Do you love me enough?

This past weekend I felt like I did at least of year’s worth of growing up. It was exhausting, humbling and an emotional roller coaster ride.

My Grandfather died, while I was in the room, talking to him. Right in front of my eyes he let go, I felt his soul leave; goose bumps covered my flesh, tears, panic and somewhere deep inside relief came over me.

I don’t do death, I haven’t for over 12 years, and sure death has come and been a part of my life, like everyone’s I suppose. But I have avoided it at all costs, due to my fear and an overwhelming need to protect myself.

On Thursday I got the call, Grandpa was sick, I told my mother that no, I wouldn’t be going to say goodbye. But sometime later that night I could hear my Grandfather’s voice asking, “Do you love me enough to be uncomfortable? Do you love me enough to let me go?” I course do, and so I drove, to what would be the most emotionally scary place in my life, to see my hero take his last breath, to tell my hero what he has meant to me, at first I didn’t think I was doing this for me, I told myself I was doing it for him, but now I understand that he was doing this for me. Him letting go in front of me was his last lesson for me: I was strong enough to get through it.

I’m still struggling with the visions of things I can’t un-see. I still have questions, but now I have a sense of peace, I know where my Grandpa is, and I know that death, while terrifying- is part of life, it is another birth into perhaps the greatest part of life.

I am honored that my Grandfather let go of his last grasp in this world while I was present, he was always so in control, a real patriarch. He would never want anyone to be uncomfortable in his presence, unless it was of course for their own good. And so I am humbled.

This is more of a diary entry than a blog, I suppose, somehow just writing these jumbled thoughts and emotions feels better than keeping them in my exhausted brain.

At this point I could be asking God why, but after that distinct moment I have my why. I know what myself and every other person in the room confirmed to me, he wasn’t gone; there was a very real presence of his soul, his being, with us. I guess a lot of people may think I’m crazy, or just trying to make myself feel better, but my faith has only grown stronger since this has happened. If I’m wrong and there is no God, then nothing will happen when I leave this earth, if I’m right then I know I will be in his presence and my grandfather’s, that’s an insurance policy I can’t refuse.

Grandpa, I’m so thankful for all of the lessons you taught me, most of all I’m so thankful for every single breath we shared.

“Life should not be measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.”

Treasure Hunting

When it’s a sunny day on the coast or anywhere for that matter one of my favorite things to do is Geocache. For those who haven’t explored geocaching on their own, think treasure hunting with a GPS unit. Once you go to geocaching.com enter in your zip code and find a list of geocaches, you simply enter the longitude/latitude coordinates or waypoint into a GPS unit and you’re on your way.

Not only does geocaching get me out and into nature but it takes me places I haven’t been, or to places I have been but never truly appreciated in the past. Once you find your way, using your GPS unit, you look for the cache, which is usually some sort of metal ammo container or plastic weather proof tub, inside will be a log book to document your find and some nick naks of some sort, the rule of the game is to take something and leave something for someone else to take. It’s not only an awesome way to get out into nature, but a great way to get rid of unwanted small toys that you find yourself stepping on in the middle of the night, I have a basket on my junk drawer for such toys, that once the silent screaming and cursing is done I toss the offending toy into. I say silent because no pain is great enough to wake the kids and have to start the bedtime process over again.

Since I love geocaching so much I decided to start a geocaching journal, I feel very much like “Indiana Jones” when I write in my journal, it’s leather bound and has a cool design on the front, it’s something I picture the girls finding in the attic when I die, and of course since they would love geocaching too I would hope that they would go to all the places documented in the journal, heck maybe by then they could teleport there, but frankly I think that would diminish the value of a good treasure hunt, indeed the real treasure is the journey. I started this journal ages ago and have logged many caches over the years, so I thought I would share one of those entries with you.

From the journal:

July 17, 2008. CACHE NAME: Sied Creek. WAYPOINT: N44’57.700/ W124’00.293.

CLUES: West of sign.

