices... However, that's not the point of this particular post.)</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">During my last year of high school I cried myself to sleep
every night during the month of March. I was leaving home for college that
coming September and mourned in anticipation. And then I mourned again when I
actually got there, for all of the same reasons and for all new ones too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We try to prepare ourselves. Visualize the scenarios, plan
the course of action, and imagine what it will feel like and how we will react.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We know the facts, we know the steps, we know what’s coming
and still, with all of the preparation, there is the moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Toe up to the line we could see coming, the one drawn with “someday”
in mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pause in the breath between then and now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Step over the edge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And it’s an entirely different world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-11255230972084714002014-07-03T02:00:00.000-07:002014-07-03T06:52:17.130-07:00World Cup ConnectionsIt was just another normal day at work where I ride down the hill on the tram to spend 20 to 30 minutes waiting at the research pharmacy to pick up medication for a patient. This time, however, Germany was playing Portugal and the score was already ridiculous - 3-0 Germany. I checked the score, since I had nothing else to do, and was shocked to see that Germany had scored again. My surprised intake of breath caught the attention of the man also waiting and playing with his phone.<br />
<br />
Now, normally I would have exchanged a polite smile and returned to my private bubble. I'm not that great with small talk and I work under the all encompassing HIPPA regulations; it's just easier to politely keep to yourself. <br />
<br />
"Germany just scored again." I blurted out instead and his eyebrows rose in surprise.<br />
"You're watching the World Cup?" I don't really look like a soccer/futbol fan I guess.<br />
<br />
And then we started chatting like old friends with different accents, comparing notes on teams and commiserating on our countries', Mexico and the USA, poor chances for making it past the first round. I told him that we're watching all the games on Univision and working on our Spanish and he directed me to the Univision app so that I could watch the games on my phone (which is what he'd been doing).<br />
<br />
It was a connection that wouldn't have been made except for the world-wide excitement about The Cup. <br />
<br />
I've thought of him while cheering Mexico on in each of their games (even though a win over the Netherlands would have completely broken my bracket!) and wondered if he remembered me when the US played each of their heart attack inducing games.<br />
<br />
I don't think the game can save the world. But, oh does it open doors for some human interaction. And the <a href="http://www.keepacookie.blogspot.com/2010/06/goooaaaaallll.html" target="_blank">bridging of different worlds</a>, that is a small step in the right direction.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-68774030295885925692014-06-30T02:00:00.000-07:002014-06-30T02:00:02.443-07:00World Cup 2014Can I tell you how much I LOVE the World Cup? Despite the ridiculous and awful <a href="http://www.slate.com/blogs/the_spot/2014/06/09/john_oliver_fifa_rant_the_last_week_tonight_host_digresses_beautifully_on.html" target="_blank">FIFA corporation</a>?<br />
<br />
Three Reasons:<br />
<br />
1. My brother and I have long conversations (in person and over email) about players, games, our bracket picks, and current outrages. It's so awesome! Plus, the 30 minute conversation with my sister about soccer and the fact that two old guys were TOTALLY eavesdropping on the entire thing is icing on the cake!<br />
<br />
2. The Princess is totally into the games. To the point where, when going upstairs for quiet time, she reminds me to update her should any team score! (I had to update her twice during the France-Switzerland game. If you don't know what I'm talking about you missed a completely BIZARRE game.)<br />
<br />
3. Immersion language lessons as we're watching all the games on Univision because they're streaming them for free. (I'm looking at you ESPN who requires a cable subscription. Shame on you!)<br />
<br />
I know there are politics involved, I know there is corruption, I know there is stupidity...but for 90 minutes it's just about the joy of the game. And the certainty that you're ACTUALLY going to die from a heart attack by the end.<br />
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Watching the game first thing in the morning.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-43507995247928798462014-06-23T02:00:00.000-07:002014-06-23T02:00:00.769-07:00SolitaryThis girl loves her solitary moments. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLtVCjnX4ysklC9to5imwXFW0up5CW8KWlYRz0j0ErFjFoyKSY2plk3wkEqXCZymWYAjFT7yT-NaKxCHZdvq27jP7c6ZVO2sLinCBtnnwa71tpXo-aWtMImOVBgJh4bSJnC6p2UYkjSAwR/s1600/104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLtVCjnX4ysklC9to5imwXFW0up5CW8KWlYRz0j0ErFjFoyKSY2plk3wkEqXCZymWYAjFT7yT-NaKxCHZdvq27jP7c6ZVO2sLinCBtnnwa71tpXo-aWtMImOVBgJh4bSJnC6p2UYkjSAwR/s1600/104.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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I completely understand, even when I'm trying to provide "socialization" for her - because that's an important skill too.</div>
