The day where the kids get up excited to go to school. The day they throw on their clothes, excited to look all dapper and put together! RIGHT! I wish! Picture Day is my least favorite day of the school year. It takes planning, coordinating, and skill to pull off a successful picture day!
See picture day does not actually start on the day assigned at school. It starts in the summer. It starts as I am school shopping online, weeding through the many different websites online. Looking for the "PERFECT" coordinating shirts and jeans for my boys. I mean, this picture is momentous, it is the picture that will be in the year book. And lets face it, how many of us have flipped back through an old yearbook and laughed at what we were wearing and how our hair was styled? I have to pick out the perfect shirt that will not embarrass my boys in the years to come!
As I am flipping through the websites, I am thinking about the backgrounds the picture company offers, I am thinking about how the shirt will match my paint color on the wall...I know, it is crazy, but this picture is the one that the family members will receive and be framed and looked at for a whole year!
This year, I found the perfect shirts at JCPenny's. Blue, plaid, cowboy shirts. Kade and Blake's are identical, while Colt's is just "off" in color by a smidgen. This also bothers me because its not exactly the same! But I purchase them anyway. The boys love them...Larry loves them...Mission complete. So, before school has even started, I know exactly what they are going to wear for shirts. Now what about pants? Jeans of course...dark jeans, that also match exactly!
The night before picture day, I get my iron out and go to town. Not one wrinkle will be present! Their jeans crisp and never worn, and their socks are stark white (and you don't even see their socks). I set everything out ready for the "big" day!
I wake the boys the morning of the "big" day. "Boys get up! It's PICTURE DAY" Now, lets face it, this means NOTHING to them. They don't care what they are wearing, how their hair is styled, or if their socks are white. They only care that they have a pair of socks to wear. Heck, why not wear the ones from yesterday?
So, Colt is the first to bolt out of bed. Now, Colt has OCD when it comes to clothes. EVERYTHING has to be tight fitting, not one piece of clothing can be big. He rolls his pant up 3-4 times so they won't get dirty, and it has to be the same size as his age. I knew that having him wear what I picked out, was not going to go well. So, I said "Colt, you MUST wear this today without any complaint." "One day for Mom." Suprisingly, he does not put up a fight. But that was not the case with Kade.
Kade is in 5th grade. He was MORTIFIED that he had to wear the same clothes as his brothers. He said, "that is so NOT cool, Mom." "I am sorry Kade, but it is only ONE day." "Mom, you don't have to be in the hall and pass your brother who is in 1st grade and dressed EXACTLY like you. It is embarrassing." I said, "I am sorry, but again, it is one day." As we continued our prep for the big event, I style their hair perfectly, tuck their shirts into their pants, and make sure their school shoes are sparkly clean. I sent them out the door with their envelopes (which contain a small fortune) and with instructions to not move a hair on their heads, and to smile their "best smiles!"
Phew, I have done my job, now I have to trust the boys and the photographer to make sure everything is just how I want it, and they will come home in a few weeks with their "perfect" pictures!
Wait! Why have I just tortured myself and the boys? Why does everything have to so scripted? After they left, it hit me. Do I really want the absolute "perfect" picture for my wall? Do I want them to portray something they actually are NOT? NO, I don't! My boys are not statues that smile with perfection every time. My boys each have their own personalities that actually will not be shown in the picture. So, what good is that? I wish I would of given this part of picture day some thought!
I take a step back and realize I have fallen into the trap of Picture Day. I have spent a large sum of money so perfection can adorn my wall, but in real life, I do not expect perfection from them. I wish I would of thought of that before. I would have prepared for this day differently than I did. I would of let Kade pick out his own shirt. He would of picked out an orange shirt, which is his favorite color. Probably something with sports on it. He would of let me brush his hair, but not put gel in it because gel makes his hair stiff and he hates that. He would of posed with his arms across his chest, not in his pockets like I requested. Blake would picked out a red shirt, because that is his favorite color, and it would of been a solid red shirt with no designs on it at all. He would of still let me spike his hair, but not put as much hairspray in it. He would have tender, caring and loving eyes, which fits his personality perfectly! And then there is Colt, he would of picked out a superhero shirt, because lets face it, he thinks he is one! He would of put on a pair of jeans from last year that were tailored perfectly to body and rolled just right at the legs! He would of given me a picture with a HUGE grin that he usually has, and his personality would have beamed through the portrait.
What was I thinking? What is the point of perfection when it does not reflect who they really are? Isn't that the point of the picture? To remember who they are at that moment in their lives? On a normal day, I would never send them in matching shirts and jeans. On a normal day, I would not iron their clothes until no wrinkles were present. On a normal day, I would make sure they were clean, happy, and ready to have a great school day, because really, a "NORMAL" day is all that matters.
While it is nice to have beautiful pictures on the wall, what I truly want is happy children. What I want is their pictures to reflect their lives now, and what they feel and care about. I want sparkle in their eyes and fire in their hearts. I want their pictures to reflect them as an "INDIVIDUAL" not "IDENTICAL." I want to look back and say, "Remember when you picked out that ugly orange shirt for picture day?" Or "Remember when you got a black eye two days before picture day." Because THIS is life. This is the life of boys! They are not perfect. They are not scripted. They are individuals with styles and feelings of their own. Why had I not considered this before, because truly, aren't those the moments I want to remember? The moments that reflect their lives and hearts. Moments that define them as an individual. Moments that make them who they are, and what they believe and feel at that time.
Next year will be different. Next year it will be fun! Next year, they can wear whatever makes them happy! Next year, picture day will be like ANY other day! Next year, their clothes won't match, the background won't matter, and their pose can be all their own...because that is who my boys are...That is how I want them to be...and individual...a boy I love with all my heart...A boy who is happy!
A Mommy who learned a huge lesson,
Shelby <3
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Life Lessons Given To Me....By a TREE!