We are new to Lincoln City; figured breaking out the GPS unit would be the easiest way to find some cool locations in this windy city. We quickly realize that driving and trying to read a hand held GPS unit is not wise and also can cause many arguments. Shauna takes over on navigation, David drives, and Madi is cheerfully holding her prize that she will leave behind for someone else after we find this cache. We know the general location of the cache, somewhere around Devil’s Lake. We quickly realize as we drive that Devil’s Lake is much bigger than we realized. We enter a park and follow the GPS unit, we unload Madi and get her bundled up, even in July it’s cold and chilly here. David is asking me questions; I am stumbling over rocks and actually walk into a garbage can as I’m too focused on the GPS unit in my hand. We wind our way up a path and come to a breath taking view of the lake, tall trees surround us, and the smell of camp fire is in the air. It’s really quite something. We search and search, we find one sign, and look to the west, nothing. After an hour we are all frustrated, and David takes over on the GPS unit, he quickly realizes that I’m way off and that while on the screen of the unit we are only an inch away we are really a mile away. MY BAD.

So we eat lunch at the small park we found, and take a lovely break before loading up and having David navigate and drive us. Within 5 minutes we are at a large sign that reads “Sied Creek” Damn he’s good! Once there we searched for about 20 minutes, there was a small trail, we followed it for some time, then decided the cache couldn’t be that far back into the brush, we went back to the sign and searched under some big trees, under the largest of trees was a pile of rocks, I decided to dig. It paid off quickly I found a small green lock box, the cache had been placed by Lincoln City Parks and Recreation. The rule in geocaching is to take something and leave something; we let Madi choose her treasure. She chose a small novelty bottle of bubbles from someone’s wedding; “Mark & Jenny” were printed on the outside. I thought this to be very sweet and hope that Mark and Jenny are still together. We left a map of Cedar Breaks National Park, Utah it was still in the truck from our last hiking trip there, we had all our favorite sites marked on it, I hoped that someone would find it useful and maybe even go to some of our spots.

We had a wonderful time today, the area was beautiful, I learned a lot about our new GPS unit, and Madi had fun, which is all that matters. We do want to go back to this area sometime soon to see if Parks and Rec will continue to clear the trails that lead through this awesome area.

Kind of cheesy I know, but we did have fun, and like I said the real treasure is in the journey, looking back on this now I remember feeling so frustrated at my GPS skills, or lack thereof, but David swooped in and got us back on track, I think that’s good for both of us. I also think it’s great that Madi gets to explore with us, to places none of us have been, but will hopefully continue to go to in the future. These are my real treasures, the memories of the breeze on my face, watching Madi dig through bushes, even running into that garbage can. The best is always unearthing the treasure, even though there are only trinkets inside it is very fulfilling…like I said very Indiana Jones.

The Upside Down Shelf

When we first moved in to our house on the coast our then 2 year old daughter Madison sneakily figured out how to work the child proof door knob protectors, ironically I was still mastering them, but for her they were a cinch. It was after I found her in my bathroom covered in fingernail polish, Q-tips, mascara and lotion that I decided we needed to start locking our bedroom door. One of the problems with our house is that the top of the door frame is surrounded by 6 inch molding, very beautiful, yet unreachable for a shorty like me. And so I found a cute little shelf and asked David to hang it outside our bedroom door so I could keep the key to the door on it.

After a long day at work and a longer day dealing with a 2 year old and a wife who was in the early stages of morning sickness, David hung the shelf. It wasn’t until the next day that I realized it was upside down, an easy mistake; it does look similar on both sides and is indeed functional either way. I immediately called him to tell him it needed to be turned around. To which he replied, “Uh, oh sorry, okay, I’ll do it when I get a chance.”

