Lesson Learned

One thing about eating a clean diet is that when I do eat something that I normally avoid, I can usually pinpoint it by just thinking back through what I ate. It's like food poisoning when you go, 'Hmmm...well, I had some fish....oh, the fish.'

The latest happened after the ACM Awards show Sunday night in Vegas. We managed to find a restaurant in the MGM with an open table to have dinner with a friend. The next morning, I felt awful. Really awful. My stomach was cramping and my head felt like I couldn't fully wake up. (I know what you're thinking, 'Hey, it's Vegas. That's called a hangover!', but, no, I only drank water.) I was in complete panic mode as I had only three hours until my flight and who wants to get on a plane when your stomach is staging a full-out revolt?

As we talked through what I'd eaten, it came to me. I had eaten a small (white) roll before dinner. (We had been so busy and not had time to eat so I was famished. I totally caved to instant gratification.) Realizing that the flour must have been bleached was the a-ha moment I was looking for. I was so mad at myself for not waiting the extra fifteen minutes for my salad and vegetable ratatouille to avoid this misery.

In the end, I ordered multigrain toast from room service and topped it with half an avocado I'd brought with me. (Yes, I travel across the country with avocados.)

With that, and a vow to not be my own worst enemy again, I headed home a happy camper.

What A Weekend

We have had a very full weekend -- full of joy and laughter as well as full of heartache and destruction.

The middle of last week we had a lot of family from all across the country arrive for a 5-day reunion. Some incredible memories were made and I'll definitely have to share those with you later. 

However, Saturday brought incredibly heavy rains to the Nashville area. It started around midnight Friday and stopped maybe twice before Sunday night. Saturday morning, we had brunch at the Opryland Hotel which looked like this less than 48 hours later. 

Sunday morning, I found out via text that one of my dearest friends had seen her car float away and had knee-deep water in the first floor of her condo. By mid-day the water was waist-high and by the time they were rescued that evening, it was chest-high. When the water recedes, we'll go back to see if anything can be salvaged. 

A few houses in a nearby community floated away and one school was almost completely submerged. Water services have now been shut-off as the water isn't safe to use. I haven't heard of anyone who lost their home who actually had flood insurance. So many will be truly starting over.

I have been so surprised at how emotionally exhausting this has been and, really, I haven't endured anything more than one day without power and water. I can only imagine how those with real issues feel.

Not a good post, I know. There is just too much to process right now...

(photo: tennessean.com)

As If I Needed More Proof That We're Sisters :)

After the hustle and bustle of getting everyone out the door this morning, I thought about how much I love our mornings together...except for the leaving part, of course.

I feel so honored to have such a husband who every morning tells me how much he loves me (apparently, he's not looking at my hair or flannel pjs at that moment...) And even though the kids can be a bit hard to drag out of bed and/or the shower, I know I'm going to miss all the craziness so much in the years to come. (I can't even bring myself to end that sentence with 'when they're gone'.)

In the moments when I allow myself to think about the time when the kids have moved away, I feel so lost. What will I do? I mean really, how will I get out of bed? I always come to the same conclusion...nothing will ever fulfill me like the busyness of mothering. I'll have to set my sights on other things to fill my hours and I hope they will always need me to do something for them. I suppose, though, that seeing the kids happily chasing their own dreams will plug the holes in my heart so I don't weep forever.

So, after I got over my little teary moments of panic, I read my sister's blog and found this. And, then, my sister-in-law's and read this which totally proves my point. Oh, great. It's just gonna be one of those half-a-box of tissues kind of days, huh? :)

Inspiration Can Be Found...

here.

 

Some New Pups Made My Day

No, I'm not getting a new puppy. That's the last thing we need but, nevertheless, the birth of some little German Shepards blessed me today.

This morning, I left the house for a run and a workout, then met C and the kids for dentist appointments and lunch together. Just your average togetherness kind of day, right?

The stress came as we returned home and I remembered that I had totally missed an appointment with the dog trainer. I felt so bad that she drove all the way out to our house to find no one home. UGH!

My mind immediately started down that how-could-you-be-such-an-idiot path. So unproductive. Nobody's perfect but, somehow, I really do expect myself to be. (Note to self: stop that.)

I came inside and checked the messages (cringing) before calling the trainer. I had two messages from her. Not annoyed ones, though. Her dog had gone into labor this morning and she needed to reschedule. Woohoo!!

When I reached her, we both laughed at how much we had been stressing about how our own circumstances had affected the other.

I share this because this is the second time in as many weeks that this scenario has played out -- me nearly losing it because I failed in some completely human, unintentional way only to see the situation resolve itself without my oversight inconveniencing the other party. It really makes me think about how much we all pressure ourselves and how that is inversely proportional to our expectations of and ability to forgive each other.

Life really is good when we (okay, I) let it be.

A Quote For Those Inevitably Frustrating Days...

A friend sent me this quote the other day. I just love it. It's like she knows me or something...

I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something.

And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do.

-Edward Everett Hale

REPOST - The Angel Tree

This was originally posted on my old blog on March 30, 2009.

Yesterday, as E was playing outside with friends, she discovered that our dog, Angel, had curled up in the base of a hollow tree and passed away.

Angel was a gift from Minama and Bittaba for S's fifth birthday. In her "first life," she was beaten and confined to a small pen. When we chose her from a cage at the Metro pound, the man helping us said, "Well, I don't know. She's awfully skittish and not very comfortable around people but she's only got a day or two left, so let's try."

He brought her out and she proceeded to walk over to where we were seated on a bench and sit down beside me, facing out. It was as if she were already ours. Tears came to my eyes and we knew we'd found our dog.

She loved keeping the many critters in the woods away and was a wonderful guard dog. She would give a waring bark anytime anyone came up our drive (unless it was one of our cars. She never once barked when C came home.) However, she never was the kind of dog that wanted to run around and play too much. Love and security can only do so much...she came into this world among people that were just too mean for her to ever fully trust. To the end, she would sometimes flinch when we'd move to pet her.

Over the past year, taking care of the animals has become solely S's responsibility. He has never once complained or forgotten to feed them. Rain, wind, snow and ice...he has cared for them and it has been wonderful to watch them bond further with him.

C and I knew that Angel would be leaving us before too long even though nothing in particular was wrong with her. She just had a bad start in life and was aging quickly. We never really voiced this to the children and maybe we should have, but in their own ways, they noticed, too.

The children have taken the loss very hard, of course, as it's their first such experience. They've all cried themselves to sleep and we've been careful to snuggle with them a little extra.

The tree that Angel died in was the very one that she used to curl up in years ago when we first brought her home. She was smaller then and I'm not really sure how she managed to get in there one last time. As we were unable to take her out, she is now buried in the base of the tree which E has aptly named The Angel Tree.

A fitting tribute, I suppose, to a life which very well could have ended without notice eight years ago on a cold table in the pound...