This morning Larry and I were anxiously waiting for a contractor to come over and give us an estimate on some renovations we have decided to do. See, we live in a small, 75 year old log home. It now is beautifully sided and is housing 6 people with only 3 bedrooms and one bath. Over the past year, I have been seriously thinking hard of moving. I have secretly been looking for a house with a nice long driveway and surrounded by trees. My "dream" has always been to live with trees, peacefulness, and privacy. Instead, we live on a major road on 2 beautiful acres. Larry has always taken pride in the yard. While living in Ohio, landscaping became a passion of his and he is so good at it. So, for the past 10 years, we have lived in this comfy home. I approached Larry and gave him two options. Either move or renovate. Our comfy home has become a place where our boys no longer have privacy, their own space, and sleeping has become a challenge. Larry said, "I do not want to move." I said, "Ok, I am calling contractors tomorrow." Hence, the next phase of our lives is now in full swing.
So, my story begins. As we are waiting for the contractor a friend of ours stopped over to ask if one of our sons could go play with his son. We chatted for a few minutes and during that time, the contractor showed up. I introduced Larry and our friend, and Larry grabbed his "preliminary drawings" and headed off with the contractor. As I am chatting with our friend, I notice Larry and the contractor heading over to a tree in our backyard. I see the contractor waive his hand, and on they go with their conversation. My friend leaves, and I join the two men chatting. During the conversation, I said "I noticed you waived when Larry was asking about the tree?" He politely said "The tree needs to go" I said, "no" and he, ever so politely said, "The root system will kill your new foundation. See all those branches? That is what it looks like underground." He then goes on to tell us a story of how a tree ruined a basement of one of his customers. At the time, I was thinking, "OK, I guess the tree goes." But it did not sit well with me!
Then this evening, I am in the shower, and it hits me like a ton of bricks; how could I possibly consider getting rid of this tree? How selfish of me! This tree is not going anywhere!
Let me show you this beauty....
Isn't it beautiful?
This has always been a favorite tree of Larry and I. The picture does not even show the "wing span" of the tree! We have no idea what type of tree it is. We know it is a willow, but it is not a weeping willow. We always look forward to Spring. Once this tree starts budding, we know we are close to Spring! So, how could we, with no conscience, get rid of this tree? Many would find it hard to believe that anyone could have sentimental value on a tree...but see, this is MORE than just a tree to us.
See, when we moved in, we looked at this beauty in wonder. "How old is this tree?" "What exactly type of tree is it?" "How many boys have climbed this tree?" and "I wonder how many people sat and had coffee, watching this tree sway in the wind?" We even planned our fence line around this tree...so how could we cut it down? Let me tell you...this tree is not going anywhere!
Our dream has always been to have a "Morning Room." A place where we can sit and have coffee together surrounded by windows and sunshine. During our talks on renovating the house, this is one thing we are passionate about. We love our morning together on the weekends, and we have always wanted a place where we can enjoy the sunshine year around, especially during those cold Michigan Winters.
We planned our "Morning Room" off of our Master Suite. I envision wicker furniture, a fireplace, which would be surrounded by windows. Does it not sound beautiful? Now, tell me this...what good would all that be if I have to look out at an open field? What good would having all those windows, if all I looked at was the place where the "tree used to live?" Every time I sat in that beautiful space, I would think of the wondrous tree that used to be there. Fall would come and we would have no leaves to rake, the kids would have no piles of leaves to jump in, no crisp leaves under our feet, and the smell of Fall would be gone. Then Winter would arrive and the beauty of snow on the branches would be something of the past, the ice crystals that make a winter wonderland, would be no more. Then Spring, and no buds, no signs of Spring, no life coming from the Earth. And Summer would arrive, and there would be no leaves blowing in the wind, the fullness of the tree, the new branches...it would all be gone! And why? because I was so selfish and wanted a bigger house.
This tree has been the "center" of our backyard. Our boys have climbed this tree, had their pictures taken in this tree. Their friends have made forts in this tree. I have watched this tree during horrendous thunderstorms, stay strong and not sway, lean, or even slightly move. This tree is so engraved into the ground, that its roots are as strong as ever. This tree has been there for all the owners of our small home. The history planted in these roots are undeniable, and I refuse to end its story because it still has a ton of history to write!
Every Summer, Larry will get his Mom's tractor, and we will embark on cutting dead branches, branches that are to close to the ground, and branches that almost touch our house. I will drive the tractor while larry rides in the bucket. I will lift the bucket and he will cut branches down as I direct him to the ones that need to go. Our boys have always loved this because, they too, get to ride in the bucket and tell us which ones should be cut. These are memories being made that could never be replaced.
Can you imagine what this tree has seen in its life? Can you imagine the weather, storms, hot, cold, windy, calm, silence loudness; it has endured? How many children have found joy in the branches of this beauty? How many times have the owners of the house, looked out the window at the swaying branches while deep in thought? So many of these questions we will never know the answer to...but I know it has lived longer than most people I know. I know it has roots that span our 2 acres, and I think we will just take our chances on this tree ruining our new foundation. Because, that can always be fixed, but once you cut her down...there is NO replacing the beauty it delivers.
We are very uncertain about what exactly our "new" house will look like. We have not gotten that far. We have many wonderful idea's and it will be exciting to watch them bloom. But I can guarantee that our plans will not include getting rid of this piece of history...for I plan on my grandchildren climbing this tree, Kade's dream tree-house being built, and many wonderful hours sitting with my husband watching the tree in our backyard. Memories are worth so much more than any renovations ever could be, and those renovations would mean nothing if the pillar of our backyard was no more. So, I will sip my coffee and know that I did what my heart told me to do. I chose to let this tree show its beauty, even if that means we could have problems in our future. For it has always been there for us, standing tall, standing strong, and standing proud.
Hugging my HUGE tree in Pickford,
Shelby <3
Friday, March 15, 2013
YAY...For Short People!