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Basically, we like to be solitary together.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibz19piV3F1PT6sRtJTEhCUPsUUSjHtqlShR5IU2qbIW3zIIW8-naZDHvyQ2cQIsRwCGdeT4Zi3Qa8wIDv690QwGEmLyicWzPT_9Iky7g4Y5NayLzpVtxZsQIG55jOQTPOAZePXbhyphenhypheneKoG/s1600/119.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibz19piV3F1PT6sRtJTEhCUPsUUSjHtqlShR5IU2qbIW3zIIW8-naZDHvyQ2cQIsRwCGdeT4Zi3Qa8wIDv690QwGEmLyicWzPT_9Iky7g4Y5NayLzpVtxZsQIG55jOQTPOAZePXbhyphenhypheneKoG/s1600/119.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Which is a lovely sentiment.<br />
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-89003096936026899012014-06-19T02:00:00.000-07:002014-06-19T02:00:06.565-07:00MagicThere is magic outside. <br />
<br />
You just have to get out in it.<br />
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Fort Vancouver, Washington. </div>
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June 2014</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-34405185009254160662014-06-16T02:00:00.001-07:002014-06-16T02:00:02.298-07:00Lenten JourneyI've been thinking about Lent.<br />
<br />
Yes, it's June and I'm still in March. But that's the way of things, time marches on but the brain takes longer to work through things.<br />
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh12X2PRxR7H6eA9KSLpLhYZACVb95DOuxF_ezJyYnEhvGyEB-f3zVPJLJwl7q9NKMuQ5xzu3BM_ZqyJTdnIGbiLfvZoi0gXyWsJEe9IEc5svgi9P6P404DUTWu4D3OTr8DQ76jsV-nYm7B/s1600/006.JPG" height="400" width="266" /><br />It's a journey</div>
<br />
I've always liked the idea of Lent, the time of contemplation, deprivation, and the possibility of inspiration. It's the opportunity to lose a tiny bit of self during the everydayness of life.<br />
<br />
But Lent is also possible because we know the end result. The miracle, the resurrection, the new life is in the back of your mind as you work through another day. Haven't we all comforted ourselves with the final 10-day countdown until it all can go back to normal? We make it through the mourning, the black day, the empty day, the questions and unknowns because we know that there is an end, right around the corner.<br />
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I thought I was going to have the perfect Lenten inspirational post, how after 40 days the path was clear, the way straight, the end in sight. But instead, the waiting continues. There's no clear destination, no straight answers, no questions wrapped up and tied with a perfectly wrapped bow.<br />
<br />
Which, of course, is what the first "Lenten Journey" was like. The disciples had no idea what the end would be, there were no answers to their life upending questions. They didn't know it would be "just" 3 days before their waiting would end. They didn't know that the end of waiting was just the beginning of a new normal that they could have never anticipated and would scramble to acclimate to.<br />
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We're still waiting. Still wondering. Still living with hope and fear messily mixed together in a gradually congealing new normal we don't yet recognize. It is frustrating, it is scary, it is faith at work, no matter how small each step may be.<br />
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Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-49142939589429935272014-06-03T07:33:00.000-07:002014-06-03T07:33:32.654-07:00InterludeTrying to get back into the swing of things... <br />
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Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-4556907147785727672014-04-14T02:00:00.000-07:002014-04-13T22:26:47.122-07:00FragileFragility is scary. That risk of shattering into pieces so tiny they can never be fit back together. Shards that pierce your heart, your soul. Fragments that burrow in deep, cutting apart millimeter by excruciating millimeter. <br />
<br />
Better to be tough and protected. Practical and sturdy. I'll trade my bone china for dishwasher safe, microwave safe, ovenproof crockery.<br />
<br />
But it's a lie, this safety. It crumbles around you. Hearts shatter, souls explode. There is no protection from life. There is just the delicate balance of living with risk, with fear...with possibility.<br />
<br />
The risk of being broken on the floor, bleeding out from soul deep wounds, is also the risk of discovering the true essence of yourself; the strength, wisdom, sheer grit and unanticipated beauty that comes from rebuilding, as unfair and unwanted as the reconstruction may be. <br />
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There is beauty in the rough edges, the cracks and seams, the missing gaps where pieces were lost and never found.<br />
<br />
Because, there <em>are</em> gaps and lost parts - crevices that are never filled or covered over. But maybe it's the cracks where the gust of thankfulness rushes through. <br />
<br />
Maybe it's the gap where the whirlwind of wonder forms. <br />
<br />
