Saturday, March 18, 2017

Layers of Getting Back up and Trying Again

I went to the Grand Canyon and Antelope Canyon this month with my beloved husband. He is the one that pesters me, laughs at me, makes fun of me, makes me the pun of his jokes, and believe it or not, loves me. He has taught me to laugh about the small things and I have taught him to laugh at the big things. We each deal with problems in our own way. I could name all my big problems for you, but you have your own to forget about. We move on, past our problems, but we don't forget them.

Antelope Canyon
Page, AZ

Our problems, progression, mistakes, pains, joys, and gifts,  are all engraved on each of us. Each one is like a layer in the Grand Canyon. It took years to get all those beautiful layers of rock, silt, dirt, and minerals. Some layers are thicker than others. Some are thin. Some even have little pebbles embedded in the layer, like the scars we carry with us. And after each layer water would come and wash in a new layer. I would be baptized with rejuvenated hope. And then, the water would dry up again and leave another layer. Each time another problem would come, I would blame my creator. Why? Why me? The layer would dry eventually leaving another bed of dried rock to carry on top of the others. Then the rocks crashed against each other and some were raised and others went deeper into the earth forgotten and out of sight. The ones that raised above the earth reached for the sky and revealed their layers. People would come an look at these rocks and behold their beauty. All those layers revealed her secrets, yet it was beautiful.

Then the sandstone that filled the crevasses, the years of no joy, no learning, no pains, were washed away by the rushing water.  We must have those years of no joy, to see the joy. We must have the years of pain, to enjoy the years of no pain. No layer is more important than another. They all work magnificently to create a breathtaking view. Now thousands of people love to visit these Canyons and see her years of creation. It was the time that created her, and it will be time that creates our beautiful life. We must stick through the tough time and see that there will be beauty to behold.
Grand Canyon
South Rim

I think back to my young life at 17. I got pregnant and married. I remember times when I would go pick up my child from kindergarten and some moms would not talk to me because I was so young. I could feel people look at me with pity, "That poor girl is already pregnant. She will never get to enjoy life. Her marriage is doomed. Her poor child." The women that sought out different things in life only pitied me.  "Your not old enough to have a 10 year old! How old are you?" (I still hear this!) Your not old enough to have a son that's married! I have already prepared myself for, "You're not old enough to be a grandma!" I will say, "Oh dear! Enlighten me on the age requirement. And what is the age requirement for having a doltish tongue?"

Then there were the ones that didn't judge me for those social standards the world set. They saw a girl wanting what was best for her child and marriage. They saw a young girl, but one that was determined. I just used my "handicaps" to weed out the women that abhorred me. It was easy to like me or hate me. Those that didn't see my life as pitiful became my friends. I was fortunate to find some wonderful friends. I have never regretted having children young. Infact, in third grade I said I wanted 100 kids. I have since changed my mind. I may have different layers in my life that create a different canyon. That is the beauty of it, we all have different lives. I was fortunate that I couldn't hide my differences (becoming pregnant at 17), but some people try to hide their differences from society. Don't hide it. Use it. Show your layers.

If you suffer from a mental illness, don't be embarrassed.
If you have a medical diagnosis, don't hide it.
If you made a mistake, own it.
If you lost, congratulate the winner.
If you failed, wipe off your knees and try again.

I love myself!

When I was 5 and learning to ride a bike I would fall. "Get up, get up. Try again." I learned to ride the bike in 3 days.

I NEVER heard, "How come you fell off!? Don't you know you have to keep peddling!"

Then I turned 11 and tried smoking with my friends. "What were you thinking!" I learned to hide my mistakes.

INSTEAD, I needed to hear, "You can try again at this game called life. Get back up and try again. Tomorrow is another day."

Then I was 15 and watched some porn. "You are going to be a sex addict and never understand relationships." I learned to hide my curiosity.

INSTEAD, I needed to hear, "You may have curiosity, but this is addictive. Try again tomorrow and keep peddling through life."

Then I was 17 and became pregnant. Silence. Sadness.  I learned to regret my life.

INSTEAD, I needed to hear, "keep peddling in this game we call life. This will one day make a beautiful layer in your life if you let it."

Now I'm 22 and have 3 kids. I tell them for every mistake they make, to get back up and try again. We all have to keep trying. We make mistakes, we fall down. We don't master being a teenager in a week. We need encouragement to get back up and try again. We don't master motherhood in a year. We must try again. Masters were not created in a month. It takes years. Just as a canyons take years. And we may not ever master it, because we are ALL always learning.