As I stand in the salad dressing aisle in Walmart, I look up to the top shelf where my Raspberry Vinaigrette is usually housed. I stepped back, and sure enough...there is ONE left! One, tucked way back. One, lingering where I can't reach it. One, waiting to be purchased by a tall person, because, believe me, I sure can't reach it. I look to my right and left, and down the aisle I see a tall man. He is my ONLY option of getting my salad dressing. I walk up to him.."Sir, would you mind helping me get my salad dressing down?" He looked around also, wondering if it was him I was speaking to..."Oh, of course" he states. He walked over, I show him my dressing and he effortlessly reaches way back and grabs the hidden dressing. "Thank you so much" I say to the man. He replies, "You are so welcome." "They sure don't make these available to little girls like yourself." I laugh..."No, they don't" and we part ways...
WAIT! HOLD ON! DID HE JUST CALL ME A LITTLE GIRL???? Should I go after him and tell him that I am a mom of 4? That I am 38? And that I have been married for 15 years??? Naw, he doesn't care..and he obviously knows I am NOT a little girl...So, why say that?
The perception people hold over others can be so hard to understand. Would I ever want to be tall? I have no idea, I mean, I have been short my entire life.. Why do we take what others "perceive" us as to heart? Why does it matter how tall we are, or how short we are? I see advantages to both.
When I was in high school, I was a cheerleader. I hated sports that all the athletic girls would play. Plus, my grandmother would say, "Your to short to be a basketball player." How did she know that I was not the "best player my age?" She assumed since I was short, that I would not make a good basketball player. Maybe she was right. That I will never know, but I lived under the "perception" that I wouldn't, so I never even tried.
Recently, Kade came to me and said, "Mom, I am the 3rd oldest in my class, and the 3rd shortest." The look of sadness on his face was unbearable. I have been there...I, too, was in the same position as him in school, and we all know how "nice" kids can be! I told Kade that he is "perfect the way he is. That God made him that tall and there is nothing we can do about it. You are given the genes you have and wishing you were another way, is a wasted wish." I realize this is hard for a 10 year old to understand, but he does not have tall parents. So, how do you teach a 10 year old something that has taken me 38 years to understand?
So, I begin by telling him some of the advantages of being short. 1. When we fall, we don't have as far to go to hit the ground. 2. We never have to worry about our pants being to short. 3. We never have to worry about a couch not being long enough for us to stretch our legs out. 4. We can jump higher on a trampoline (at least it looks like we do). 5. We don't have to duck for low ceilings. 6. We don't have to purchase those platforms to put our front loader washer and dryer's on. 7. We don't have to bend over as far when getting something from the floor or a lower cabinet...8. We become creative in ways to get things down from high up. 9. Our feet are usually smaller. 10. We don't have to dust top shelves because we can't reach them OR see the dust lingering up there!"
Kade looked at me like I was crazy. I said, "Right now it these things don't matter to you, but believe me, they will." "But, Mom, the kids in my class make fun of me all the time." I respond, with a broken heart, "Kade, we can't change what we are given. We can't wish we were someone else because you are wasting your time. You are beautiful the way God made you, and if you were taller, you would not be Kade." I know this is hard for a 10 year old to grasp, but he will. See, what he lacks in height, he makes up in strength. I say, "Kade, you are the strongest boy I know. You are a fast runner, you are built strong! These kids in your class know this, so they pick on you for being short because that is the only things they have to use against you. They are jealous."
"Don't waste your life worrying about what others "think" of you...bask in the glory of being strong, athletic, and fast!"
Teaching your kids to love themselves is so hard. I spend all day building him up so he can go to school and be knocked down. It is such a cruel world. But we can't shelter them forever. At some point they have to learn what the world is like. I truly believe, that if you love yourself first, the rest is pointless. I am trying to give them a strong foundation and strong self-worth, so no one can knock the down...
Tall, short, chubby, skinny, acne, no acne....we are not perfect. We are who we are...and as long as we treat people with respect, love, and have empathy, we are on the right track. So, as I type this, I am getting ready to head to Walmart again. I will welcome the close to empty shelves, I will not be shy to ask for assistance. I mean, not everyone gets to climb the shelves of Walmart and balance to grab the toilet paper! And I will continue to do so because, nowhere in the near future will I grow to be anything above 5' 2", and that is on a good day....IN HEALS!
Loving my short self!
Shelby
WAIT! HOLD ON! DID HE JUST CALL ME A LITTLE GIRL???? Should I go after him and tell him that I am a mom of 4? That I am 38? And that I have been married for 15 years??? Naw, he doesn't care..and he obviously knows I am NOT a little girl...So, why say that?
The perception people hold over others can be so hard to understand. Would I ever want to be tall? I have no idea, I mean, I have been short my entire life.. Why do we take what others "perceive" us as to heart? Why does it matter how tall we are, or how short we are? I see advantages to both.
When I was in high school, I was a cheerleader. I hated sports that all the athletic girls would play. Plus, my grandmother would say, "Your to short to be a basketball player." How did she know that I was not the "best player my age?" She assumed since I was short, that I would not make a good basketball player. Maybe she was right. That I will never know, but I lived under the "perception" that I wouldn't, so I never even tried.
Recently, Kade came to me and said, "Mom, I am the 3rd oldest in my class, and the 3rd shortest." The look of sadness on his face was unbearable. I have been there...I, too, was in the same position as him in school, and we all know how "nice" kids can be! I told Kade that he is "perfect the way he is. That God made him that tall and there is nothing we can do about it. You are given the genes you have and wishing you were another way, is a wasted wish." I realize this is hard for a 10 year old to understand, but he does not have tall parents. So, how do you teach a 10 year old something that has taken me 38 years to understand?
So, I begin by telling him some of the advantages of being short. 1. When we fall, we don't have as far to go to hit the ground. 2. We never have to worry about our pants being to short. 3. We never have to worry about a couch not being long enough for us to stretch our legs out. 4. We can jump higher on a trampoline (at least it looks like we do). 5. We don't have to duck for low ceilings. 6. We don't have to purchase those platforms to put our front loader washer and dryer's on. 7. We don't have to bend over as far when getting something from the floor or a lower cabinet...8. We become creative in ways to get things down from high up. 9. Our feet are usually smaller. 10. We don't have to dust top shelves because we can't reach them OR see the dust lingering up there!"