Maybe it's the vibration in the fracture that makes us recognize and sing with the exquisite pleasure of each beautifully fragile moment of time that we're given. Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-29520371197519501332014-03-28T07:24:00.000-07:002014-03-28T07:24:22.252-07:00My First
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My mom is sick. Look both ways at the cross walk and get hit
by a truck anyway sick. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m scared. Scared to think, scared to feel, scared not to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My mother is my First. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My first sound was her heartbeat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My first movement was the sway of her walk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My first touch was the warmth of her body.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My first.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There is a connection that can’t be severed by time,
distance, or independence. A cellular connection, a oneness with the feelings
of the other. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is beyond empathy,
beyond thought, beyond explanation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is the bond of joint ownership of kidneys and blood. It
is the anxiety of separation and the relief of being in the same room together.
It is the timing of my breath with hers, the deep inhale listening for rattles,
the exhale when nothing is heard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My brain is rational, digesting facts and figures with keen
interest and pleasure. My heart is emotion, big wave after small wave crashing
in a tumble of fear and hope. But my cells just know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">She is my only.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-45497813574010133442014-01-23T13:33:00.001-08:002014-01-23T13:33:51.241-08:00PredatorSo, The Princess isn't really into dolls, fairies, or even princesses anymore. She's completely in love with animals. All animals, insects, reptiles, extinct dinosaurs are on her list but when she plays pretend she almost always chooses to be some type of predator.<br />
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I am now very adept at holding a stuffed animal out at arms length so that the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caracal" target="_blank">Caracal </a>in the house can practice her jumping techniques to catch her prey...<br />
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A Lion once bit me in the butt in the kitchen.<br />
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Sweetpea is often roped into playing the "prey" and runs shrieking through the house while the Cheetah nips at her heels.<br />
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After being roped into being a Polar Bear I was informed that the Killer Whale would rip my arms and legs off easily because of the rows of sharp teeth.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyBlov1OUkENbUJEMLHBoCrAPOR7yyqi6KF10VtdRRigqParvZOdssm-FGz6Zz4unq-4X6lrFBa0bL9f_J4M5zKuuiuWm2Fo17uPPM6l5hRozRqwDG8A5M-cQxU5CfgPyjS2LX8nwn1Oc4/s1600/woodpecker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyBlov1OUkENbUJEMLHBoCrAPOR7yyqi6KF10VtdRRigqParvZOdssm-FGz6Zz4unq-4X6lrFBa0bL9f_J4M5zKuuiuWm2Fo17uPPM6l5hRozRqwDG8A5M-cQxU5CfgPyjS2LX8nwn1Oc4/s1600/woodpecker.jpg" height="400" width="400" /><br />She's holding a stuffed woodpecker. <br />What's the natural predator for a woodpecker?</a></div>
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And then... <br />
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At her school presentation this week The Princess brought her stuffed seal to talk about. The stuffed seal that is the size of her younger sister and is wearing a tutu. She didn't tell me what the presentation content would be but I assumed, considering the tutu, that it would involve a nice story about sleeping with and dancing with her favorite seal.<br />
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"Hi my name is ________ and today I would like to tell you about my seal. This is my stuffed seal and I like to sleep with her at night. She has spots because she is a leopard seal. She lives in the Arctic and she eats penguins."<br />
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The end.<br />
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No mention of the tutu or dancing or that they're cute with big eye-lashed eyes. Then one of her classmates asked her if she had a stuffed penguin.<br />
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"No. She ate it." <br />
<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-40529868898138328472014-01-13T14:17:00.002-08:002014-01-13T14:17:55.062-08:00Spring Fever (It might just be wool fibers lodged in my lungs)Where have I been? Oh, where have I been...<br />
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I am neck deep in the retail world and about a season ahead of everyone else. Last night I was dismantling and revamping an entire store. What this meant for me specifically is, among other things, sorting and hanging rugs. Some of them weighed more than I do, no joke. And I had to haul them up a ladder (with one other petite girl) and then clip them to hanging racks. We were both covered in a fine dust, actual dirt, and wool fibers that stuck to our sweaty skin. It's a glamorous job, don't be fooled.<br />
