Limping In A Winter Wonderland

I dread this time of year. For many reasons. It is as if Father Time is hell bent on getting to, and then through the fourth quarter while the rest of us are merely innocent bystanders as we slide into the home plate known as New Year’s Day.

It seems like we all get so distracted by getting through the holidays, we completely lose sight of what is important. Even with months of warning, the fourth quarter “sneaks up on me” every year. How many years do I have to live before I will plan better? How many years will I find myself saying “I can’t believe it is almost Halloween”, “Thanksgiving”, and finally “Christmas”.

Nearly a decade ago, I vowed I would not enter Wal-Mart between Halloween and the New Year. I doubt I need to explain the rationale behind this vow but that won't stop me.  It all started one year I was almost assaulted at the Wal-Mart in Roeland Park Kansas during the season of “giving”. That woman was giving all right. She was giving me the what-for when I had the last of an item that she wanted. In addition, the carts are too big and the aisles are too small. To put it simply, there is not enough room for “both” of us there. At this point, people in my life have gotten used to stocking stuffers from the gas station by now.

To add to my bah-hum-bug attitude, I despise cold weather. This is a little more than my constant inner debate with myself about why I moved from the fabulous sunshine state. This is the dread I feel anticipating the first cold snap. The dread I feel from my left ankle all the way to my left hip.

When I was first diagnosed with RA in 2005 I laughed. Don’t get me wrong, I think the world of my orthopedic surgeon and my rheumatologist. I just thought they had the wrong girl, or the wrong chart. Over the years however, I have slowly conceded, much like Wal-Mart in Roeland Park.

I need to make something clear. My pain is nothing compared to some; but it can be everything to me. My first flare up has been the worst to date. I can recall begging Brad to take me to the hospital and have them do something. Anything. At my lowest point, I swore amputation was not out of the question. Looking back, I realize I was being dramatic. In my defense though, my knee was a big grapefruit. A big, black grapefruit.

The worst part about my version of RA is the waiting period; those eight blissful months between “potential” flareups. On the flip side though, their timing and characteristics are pretty predictable, so I can prepare myself.

While I wait in wonder this season, I will focus on stuffing stockings with goodies for the boys and not stuffing a brace with what is left of my left knee.

Twitter makes me love those I haven't met. Facebook makes me hate those I know in real life.

If you are anything like me, you have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. I fought it as long as I could and finally joined back in 2008. As Facebook evolved, I began to use it more and more for work while managing various business pages. What annoys me about Facebook is the constant self-promotion by those that obviously need affirmation that they are attractive, smart, or funny. I also get a little irked when married people communicate with each other on their respective "walls". Can you not walk down the hall or into the kitchen and tell your partner what you need to say? Is it really necessary to piss so much on your territory that I can smell it on my computer?

I read an article recently about the amount of narcissism on Facebook. The article says "Narcissistic tendencies in many people fuels a need to have a large group of 'friends' link to their pages and many of these people accept cyber-friends that they don’t even know" . I know you have a few of what I like to call “friend whores” on your list of “friends”. They will friend everyone they meet; no one is exempt from their reach. From grocery store lines to the shower at the gym, they will “friend” you.

Which brings up something else to consider. Do you think Facebook has devalued the term “friend”? Sure, I know all of the people on my Facebook page. Some I have known nearly all my life and some are new acquaintances. Some only keep up with my through Facebook and others I see on a regular basis and have a deeper understanding of the person I am today.

Another article I read notes for the average narcissist, Facebook "offers a gateway for hundreds of shallow relationships and emotionally detached communication."; More importantly for this study, social networking in general allows the user a great deal of control over how he or she is presented to and perceived by peers and other users.

Maybe this is why I do not like Facebook. Maybe it is because I am comfortable in my own skin and want others to feel the same way. It takes a lot of time and effort to create and maintain the perception people are presenting on Facebook.  I don't think I could maintain that facade very long without losing it on some level.  I would probably have to lock myself up in my house due to fear that I might run in to someone in real life that would call me out.  Frankly I prefer real people that admit they are not perfect because I certainly am not.  The only perfect person I know of died on a cross.

Get your facts first, and then you can distort them as much as you please.

Some of my fellow “Christians” are disappointing me. Again. This time the subject is divorced women. Why is it, when I go to church the married women treat me as if I am not invited to the party? Have any of you divorced women experienced this? You know what I am talking about. Just because I am divorced does not mean I want your husband. I literally had a woman tell me they were not comfortable hanging out anymore because I am a threat to them now. Do their husbands tell divorced dads the same thing? Do their husbands say to their divorced friends, “dude, we can’t hang out anymore because I am afraid you are going to snatch my wife from me”. Adding to my frustration is when the person throwing the stones has been DIVORCED too!