Kade looked at me like I was crazy. I said, "Right now it these things don't matter to you, but believe me, they will." "But, Mom, the kids in my class make fun of me all the time." I respond, with a broken heart, "Kade, we can't change what we are given. We can't wish we were someone else because you are wasting your time. You are beautiful the way God made you, and if you were taller, you would not be Kade." I know this is hard for a 10 year old to grasp, but he will. See, what he lacks in height, he makes up in strength. I say, "Kade, you are the strongest boy I know. You are a fast runner, you are built strong! These kids in your class know this, so they pick on you for being short because that is the only things they have to use against you. They are jealous."
"Don't waste your life worrying about what others "think" of you...bask in the glory of being strong, athletic, and fast!"
Teaching your kids to love themselves is so hard. I spend all day building him up so he can go to school and be knocked down. It is such a cruel world. But we can't shelter them forever. At some point they have to learn what the world is like. I truly believe, that if you love yourself first, the rest is pointless. I am trying to give them a strong foundation and strong self-worth, so no one can knock the down...
Tall, short, chubby, skinny, acne, no acne....we are not perfect. We are who we are...and as long as we treat people with respect, love, and have empathy, we are on the right track. So, as I type this, I am getting ready to head to Walmart again. I will welcome the close to empty shelves, I will not be shy to ask for assistance. I mean, not everyone gets to climb the shelves of Walmart and balance to grab the toilet paper! And I will continue to do so because, nowhere in the near future will I grow to be anything above 5' 2", and that is on a good day....IN HEALS!
Loving my short self!
Shelby
Sunday, March 3, 2013
It is JUST a NUMBER!
As I go to step on the scale, I take a step back. Why am I doing this? Why does it matter what it says? Why do people put so much emphasis on what the scale says? It is not a reflection of your heart, it is not a reflection of your likes and dislikes. It is just a number that I put way to much stock in.
Recently, I had to write 3 goals down for myself. Two of them had to do with running, and the third was I wanted to weigh 125! Why? Really? What a stupid goal I set for myself. Sure, I could easily get down to 125, but will prove me to be healthy and happy? Absolutely NOT! It is just a number, a number that will not define me, a number that will have no control of me as a person, and a number that will never have control over me.
I feel this way about age also. I recently turned 38! I know!! I have to put a little hair die in my hair occasionally, and I noticed around my mouth getting a little saggy! But other than that...I feel like I am in my twenties. I could get down on myself really fast thinking that I am closer to 40 than 30...but I refuse to do that. I remember thinking when I was younger, that 40 was so far away...and now that it is getting closer, I am ready to embrace it. With all the new changes I have made in my life...my goal for 40 is to be even healthier than I am today.
I understand that the number on the scale can benefit many...I mean, you set goals according to that number. But, I think the emphasis should be the amount you lost...not how much you still need to go. I recently was talking with a friend. She has started her journey to getting healthy. As we were talking, she was so excited about her weight loss. I said "how much have you lost?" she said "ONLY 17lbs." as if it was not that much. I said ONLY 17LBS??? that is fantastic!!! I said "NEVER cut down your accomplishment...I am so proud of you"...but what I loved about our conversation, was she has dropped 3 or 4 pants sizes and the excitement in her voice was worth so much more than how far she still has to go. Which by the way, I saw her and she looks wonderful! And she can hold her own running against a girl that has been training for months to run a half marathon. I think that counts for so much! Her weight on the scale means nothing...if you really think about it :)
I wish I could take back those goals I wrote for myself for the New Year. I would not have down that I wish to weigh 125. I would put down, that I want to be strong, I want to be fast, and I want to be healthy. I am at the point that I don't care what it says...I actually do not even own a scale, I am guilty of stepping on my fitness instructors scale at least once a week! I notice that I feel depressed when I am up a pound or two, and I just need to STOP! I could be up from my training for the half, I could be up because I am a girl, and lets face it...we fluctuate in our weight at least once a month! I could be up from gaining muscle. There are SO many factors as to what that scale reads, but it is amazing how down on ourselves we can be. I am also done thinking about me getting "old" lets face it, there is nothing we can do about that number either. We are only as old as we feel, and I feel way younger than 38!
NO MORE! It will kill me, but I am here to say, I am done with the scale and worrying about getting old. As long as I am eating right, working out, and running, that scale and my age can say/be whatever it wants. It will NOT define me...It will NOT control my life...after all...IT IS JUST A NUMBER.
Till next time...
Shelby
Recently, I had to write 3 goals down for myself. Two of them had to do with running, and the third was I wanted to weigh 125! Why? Really? What a stupid goal I set for myself. Sure, I could easily get down to 125, but will prove me to be healthy and happy? Absolutely NOT! It is just a number, a number that will not define me, a number that will have no control of me as a person, and a number that will never have control over me.
I feel this way about age also. I recently turned 38! I know!! I have to put a little hair die in my hair occasionally, and I noticed around my mouth getting a little saggy! But other than that...I feel like I am in my twenties. I could get down on myself really fast thinking that I am closer to 40 than 30...but I refuse to do that. I remember thinking when I was younger, that 40 was so far away...and now that it is getting closer, I am ready to embrace it. With all the new changes I have made in my life...my goal for 40 is to be even healthier than I am today.