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Once finished we hied ourselves over to the candle shop where we moved an entire wall of candles, floor to ceiling to a different part of the wall. Candles aren't lightweight either.<br />
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All this to say that, while I actually enjoy the organizing part, I didn't expect quite so much heavy lifting.<br />
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Spring is right around the corner people. You might not see it yet but it's in creation at a retail store near you as we speak!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-67836365030126696052014-01-06T14:09:00.001-08:002014-01-06T14:09:50.079-08:00A Good Morning<br />
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<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-11162027167721949992013-12-30T11:04:00.000-08:002013-12-30T11:04:42.058-08:00Soul Food<b>Things that are nourishing me right now:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Lattes </li>
<li>Giant bear hugs from Sweetpea. She has quite a grip whether it's around my knees or my neck.</li>
<li>My running group. Getting up at 5:30 to run is pure torture, especially in the cold. But, having a group of women to run with and who gracefully bear with my sporadic availability is worth it every single time I can be there. Plus, it's an extra boost of energy which is greatly needed right now (goes right along with the caffeine)</li>
<li>Free, worry-free, generously available childcare from my mom and dad.</li>
<li>"Removing myself from any form of reality" books.</li>
<li>Random and numerous facts The Princess shares with me.</li>
<li>Two small children sleeping together in the top bunk because the little one is anxious and lonely in her new big bottom bunk.</li>
<li>Retail shifts that involve me organizing for 5 hours straight. (You want the wall of clearance items completely revamped? Yay!) </li>
<li>A lot of chocolate (good thing for the running!)</li>
</ul>
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<b>Things that are sucking the life right out of me:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Continued lack of employment for Steve.</li>
<li>Sweetpea asking if I'm going to be there when she wakes up because so often I'm not.</li>
<li>Any type of sickness that threatens the delicate balance I've got going on right now. </li>
</ul>
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The length of lists is at a good ratio at least. Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-71892455752849817362013-12-16T02:00:00.000-08:002013-12-16T02:00:06.000-08:00NuanceAs a stay at home mom it's sometimes hard to live with the day in, day out monotony of the never-ending chores, nose wiping, question answering, meal making and laundry. Sometimes you get bogged down in the, what feels like, drudgery.<br />
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But, I've been out of the monotony for 2 months now. And, when you're not in the monotony you also miss the little nuances, the tiny changes in speech, the quirk of the brow when a little one suddenly understands that they can make a joke, the new facts they know, the change in the color of their hair.<br />
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I miss knowing the nuances.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-33190658207218785232013-12-09T02:00:00.000-08:002013-12-09T02:00:04.329-08:00A Little Bit of AttitudeThis one is starting to show her own fashion ideas. Taking after her <a href="http://www.keepacookie.blogspot.com/2012/02/30-seconds.html" target="_blank">sister</a> (maybe her mother too!)<br />
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Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-9874828046864714672013-12-06T02:00:00.000-08:002013-12-06T02:00:07.530-08:00A Princess, a bear, and Rody<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-49812209247868688162013-12-03T02:00:00.000-08:002013-12-03T02:00:06.579-08:00Skeleton ReaderThis girl always finds a comfortable spot to read.<br />
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Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-88557958266638327572013-11-27T02:00:00.000-08:002013-11-27T02:00:09.736-08:00Taunting Me In Her SleepNo, she's not hiding. This is how she sleeps. Every night I have to go in, pull the blanket off her face and make sure she's still breathing. Yet another example of how the "self-preservation" gene is just a myth.<br />
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Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932069468396633345.post-44743487045599374002013-11-25T02:00:00.001-08:002013-11-25T02:00:04.781-08:00Wild EyedSo right now I'm living on lattes and adrenaline. Which means that I'll probably look like this when you see me. <br />
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It's rather exhilarating.<br />
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When I'm not working, this is what I look like.<br />
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<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17285537502589130920noreply@blogger.com0