Now, for some reason when a single dad enters church, or any other place for that matter, he is treated as if he is a saint. “Oh, poor guy. He is a single dad doing his best to raise his kids the best he can”. I guess they forgot I am a single mom doing my best to raise my boys.

Is it because I was the one that “filed” for the divorce (I suppose in this case they forget that marriage includes two people that contribute to the success or demise of the relationship)? Is it because they take Mathew too literally, when it says:

“It has been said, ‘Anyone who divorces his wife must give her a certificate of divorce. But I tell you that anyone who divorces his wife, except for marital unfaithfulness, causes her to become an adulteress, and anyone who marries the divorced woman commits adultery.

I suppose if they are taking the passage literally, they would agree that men too, would be committing adultery if they remarry. Maybe it is because they are just hypocritical busy bodies that would rather throw stones at me while they live in their glass houses?

I’m gonna go with the latter and let me tell you why. After a brief hiatus from church due to traveling and the death of my mother, I returned with my boys one Sunday morning in the Spring. Upon entering the children’s room, a woman approached me and whispered she had heard about what happened and wondered how I was doing. I thanked her for her concern and added losing my mother was hands down the most difficult thing I had ever been through. With eyes as big as silver dollars guess what she said. Wait for it.

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea your mom died”. I smiled at her and said "Oh, you must be talking about my divorce".

Other than seeing this woman at church, I did not socialize with this woman. I did not confide in her about my personal life. Apparently, I did not have to. The other busy bodies at church can spread my news for me. Well if you are going to talk about me, tell the whole story. While your airing my dirty laundry you might consider washing yours too.

You Can't Handle The Truth

Everyone has trying times. We all experience loss in one form or another. These events can happen to us one at a time like a slow leak or they can come at us all at once like a roof caving in. The great thing about being human is that we can all empathize with each other during strife and triumph. Not everyone handles success well. I have met a few people that actually sabotage their own success because they do not feel they deserve it. Fortunately I am not one of those people, I deserve every bit of it! Not everyone handles stress well. On the other hand, some of us shine brighter than ever when they are in a pressure cooker.

Problems are not really the problem. Coping is the problem. Not everyone is equipped with the necessary tools to get through the times that challenge them. I used to be the type of person that, under stress, would withdrawal from others. My theory was “why do I want to bother others with this”, this is my deal. What I have learned over the last few years is that these are the times I need to reach out even more than usual. Of course I am selective to whom I reach out, not everyone can handle the truth about other’s vulnerabilities.

After one particular year of growth, I had many friends say to me they could not imagine how I got through it. A divorce, the death of my mom, job loss, and a whole lot of heartache can test the strongest among us. Although I understood what they meant, I think what they should have said was “How did you get through it”.

For those that cannot tell the difference between the statement and the question, let me elaborate. The statement focuses on the situation. The question focuses on the person. I admit I am guilty of this too. I want to show my compassion but I do not want to bring up a sore subject. Are we all so self absorbed we do not realize there is a difference? Is it that no one wants to hear it? Are we afraid of what we will hear? Do we think what we hear will make us look at ourselves in a way we may not like?

No man is an island. If we would stop and listen to others, we might learn something about them, and maybe ourselves.

Let's Be Honest Here

I registered for our local Making Strides against Breast Cancer walk months ago. Maybe it was weeks. Either way, I had plenty of time to raise awareness and funds. I also had time to talk to my boys about Breast Cancer, and why we walk. G-Man asked big boy questions like “what is fund raising” and “what is charity”. He also asked about Cancer and how the doctors help those that are sick. The Babe asked the exact question I expected from him; “what are breasts”. You can imagine how delighted both boys were to hear me say “boobs”. They ran around saying “breasts, breasts, breasts”. Typical boys.

The three of us talked about the walk for days before it was scheduled. The morning of, the boys gathered their toys and snacks for their “walk” in the wagon while we all donned our pink. What I did not have time for during my preparation, was to reflect. I participate in stuff like this all the time so I did not think this time was any different. However, I never stopped to think about how it would feel when the volunteer handed me a sticker that said, “I walk for ______________”, let alone when I actually filled it in. I did not think about the questions the boys would ask about Mom on the drive to the walk. I was not prepared for my oldest son to look at me as I am filling out papers and stickers and say to me “I walk for you Mommy”. Can he possibly understand what he is saying?

The walk was only a 5k so they boys took turns in the wagon while the adults took turns pulling it. When I was not making sure the boys were warm enough, or not too hot, I thought. I thought about my mom, and her mom. I thought about all of the people at the event that donated time and money. I thought about how much I wished I could have spent that morning with my mom.