I understand that the number on the scale can benefit many...I mean, you set goals according to that number. But, I think the emphasis should be the amount you lost...not how much you still need to go. I recently was talking with a friend. She has started her journey to getting healthy. As we were talking, she was so excited about her weight loss. I said "how much have you lost?" she said "ONLY 17lbs." as if it was not that much. I said ONLY 17LBS??? that is fantastic!!! I said "NEVER cut down your accomplishment...I am so proud of you"...but what I loved about our conversation, was she has dropped 3 or 4 pants sizes and the excitement in her voice was worth so much more than how far she still has to go. Which by the way, I saw her and she looks wonderful! And she can hold her own running against a girl that has been training for months to run a half marathon. I think that counts for so much! Her weight on the scale means nothing...if you really think about it :)
I wish I could take back those goals I wrote for myself for the New Year. I would not have down that I wish to weigh 125. I would put down, that I want to be strong, I want to be fast, and I want to be healthy. I am at the point that I don't care what it says...I actually do not even own a scale, I am guilty of stepping on my fitness instructors scale at least once a week! I notice that I feel depressed when I am up a pound or two, and I just need to STOP! I could be up from my training for the half, I could be up because I am a girl, and lets face it...we fluctuate in our weight at least once a month! I could be up from gaining muscle. There are SO many factors as to what that scale reads, but it is amazing how down on ourselves we can be. I am also done thinking about me getting "old" lets face it, there is nothing we can do about that number either. We are only as old as we feel, and I feel way younger than 38!
NO MORE! It will kill me, but I am here to say, I am done with the scale and worrying about getting old. As long as I am eating right, working out, and running, that scale and my age can say/be whatever it wants. It will NOT define me...It will NOT control my life...after all...IT IS JUST A NUMBER.
Till next time...
Shelby
Monday, February 4, 2013
There is always ONE sock left!
There it is, lurking in corners, left in a room, fallen from the clothes basket, and hiding under furniture! It is the one sock...the ONE sock that did not make it to the laundry room. The one sock reminding me to wash clothes, fold the laundry, and put all of it away. Any time, at any point, I can find that one sock. Everyday, it is staring at me and everyday I make the extra trek downstairs to add it to the other laundry.
This is where I found "that sock" today! Hiding under the chair in the living room....How did it get there? Who knows, but as I bent down to pick it up, I realized that this sock is more than just a sock...it is a symbol of so much more.
.
Now I know you are wondering, how can a sock be so much more than an annoyance? So much more than just a sock...but think about it...why would these socks be laying around? Just to annoy me? See, during my days, I am driven crazy by the laundry. It is always there, it is never gone. But if it was gone, what would that mean? It would mean that my baby's are grown up, moved out, and someone else is doing their laundry. That my job as the "laundry maid" is done. Now, I know I will always have my socks and Larry's socks, but those socks are never left behind. It is always the boys socks.
I am not a fan of laundry. I hate the cold basement, the cold floor, and the boring task of it all. A couple of years ago, Larry bought me a brand new beautiful front loader washer and dryer. Oh, I was so excited! They brought my beautiful new washer and dryer in, hooked her up, and were standing proud for me to use. They were so nice and clean...so updated and so sparkly (Yes, I said sparkly!!!). I immediately ran upstairs and grabbed all the laundry I could find. Ripped the bedding off of every bed, and collected all the towels available. How I could not wait to use these massive, new creatures. I started the first load and stood there in amazement. I could hardly hear it running. The drum began to rotate, and I literally was in love.
The love affair with my new washer and dryer lasted a few weeks. I loved to hear the little tune they both played when the cycles were finished. I would instantly run downstairs to collect the clean clothes. They smelled so fresh and clean. I even loved it so much, I did not hang any clothes out on the line...but like everything else, the novelty wore off.
Slowly, the loads would pile up and the dread of the trek downstairs was back. Soon after this, is when I noticed the "one sock" that never made it the basement. I literally would be coming back from taking all of the dirty clothes to the basement, and I would notice the sock staring at me in a corner somewhere. Did I drop it? Did one of the boys put it there? How on earth? I ran to pick it up and brought it downstairs to its partner in crime. The next time I brought a load down, the same thing...in a corner, laid a dirty sock...taunting me!
This has been going on for months...If not years. The other day it hit me like a load of bricks...These socks are left around as a reminder that my blessings are near. These socks are not "taunting" me. They are reminding me what is important in my life. What would happen if I came upstairs and found no socks? How would I feel? I think at first, I would be relieved...but then it would sink in. Who am I doing laundry for? Where is the sock that got away? I could see myself looking in their usual hiding places, and I could see myself being devastated...no sock...no extra loads, and no sock to find its match with.
As I step back and think about it, who really cares that one sock fell from the basket, got thrown in a corner, or did not get picked up? Who minds taking the laundry downstairs and switching it over? If it means that I am still taking care of my blessings, then I am OK with that. It means my children are safe, home, and still relying on me. Some things just takes a little different perspective to really see what something symbolizes. A sock is just a sock to many, but to me...it is so much more...So, keep falling out of the basket and landing in crazy places. I truly look forward to finding your next hiding spot...and really, who could not use an extra trek up and down the basement stairs? I know I sure could!
Counting my socks as blessings,
Shelby
This is where I found "that sock" today! Hiding under the chair in the living room....How did it get there? Who knows, but as I bent down to pick it up, I realized that this sock is more than just a sock...it is a symbol of so much more.
Now I know you are wondering, how can a sock be so much more than an annoyance? So much more than just a sock...but think about it...why would these socks be laying around? Just to annoy me? See, during my days, I am driven crazy by the laundry. It is always there, it is never gone. But if it was gone, what would that mean? It would mean that my baby's are grown up, moved out, and someone else is doing their laundry. That my job as the "laundry maid" is done. Now, I know I will always have my socks and Larry's socks, but those socks are never left behind. It is always the boys socks.
I am not a fan of laundry. I hate the cold basement, the cold floor, and the boring task of it all. A couple of years ago, Larry bought me a brand new beautiful front loader washer and dryer. Oh, I was so excited! They brought my beautiful new washer and dryer in, hooked her up, and were standing proud for me to use. They were so nice and clean...so updated and so sparkly (Yes, I said sparkly!!!). I immediately ran upstairs and grabbed all the laundry I could find. Ripped the bedding off of every bed, and collected all the towels available. How I could not wait to use these massive, new creatures. I started the first load and stood there in amazement. I could hardly hear it running. The drum began to rotate, and I literally was in love.