Weeks went by and the shelf remained the same, every time I walked by the shelf I would become irritated, I mean how long would it take him to fix this, what like five minutes? (At the time it didn’t occur to me that I TOO COULD FIX IT! But for some reason I kept putting it on him). Many friends would come over and comment on the shelf, I just kept saying,

“Yeah Dave’s gonna fix it one of these days.” And then it hit me, why should he fix it? Why should he have hung it in the first place? I was the one who couldn’t reach the key when it was on the door frame, he reached it just fine. There was no reason for him to hang the shelf for himself, it was all for me.

So today over 2 years later the shelf is still upside down and it will be until the day we move. He’s offered to fix it many times but I love it that way. Every time I go in and out of our bedroom I see the shelf and it is a reminder to me. Not of how I was once so irritated by it, but a reminder of how much my husband does for me, just to make me happy. It’s something that tells me over and over again that even though he’s exhausted, drained, and would probably rather be watching some random sporting event on TV, he will still take the time to do something just for me. It may not be perfect, but who’s to say what is perfect and what’s not? I’m certainly not an expert on what’s right and wrong, although I do tend to criticize more than I should.

So to David, thank you so much for being so amazing to me, thanks for putting up with all my annoying moods and directions, thank you for picking out the beautiful purple tomato cages instead of the regular metal ones at Bi-Mart (just because you knew I’d like them), thank you for peeling and cutting up the cucumber for lunch without even being asked. You amaze me. Oh and I’m sorry about the fireplace, YOU’RE RIGHT, I WAS WRONG, your way will work fine, my way was just some random attempt for control. You do an amazing job, I have so much respect for you, I promise to work harder to show that to you, and I’ll also work harder at keeping my mouth shut, when my hands aren’t willing to participate in getting the work done.

I hope that everyone that is reading this has some sort of upside down shelf in their life, may its imperfection bless you and remind you that your loved one’s aren’t people you hire who you can boss around. They are the most important people in your lives and should be treated as special treasures.

Two Hour Tuesdays

It doesn’t seem like that long, unless of course you’re listening to a newborn baby cry and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. But today I got something new, I got two whole hours to myself!

That’s right, no crying baby, no four year old asking “Mommy can I have milk? Mommy I’m hungry. Mommy color with me. Mommy help me wipe!”

Two whole hours, and it was amazing! I woke up with a smile on my face; I’ve been waiting for this day for so long. I fed the kids, got them dressed and got to school early. Dropped Madi off at preschool and took Lilly across the hallway to the baby room. As I exited the baby room I had a huge smile, a spring in my step and I practically ran out of the school! This sounds horrible, but all you moms out there know exactly what I’m talking about- I was free. This doesn’t mean that I don’t love my girls; it means that I’m a better mom if I get to spend even a fraction of time by myself, with no obligations. No one peeking in the shower while I’m shaving my legs, no one opening the door while I’m going to the bathroom…

As soon as I got into my car I called the tanning salon, the woman on the other end was not in the mood for my chipperness, which usually I would take offense to, but today, there was no stopping me. I found the salon, bounced in and was met with the annoyed face from the other end of the phone. As I filled out my form, almost crying at the fact that I didn’t have anyone grabbing my pen, my leg, or my boob, the tanned woman asked,

“Oh lord, are you always this chipper in the morning?”

I laughed and beamed, “NO!!!! I’m usually miserable!!!! But this is the first two hours I’ve had to myself in ages!”

Suddenly she understood, and her mood shifted, she too has children, she too has experienced going to the bathroom with an audience. It was as if I’d just given her a super secret handshake for entrance into an underground society- it was all clear to her now, and I could see she felt joy for me. She gladly took me to my tanning room and said “you enjoy your time,” As she closed the door behind her.

I undressed, looked at myself in the mirror, and for the first time in a long time thought, hmm not that bad! I lay in the tanning bed and soaked up every single ounce of warmth for a wonderful eight minutes, when the timer went off I felt a new energy. I exited my room, the tanned woman welcomed me back in the lobby and said “we’ll get you started slowly; this will be so much fun!” Again, a tear came to my eye.