Keep on clogging!

Saturday, February 4, 2017


Observations of LOVE... unedited

I wonder if people know how to love. If they can't love, where did they learn to not love?
What makes you LOVE? Who taught you to love? Who gave you the security to put you heart out there and love other people?

Love is a decision.

First, we choose not to love when we say we can't love. Love takes effort and continual fighting for.

Falling in Love usually includes a denominator of sexual passion. This is a kind of love, but not the kind that we should continue. (The Road Less Traveled.) But, let's admit it, passion is a plus.
Then there is the love that comes when we have kids. This is the kind most people think comes naturally, but if we haven't learned to love, the kids can really end up screwed up!
Then adopting. Some people know they can't ever adopt because they just wouldn't love the child the same as their own. (not my words). I have heard it said before this way, "if my house was burning I would grab my own kids first, then the others." TERRIBLE.
Then kids learn to love their parents and siblings from watching their parents. Hopefully, parents do not teach their kids to love conditionally.
Then men have to learn to love their mom's and let them go to love their wife. Some boys have a hard time doing this. We can blame the mom's for this.
OR vise versa, every woman is not as mean as their moms. The boys have to learn to let their guard down and love a girl fully.
Then the daughters have to learn that every guy is not as nice as their dads. So they leave the house and are naive.
OR Vise versa, every guy is not as mean as their dad. The daughters keep a guard up and do not love fully.
Then there are the cat people and the dog people. They use their pets to replace a significant other because they will never be rejected.

Bottom line, don't live in fear. Bust a move. Quit being so selfish and ego-centric. Who cares if you get hurt? Get back up and love again.

I got married when I was 17 years old. I didn't have a clue what I was doing. I came from a "broken home". I lived with my mom and from 6th grade on. I also thought that my dad was a horrible person. I didn't trust people and thought that all boys were 'out for one thing'. I was also told by Donahue and Oprah that I would marry someone just like my dad unconsciously. That was the last thing I wanted. I  had seen Forest Gump, and the only nice man that I saw was handicapped. So, I got pregnant soon after I turned 17. I just plunged into marriage and hoped for the best. I knew he was a nice guy. He supported me in my dreams. He took care of my little family and loved my new baby. He told me every morning as he left for work, "I love you." I would pretend I was asleep sometimes. Other times I said it back. But he kept saying it, every morning. He would get on my nerves sometimes. I would tell him everything he was doing wrong and he never told me anything I did wrong. He worked. I stayed home with the kids and quit school. I just kept truckin'. I thought I wanted to divorce him when we had a rough year.  I made plans and soon the rough patch healed. We made it through the good and the bad. He didn't judge me when I was losing my mind and I let it go when he had a bad day at work. He helped me at home with the kids and I helped him stay on the straight and narrow. When I struggled he held me up, and when he struggled I held him up. Then 20 years passed. I woke up one morning realized, This guy really does love me. He has stayed with me this long, put up with my chaos and always showed his devotion to me. Then guilt swept over me. I hadn't always let him know how much I appreciated everything he had done. Although he wasn't the romantic kind, he had always been there. That was much more than adorning me with riches.
I thought of how every older woman had gotten under my skin by letting me know that a man is one that is romantic, or that he remembers your anniversary. But that wasn't my man. He was simple and unconditional in his love. He loved me with my unshaven legs and feisty mouth. And I loved him when he sat and watched TV for hours. It was hard with little kids. Somedays I felt like I held everyone together. I cleaned up the puke, called the insurance company to appeal unpaid bills, paid the speeding ticket, then made dinner and did the dishes. Some days are like that. But, I do think that finding someone to do all that stuff with matters. When it is all said and done I look back and say, we have made it that far.

Looking at the "adulting" that people hate now, It does suck. I remember thinking that adults had it all. But when I got to that plateau of adulting, I realized that adults can really suck. They can be self absorbed, alcoholics, beating, cheater Sons of Bitches. But Adults can be good. I sometimes look at old people and wonder how they made it through. The same way we have over the last thousands of years, getting back up and trying again. It sucks. My grandma died eating a Snickers everyday, but she had lived and survived. She deserved that Snickers everyday. But I also think that we have to be NICE as we do it. And if we can remember that, it can be GREAT.