The love affair with my new washer and dryer lasted a few weeks. I loved to hear the little tune they both played when the cycles were finished. I would instantly run downstairs to collect the clean clothes. They smelled so fresh and clean. I even loved it so much, I did not hang any clothes out on the line...but like everything else, the novelty wore off.
Slowly, the loads would pile up and the dread of the trek downstairs was back. Soon after this, is when I noticed the "one sock" that never made it the basement. I literally would be coming back from taking all of the dirty clothes to the basement, and I would notice the sock staring at me in a corner somewhere. Did I drop it? Did one of the boys put it there? How on earth? I ran to pick it up and brought it downstairs to its partner in crime. The next time I brought a load down, the same thing...in a corner, laid a dirty sock...taunting me!
This has been going on for months...If not years. The other day it hit me like a load of bricks...These socks are left around as a reminder that my blessings are near. These socks are not "taunting" me. They are reminding me what is important in my life. What would happen if I came upstairs and found no socks? How would I feel? I think at first, I would be relieved...but then it would sink in. Who am I doing laundry for? Where is the sock that got away? I could see myself looking in their usual hiding places, and I could see myself being devastated...no sock...no extra loads, and no sock to find its match with.
As I step back and think about it, who really cares that one sock fell from the basket, got thrown in a corner, or did not get picked up? Who minds taking the laundry downstairs and switching it over? If it means that I am still taking care of my blessings, then I am OK with that. It means my children are safe, home, and still relying on me. Some things just takes a little different perspective to really see what something symbolizes. A sock is just a sock to many, but to me...it is so much more...So, keep falling out of the basket and landing in crazy places. I truly look forward to finding your next hiding spot...and really, who could not use an extra trek up and down the basement stairs? I know I sure could!
Counting my socks as blessings,
Shelby
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Obsessed
What makes someone obsessed? Is it when they do something over and over again? Or is when they "feel" like they have to do it over and over again because they won't be happy? Are you obsessed when you are committed to something or someone? Obsessed when you do something that makes you happy on a daily basis? Obsession is so interesting to me...Why?
Because recently, I have had so many people say to me..."Your working out daily is turning into an obsession." or "Running 8 miles is nothing but an obsession." Really? This floors me. When I was not working out, people would say "You should really walk every day" or "Are you getting enough exercise?" and "You need time to yourself and you need to take better care of yourself." I begin to do those things and now guess what? IT IS CONSIDERED AN OBSESSION!
I can't win! I drink coffee everyday, is that an obsession? I take care of my kids everyday, is that an obsession? My husband goes to work everyday, is that an obsession? I could go on and on...It floors me that when people make a lifestyle change and incorporate it into their daily activities, it can quickly become known as an "obsession." I have made a personal choice to eat healthy, live healthy, and I refuse to let others negative thoughts bring me down.
I know that the people that are saying these things are concerned for me. I know they love me, but loving me would be saying they are proud of me...and that they can't wait for me to cross the finish line at the 13.1 mile marker. My mom is constantly saying that I am going to die if I run that race. She actually said "I can't go and watch you do that to your body." OMG! How does that make me feel? I am a healthy 37 year old women, who is training and will not die when I run that 1/2 marathon! These negative feelings make me feel like I can't do it and that I am crazy for even trying.
Granted I understand that a year ago, this was not my lifestyle...but making a change, a good change, should be welcomed with open arms. If I had changed a year ago to eating nothing but fried food, would that be considered an obsession? That is what I don't understand. I have never called my mom and said "you are obsessed with eating like crap. You eat pizza and drink coke everyday." Changing your lifestyle does not equal obsession.
Yes, I workout EVERYDAY and I will continue to do so. I wake up at 4:00 A.M to meet my amazing group and we kill our workouts! My day does not start out right if I skip my workout. I love coming home sweaty, and gross. I love grabbing my coffee after I have showered and sit by the fire. This is my "alone" time. The time before my hectic day begins. The time before I get my kids up for school. The time before I am back to being a mom.
I will continue to strengthen my muscles and become toned, and I will continue to run 8 miles once a week and actually start up-ing my miles during the week. If that is called an obsession, that fine! I am the happiest I have ever been...I am the healthiest, strongest, thinnest, my asthma is pretty much gone, and I have found and formed amazing relationships.
Running and exercising has become the new me...Please love me for who I am now, please be supportive and proud of me. I could of taken up something way worse..I love being strong and healthy, and I realized that I am doing this for ME, and in the process I am teaching my children the importance of a healthy lifestyle. Maybe they will want to run. Maybe they will see the amazing benefits that I have experienced. I realized that by writing this post, its not about obsession, but about LOVING myself enough to make a change. It is about FINALLY being happy in my own skin. PROUD of my accomplishments, and EXCITED for what is to come. To me, that is the BEST OBSESSION anyone could ask for!
Till Next Time My Friends,
Shelby
Because recently, I have had so many people say to me..."Your working out daily is turning into an obsession." or "Running 8 miles is nothing but an obsession." Really? This floors me. When I was not working out, people would say "You should really walk every day" or "Are you getting enough exercise?" and "You need time to yourself and you need to take better care of yourself." I begin to do those things and now guess what? IT IS CONSIDERED AN OBSESSION!
I can't win! I drink coffee everyday, is that an obsession? I take care of my kids everyday, is that an obsession? My husband goes to work everyday, is that an obsession? I could go on and on...It floors me that when people make a lifestyle change and incorporate it into their daily activities, it can quickly become known as an "obsession." I have made a personal choice to eat healthy, live healthy, and I refuse to let others negative thoughts bring me down.
I know that the people that are saying these things are concerned for me. I know they love me, but loving me would be saying they are proud of me...and that they can't wait for me to cross the finish line at the 13.1 mile marker. My mom is constantly saying that I am going to die if I run that race. She actually said "I can't go and watch you do that to your body." OMG! How does that make me feel? I am a healthy 37 year old women, who is training and will not die when I run that 1/2 marathon! These negative feelings make me feel like I can't do it and that I am crazy for even trying.