After tanning I called my Kinsy, and had an uninterrupted conversation for about forty minutes…this new uncharted territory felt foreign and odd, but wow - so awesome. I could focus, I could reply, I didn’t have an anxiety attack! I say “my Kinsy,” because she’s such a dear, dear friend, she understands, she’s in the same boat I am and I could feel her excitement for me. For those forty minutes, she was all mine.

This week has been a tough one for Dave and I, we lost his grandmother last week, and I realized today as I was driving to pick the girls up that I hadn’t had a chance to mourn. I have had to be strong for my girls, so on the way to pick them up I turned on a sad song, and sang and cried at the top of my lungs. It felt so good. I didn’t have to explain to anyone, or justify my behavior; I didn’t have to worry that my healing would scare them. I haven’t had that in so long; I haven’t had a private moment to take care of me.

But today I did and it was wonderful, it’s amazing to me how two hours can heal months of exhaustion, and brings a new enthusiasm to my soul. I can make it another week; I can be strong for my girls, take care of the house, the kids… my husband. I can do it joyfully now, because now I have “Two hour Tuesdays,” that’s 120 minutes of pure Shauna time, and I’m not wasting one of them!

How 'bout some sugar.....

Have you ever just needed something so bad that you can’t get it off your mind? A craving where you will go crazy until you get what you need, a feeling of rage in your chest as you search for what you desire most?

Hopefully you have on some level experienced this (or you’ll think I’m totally insane and somehow feel as though you’re better than me, hey if that’s what you need to get through your day, then great! Yep you’re better than me, oh it doesn’t feel as good when I acknowledge it does it?), whether it be a drink, a smoke, a crush, or in my case sweet treats made from what I’m sure is pure poison. Yes I’m an addict, My name is Shauna and I’m a what…sugar holic? Well anyway I want sugar, I crave sugar, I know sugar is bad for me and well right now it feels OH SO GOOD! Isn’t that how all addictions work though, the things that are soooooo baaaadd feel sooooooo good!

I’ve struggled with this all my life, during my childhood food and sweets were on what my mom called a “get while the getting’s good” basis, which meant, you filled your plate when we had food and you gorged yourself, because there wasn’t a guarantee that we’d have it again anytime soon. So my sisters and I all gorged. We chowed down stuff that I hate to say now I wouldn’t even consider edible and wouldn’t let my daughters even touch let alone eat…yeah they remember sitting in the barn, eating expired Ho Ho’s, wow that sentence sounds so terribly wrong! Oh well it is what it is...the making’s of Shauna.

So we gorged, but to make it a full circle horrible situation we had other influences in our lives that told us that woman were only attractive if they were bone skinny. Sure my mom didn’t mean to make us feel like fatties, but imagine being a little girl, looking at your mother in the mirror, all 120 lbs of her and hearing her tell you how incredibly fat she is. Talk about confusion!

So we not only got the “Get while the Getting’s good” but “after you get you’re a fat cow who is good for nothing!” (My mom didn’t say that to us, just to herself….message received).

Enter eating disorders, anxiety, and horrible self esteem oh and just in time, puberty...yes thanks for that!

So yeah, yucky childhood when it comes to self restraint, you don’t need to read more about how screwed up I am, but what I am interested in is this: Why when sugar makes me feel so bad do I continue to indulge in it? I had a great run, quite a few months of absolutely no sugar, and felt just lovely; Positive, fit, emotionally stable, then Christmas comes and all those darn treats, just eyeballing me, calling my name, jumping into my hands, opening the lids…wow this is a horrible addiction.

I understand the physiological side, and the psychological side, yep I get all the “psy” words, and have a degree to prove that I understand, but that just makes it worse, I mean I do understand! I know my body gets a chemical rush from sugar, I understand that I crash and feel like crap, and yet still I WANT it, and that is driving me crazy!

So maybe it isn’t really about the sugar. I mean I do get it, I do understand, maybe for me and probably for most addicts it’s about something entirely different…

Control.