These events tend to bring out the community in some that otherwise know nothing of the concept. I acknowledge many participate in these events because they are good hearted. Some do it for recognition. Everyone has his or her own agenda. With that in mind, many people I spoke with that day; whether friends, volunteers, or otherwise, thanked me for walking. It was fine the first few times I heard it but after a while, it bothered me. I did not do it for them. I did not do it for recognition. Frankly, I did not do it for my mom. There are moments I feel my mom more closely than other days. That day was one of them. I will do whatever I can to feel her presence.

So truth be told, I walked for myself.

The Alibi App

If you don't know what Facebook Places is, thanks for crawling out from underneath your fav rock to join us.

According to Facebook: "Places is a Facebook feature that allows you to see where your friends are and share your location in the real world. When you use Places, you'll be able to see if any of your friends are currently checked in nearby and connect with them easily. You can check into nearby Places to tell your friends where you are, tag your friends in the Places you visit, and view comments your friends have made about the Places you visit. Use Places to experience connecting with people on Facebook in a completely new way."

My first reaction to this application was that I really don't want othes knowing THAT much about me.  It is bad enough I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook but now people are telling me there every move.  I was much happier when they just updated their status every few seconds with the mundane tasks of daily life.

After I finished my mental rant I realized this application could be used for good and evil.  Sure you can see where friends are connect with them easily.  I can not imagine I am the first one to think of this as "the alibi app".  Think about it.  A teenager tells his parents he is at the school football game and as such, checks in there.  In reality, Little Johnny is reeking havoc with his friends in his girlfriend's basement while her parents are out of town.

What about the husband that tells his wife he is working late and checks in on Places accordingly.  In reality he is loosing his shirt at the local casino.  As to not sound sexist; what about the wife that tells her hubs she is going to the gym but in reality is out spending the college fund at the mall.

I know this idea is not new, I just don't like giving up that much info about my where-abouts.  Don't look for me to check in anytime soon.

It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it. ~Aristotle

This may come as a surprise to some of you, but there once was a time in my life when I was easily dismissed.  I would allow others to convince me that my opinion was either not accurate, or better yet, I would be lead to believe that it wasn't really my opinion at all.  To help you understand, I offer this illustration:

Child: "Mommy, I want to go outside and play in the snow"

Mommy: "Honey, it is too cold to go outside right now, you don't want to go out there"

Child: Hmm.  I could have sworn I wanted to go outside and play in the snow.  This big person seems to know everything else, maybe I don't want to go outside after all.

The above is just an example, but imagine if this scenario is something the child experiences often enough that it becomes a part of their being.  They allow others to tell them what they want.  What they should do for a living.  What their opinions are.  I had no idea that even did this until I got on the roller coaster ride of events that occurred during the last couple of years.  They say awareness is the key.  So here we are.

This is not to say that I run around town on a soapbox telling everyone what I think all the time.  I'm not making decisions willy nilly like, without thinking of the effects those decisions have on others.  What I am saying is that I don't mind rockin the boat sometimes.  I do try to pick my battles wisely.  Frankly some things just aren't worth the fight, with myself or others.  There are a few subjects that are exempt from my self censor though.  Now you, my lucky reader, get to hear my rant about one of these subjects.

Smokers. (Said with slight disdain and a snarled lip)

I am not a smoker, nor have I ever been a smoker.  Sure, I puffed on a few back in high school and college while I as out with friends.  I just don't never picked up on the allure of this habit.  I don't understand how people keep smoking knowing it makes them smell, their teeth yellow, it discolors their home, makes their car smell, and not to mention IT WILL KILL THEM.  It's a minor detail but I thought I would mention it.

I have very few friends that smoke.  I can count on one hand the people in my life that have made a decision to harm their health and those with whom they come in contact.   What baffles me, is these people I know that smoke are good people.  They have jobs, contribute to society and raise their kids well.  They generally make good decisions, and yet they smoke.  Let's talk about how this decision affects their children.

• The adult decreases the amount of time they get to spend with the child.  The adult might be hiding while smoking and is cutting years off their life by smoking.


• Lets say the adult is hiding while they smoke...what does that say to the child about the habit?


• The adult is cutting years off the child's life by smoking in front of them or in the home.  Statistics show that children with smoking parents are twice as likely to start smoking between age 13 and 21.


• The adult is wasting good money that could go in a college fund.

None of this is to say I think smokers are bad people. On the contrary, my mother was one of the very best people I knew.  That was before she DIED  before her 59th birthday because her LUNG CANCER spread to her brain.  I know smoking is an addictive habit that is hard to kick.  I don't care what people do as long as it is not harming others.  You want to kill yourself?  More power to ya.  The issue I have is when adults make a decision to harm the kids that have no control over the situation.  Should I be so bold to consider it child abuse?

Think about this the next time you light up or a loved one does.