Granted I understand that a year ago, this was not my lifestyle...but making a change, a good change, should be welcomed with open arms. If I had changed a year ago to eating nothing but fried food, would that be considered an obsession? That is what I don't understand. I have never called my mom and said "you are obsessed with eating like crap. You eat pizza and drink coke everyday." Changing your lifestyle does not equal obsession.
Yes, I workout EVERYDAY and I will continue to do so. I wake up at 4:00 A.M to meet my amazing group and we kill our workouts! My day does not start out right if I skip my workout. I love coming home sweaty, and gross. I love grabbing my coffee after I have showered and sit by the fire. This is my "alone" time. The time before my hectic day begins. The time before I get my kids up for school. The time before I am back to being a mom.
I will continue to strengthen my muscles and become toned, and I will continue to run 8 miles once a week and actually start up-ing my miles during the week. If that is called an obsession, that fine! I am the happiest I have ever been...I am the healthiest, strongest, thinnest, my asthma is pretty much gone, and I have found and formed amazing relationships.
Running and exercising has become the new me...Please love me for who I am now, please be supportive and proud of me. I could of taken up something way worse..I love being strong and healthy, and I realized that I am doing this for ME, and in the process I am teaching my children the importance of a healthy lifestyle. Maybe they will want to run. Maybe they will see the amazing benefits that I have experienced. I realized that by writing this post, its not about obsession, but about LOVING myself enough to make a change. It is about FINALLY being happy in my own skin. PROUD of my accomplishments, and EXCITED for what is to come. To me, that is the BEST OBSESSION anyone could ask for!
Till Next Time My Friends,
Shelby
Friday, January 11, 2013
A New Year...A NEW ME!
Dear Friends,
I have gone missing once again. This is partially because so much has been going on. My four children keep me right on my toes. Summer came and went, School started, Fall was upon us, friendships ended, and new ones began, Christmas adorned us, and we rang in the New Year! 2012 was one of many proportions.
Last May, I started on a very interesting journey. A Fitness Journey. I have never been one to exercise. I mean, I took dance lessons when I was a little girl and up through the beginning of high school. I also was always a cheerleader...but NEVER one to really "workout." I decided to try a Zumba class, which began me on a incredible journey.
I enrolled in a Boot-camp. Now, this was something I could of never of foreseen me doing. But I had determination. See, I had baggage that I NEEDED to get rid of...emotional and very personnel baggage. So, instead of focusing on what was killing me inside, I decided to face it head on, and take control through my fitness.
The first day of boot-camp we had to run a mile. My instructor, Kristy and I, still laugh about this. Lets just say, it was NOT pretty. It took me 14 minutes to run/walk that one mile. I was EXHAUSTED when I was done. I thought there was no way I would make it through the month of boot-camp if I could not even run/walk one time around the track. But, I was not the first one to finish, nor was I the last...so, there was hope!
Boot-camp was tough...through the whole experience, Kristy would say..."Just wait for the end evaluation. You will not believe the results." We all pushed so hard and Kristy pushed us further. The level of toughness could not be compared to anything I had been involved in before...But I made it! I finished! I ran my second one-mile evaluation at 10:52...I lost 4lbs and 8 inches. I was HOOKED!
I signed up for Kristy's second boot-camp and decided to take up running! Yes! you heard me right! On the days that I did not have Zumba, Body Pump, Cardio Jam, or Boot-camp I would run. At first, it was one mile, slowly working up to two. It would take me 30 minutes to do those two miles...sometimes more...but I never gave up. At the end of the second boot-camp I was running my mile at around 9:30..and I lost 2lbs and 9 inches!!! 9 INCHES!!! I had gone from wearing a size 11 to a 7...It was life changing for me...and a new passion was born.
As I continued to workout daily, toning became a passion along with my running. I began running 3 miles...then 4. Kristy would constantly tell me..."If you can run 4, can run 5, and if you run 5...you can run 6" She also began to put little hints here and there...like "Oh, your almost running a 5K" or "Before you know it, you will be up to a 10K." NOPE, I kept saying...I just don't think marathon running is for me. I was doing it out of pure motivation to be fit emotionally and physically It was never something I cared about doing...It was something I would of thought was insane for others to do!
Well, guess what? I was WRONG! We had a weight loss challenge around Christmas time. Most people gain on average (I believe) 5 lbs over the holiday's. Well, I had been working to hard to do that...so, I joined Kristy's Biggest Loser Challenge. I knew I would not win the challenge...I just wanted to use it to keep me in tack. And it did! and I ended up losing another 2lbs...By now, I had dropped even another size and was down to a 5...This was astonishing to me! Even through high school and years after...I had never been a 5! Anyway, at the end of the challenge, we had a finale workout. At this workout, we were to write our goals for 2013 on a piece of paper and put it in a container that Kristy kept. In 6 months, we meet back again and open the jar and see how our goals are coming. I was standing in the workout room staring at my paper...but I was to scared to actually write down what I had been considering. I was the last one to turn in my folded piece of paper. I watched Kristy close up the container and right then and there I was committed! There was no going back! A new goal...A new ME had been established
3 goals were written down that day...1. To continue on the path I have been on. Eating healthy, working out, and taking time for me! 2. To RUN the Mackinaw Bridge. This was something I had wanted to do at the end of last year, but my confidence level was not there...basically, I chickened out! Well, NOT THIS YEAR! I have a horrible fear of heights...I WILL RUN the bridge and cross at the 6.4 mile mark! 3. I WILL RUN A HALF MARATHON! 13.1 MILES! I WILL RUN THE CHARLEVIOX, MI. BOSTON QUALIFYING MARATHON....June 22, 2013!
And so the training begins! I know it is not a FULL marathon, but that is OK I have to have another goal for next year right? The thought of running for 13.1 miles straight is so scary. But as of today, I am up to 7.5 miles in 1 hour and 13 minutes! Not bad for a girl with asthma who hated to run a year ago!!!