I’ve noticed that when I really go crazy with sugar my life seems out of control. My kids won’t sleep, I don’t have time to shower, I suddenly start having dreams that I’m in high school and can’t remember the combination to my locker, right as I’m going to be late for class, but oh my gosh I’m not wearing a bra!!! And the bra is in the locker and that boy is walking up to me and I forgot to put on deodorant...ok, you get the picture.

So I guess I just need to let some things go, to understand that I really don’t have control over anything, and to allow myself to have a little sugar every now and then, maybe I won’t binge if I loosen up, then again that’s like telling an alcoholic that there’s a one drink maximum.

Or maybe I just let it go. Who cares if I have this addiction, admitting it is half the battle. Is it really so bad that I binge on this stuff? If I keep myself at a healthy weight and in the jeans my husband likes does it matter?

Probably not, but the fact that I’ve spent 802 words so far going over this in my head tells me it does, and the fact that my daughter just told me she’s had too much sugar today tells me that I’m a little too vocal about my control issues. She’s 4, I’m glad she understands her bodies signals that she’s had enough, but I’m sad that I’ve brought this into her circle of understanding.

So yes I have a problem, I want to be perfect, I want my BMI to be a solid 22, I want my sugar intake under 20 grams per day, I want to be confident in a bikini again, I want to be confident walking around naked in front of my husband again, I want to sleep, I want to know if I’m moving in the next year, I want my boobs to be perky again (sans surgery), I want my cupboards organized, my car cleaned, the settling cracks in my house to go away, I want to know that there’s nothing wrong with my daughter even though her head is strangely shaped, I want it to stop raining, I want control damn it!

Well now that were clear on that…thanks for listening, I bet you wish you had a degree in psychology so you would have just made $150.00 listening to me rant.

Finding Forrester

No, this posting isn’t about the movie; it’s about my day in Portland on a trip to IKEA.

My friend Desi and I took the kids on a shopping trip to IKEA; I know what were we thinking huh? Crazy, but I had a hankering to get a laptop charging station that has been on my wish list for over a year and so Desi embarked on this journey with me. I followed her through traffic, a nightmare really, oh I hate freeways, I can’t stand aggressive motorists who merge without blinking (their eyes or their turn signals) I guess I’m just not confident enough for city life, indeed that’s why in the 9 months I lived in Salt Lake City I barely made it to the mall across the street from our apartment complex, let alone onto the one of what felt like millions of freeways there.

But this was different I was following Desi and I suppose that in my quest for freedom from the unending rain on the coast I needed to get out and do some retail therapy.

However on the way there I was almost sideswiped, I luckily slammed on my brakes and allowed the car to merge into the lane ahead of me, just in time to see her car rear-end Desi’s vehicle. I assumed after Desi got out and talked to the woman that we were going to pull off the road and discuss the event, exchange info and have a merry old time at IKEA, where indeed we would be sideswiped and rear-ended with fancy I kea shopping carts. I was wrong though, the woman in the Blue Subaru Forrester yelled at Desi and then drove off, calling out “so sue me!” as she drove off.

I was dumbfounded, as was Desi. The damage to Desi’s car wasn’t severe, however there was a concern that her backup sensor might not work properly and after all it’s the law to stop and at least exchange info, even if you don’t plan on the courtesy of an apology. And so Desi called her husband, an insurance agent, who told her to file a police report. We talked with the police, gave them her license plate number and a description including the ironic fact that her license plate stated “Share the road” on it.

So here’s the interesting part of this story, and hopefully we can all learn a little lesson from this. This woman in the Forrester will most likely be charged with a Hit and Run, and since she yelled at Desi who was not at fault and refused to give information she could also get Road Rage charges, all for a simple rear end accident that quite frankly Desi probably wouldn’t have been all that concerned about after making sure her sensor was intact. But since this woman was so rude and refused to cooperate we had to call the police and now the ball is rolling on something that seriously wasn’t that big of a deal.