Running has taught me so much. It really has been a life saver for me. My mind is more focused, my heart is not broken, I am working on fixing emotional baggage...all while my feet pound the pavement. I have a new found confidence that I never knew existed I am actually proud of my body and see changes and muscles I did not even know I had. My appetite is completely different and the food I use to fuel my body is much more beneficial to my muscles and health. Making this change has changed my life...it has made me whole. If I have a bad day, I can say to Larry, I need to run...and I come back relaxed and ready to deal with what is ahead of me...I am not sure if people really understand what this past year has been for me. Life changing in so many ways, and the day I decided to sign up for that boot-camp, was the day everything changed.
I am now stronger, happier, healthier than I have ever been. I can lift weights that I never thought possible. I find it hard to believe that at 37, I have put my health first with fitness. I find it unbelievable that I have the confidence to run, and I am astonished that at 38, I WILL CROSS THE FINISH LINE!
Till Next Time....
Shelby
I have gone missing once again. This is partially because so much has been going on. My four children keep me right on my toes. Summer came and went, School started, Fall was upon us, friendships ended, and new ones began, Christmas adorned us, and we rang in the New Year! 2012 was one of many proportions.
Last May, I started on a very interesting journey. A Fitness Journey. I have never been one to exercise. I mean, I took dance lessons when I was a little girl and up through the beginning of high school. I also was always a cheerleader...but NEVER one to really "workout." I decided to try a Zumba class, which began me on a incredible journey.
I enrolled in a Boot-camp. Now, this was something I could of never of foreseen me doing. But I had determination. See, I had baggage that I NEEDED to get rid of...emotional and very personnel baggage. So, instead of focusing on what was killing me inside, I decided to face it head on, and take control through my fitness.
The first day of boot-camp we had to run a mile. My instructor, Kristy and I, still laugh about this. Lets just say, it was NOT pretty. It took me 14 minutes to run/walk that one mile. I was EXHAUSTED when I was done. I thought there was no way I would make it through the month of boot-camp if I could not even run/walk one time around the track. But, I was not the first one to finish, nor was I the last...so, there was hope!
Boot-camp was tough...through the whole experience, Kristy would say..."Just wait for the end evaluation. You will not believe the results." We all pushed so hard and Kristy pushed us further. The level of toughness could not be compared to anything I had been involved in before...But I made it! I finished! I ran my second one-mile evaluation at 10:52...I lost 4lbs and 8 inches. I was HOOKED!
I signed up for Kristy's second boot-camp and decided to take up running! Yes! you heard me right! On the days that I did not have Zumba, Body Pump, Cardio Jam, or Boot-camp I would run. At first, it was one mile, slowly working up to two. It would take me 30 minutes to do those two miles...sometimes more...but I never gave up. At the end of the second boot-camp I was running my mile at around 9:30..and I lost 2lbs and 9 inches!!! 9 INCHES!!! I had gone from wearing a size 11 to a 7...It was life changing for me...and a new passion was born.
As I continued to workout daily, toning became a passion along with my running. I began running 3 miles...then 4. Kristy would constantly tell me..."If you can run 4, can run 5, and if you run 5...you can run 6" She also began to put little hints here and there...like "Oh, your almost running a 5K" or "Before you know it, you will be up to a 10K." NOPE, I kept saying...I just don't think marathon running is for me. I was doing it out of pure motivation to be fit emotionally and physically It was never something I cared about doing...It was something I would of thought was insane for others to do!
Well, guess what? I was WRONG! We had a weight loss challenge around Christmas time. Most people gain on average (I believe) 5 lbs over the holiday's. Well, I had been working to hard to do that...so, I joined Kristy's Biggest Loser Challenge. I knew I would not win the challenge...I just wanted to use it to keep me in tack. And it did! and I ended up losing another 2lbs...By now, I had dropped even another size and was down to a 5...This was astonishing to me! Even through high school and years after...I had never been a 5! Anyway, at the end of the challenge, we had a finale workout. At this workout, we were to write our goals for 2013 on a piece of paper and put it in a container that Kristy kept. In 6 months, we meet back again and open the jar and see how our goals are coming. I was standing in the workout room staring at my paper...but I was to scared to actually write down what I had been considering. I was the last one to turn in my folded piece of paper. I watched Kristy close up the container and right then and there I was committed! There was no going back! A new goal...A new ME had been established
3 goals were written down that day...1. To continue on the path I have been on. Eating healthy, working out, and taking time for me! 2. To RUN the Mackinaw Bridge. This was something I had wanted to do at the end of last year, but my confidence level was not there...basically, I chickened out! Well, NOT THIS YEAR! I have a horrible fear of heights...I WILL RUN the bridge and cross at the 6.4 mile mark! 3. I WILL RUN A HALF MARATHON! 13.1 MILES! I WILL RUN THE CHARLEVIOX, MI. BOSTON QUALIFYING MARATHON....June 22, 2013!
And so the training begins! I know it is not a FULL marathon, but that is OK I have to have another goal for next year right? The thought of running for 13.1 miles straight is so scary. But as of today, I am up to 7.5 miles in 1 hour and 13 minutes! Not bad for a girl with asthma who hated to run a year ago!!!
Running has taught me so much. It really has been a life saver for me. My mind is more focused, my heart is not broken, I am working on fixing emotional baggage...all while my feet pound the pavement. I have a new found confidence that I never knew existed I am actually proud of my body and see changes and muscles I did not even know I had. My appetite is completely different and the food I use to fuel my body is much more beneficial to my muscles and health. Making this change has changed my life...it has made me whole. If I have a bad day, I can say to Larry, I need to run...and I come back relaxed and ready to deal with what is ahead of me...I am not sure if people really understand what this past year has been for me. Life changing in so many ways, and the day I decided to sign up for that boot-camp, was the day everything changed.
I am now stronger, happier, healthier than I have ever been. I can lift weights that I never thought possible. I find it hard to believe that at 37, I have put my health first with fitness. I find it unbelievable that I have the confidence to run, and I am astonished that at 38, I WILL CROSS THE FINISH LINE!
Till Next Time....
Shelby
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