So the moral, always be quick to apologize, always follow the rules of the road and give the other driver in an accident your information, indeed the lapse of judgment the Forrester had will prove to be a nightmare for her unforeseeable future. The other moral, is never, never yell “So sue me!” because frankly you never know who’ll take you up on that offer, especially if you just rear ended the car that is carrying their most valuable possessions in the world…mama bear will always get her revenge!

So Forrester, you may think you got away free and clear, indeed you had no way of knowing that I was part of Desi’s caravan and I had a clear view of not only the accident but of your license plate, so in the future, practice what you preach and “Share the Road.”

On a lighter note, we were only sideswiped once in IKEA, and I was rear ended only twice by someone’s shopping cart, but I was quick to forgive because each time I received a very apologetic “I’m so sorry” from the perpetrator. Oh I also got out of IKEA and only spent $165.00, got a ton of cool stuff, and am proud to say that my house is beginning to get more organized, one brilliant IKEA system at a time.

Adorable Terrorsits

I’m exhausted. Plain and simple, exhausted. I’m so tired I feel as though I could sleep for a week and still wake up feeling totally burnt out, cranky and on the verge of tears. The sad part is that I have no huge claim to this exhaustion; I haven’t just run a marathon, I haven’t just traveled the globe, I’m just a mom and a housewife. My days are spent doing everything for everyone else, even showering feels like work right now.

I know this sounds horrible, I know I sound totally pessimistic and well, like a whiny little bitch. I know that I need to just put on my big girl panties, deal with it and keep on trucking, but I wonder…do all new moms feel this way? Am I so totally chemically imbalanced? Is my post partum depression so bad that this isn’t normal? Or is it normal? Does every mom feel this way at one time or another?

Does anyone else not want to fall asleep because they know that within a few short hours they will be awoken by a crying child? Does anyone else get angry when they are awoken by a crying baby? I’m seriously asking… because I feel like the worst mom in the world.

I try to fill my daughters’ days with learning, reading, playing; I want to create an environment where exploration is celebrated. But as my 7 month old crawls around and forces me to get up once again to pull her away from trouble I get so very frustrated.

Yes motherhood is a lot of work, most days I wish I did have a job to go to, just to get a break, just to miss them, to escape the dishes, the laundry, the diapers for a few hours. I know a lot of my readers are probably thinking…HA! You think you have it bad! Or Stop complaining, at least you have a family and children. Don’t get me wrong I do feel blessed for my family, I do love them, I’m just spent. I just want to sleep, to take a bath by myself, to actually have time to shave my legs in the shower, to lie in my bed without one of three different people requiring something from me.

I guess I’m just selfish, somewhere between laundry and bedtime stories, I’ve lost myself.

I remember a time when I could look in the mirror and had time to pluck a stray eyebrow. I remember a time when the thought of going shopping wasn’t something that sent anxiety through my entire being. I remember a time when the phone rang I actually felt excited about answering it and having a wonderful uninterrupted conversation with a friend, but times have changed.

Now I don’t even look in the mirror, and when I do it’s followed by a feeling of loss as I evaluate my stretch marks and scars. I look at my tattoo that once represented my freedom and now can only be described as a bug that has been smeared on a windshield. (For anyone out there who hasn’t yet had children, even if your DR tells you that you can’t have kids, NEVER get a tattoo on your stomach!)

Most of all I remember a time when I smiled regularly, when I woke up excited about my day and the activities that I had planned, I remember going on vacation and not worrying about the one’s I left behind for the week. Now I wish I could go on vacation, but the thought of all the work that would have to be done in order to arrange childcare, dog care, house care, etc etc…well it’s not even worth it.

So what do I do, besides whine to my computer screen, praying someone will validate these feelings…begging “does ANYONE understand?”

I guess I do what I always do…I breathe, I force a smile, I pray….and I repeat, over and over and over, because sometimes that’s all I can do.

Now I would love to finish this but my baby has filled her diaper once again, I’m laughing at myself now because I’m actually excited about this, only a mom who has experienced a constipated baby will understand my joy at this moment in time.