Celebration Of The Little Things...

I've been blogging on and off since about 2006 and I always seem to come back to it as I find writing meditative therapy most of the time. I've also learned that I tend to 'hide from the 'real' world and while that's ok in small doses, it's too easy to forget that some times. I'm trying to learn to have more balance in all things and remind myself to celebrate the little things. 

Back when I first started the 'old' Lemon Stand blog I tried to write down what was important to me. The old blog unfortunately is long gone but I kept some of those pages to give myself a point of reference. A reminder to celebrate the little things. It's also one of the posts my family and friends often ask about.

So whether or not you've already made New Year's resolutions, here's a reminder of the 'smaller' picture.

2006
Celebrations Of The Little Things…

Every once in a while, I think we are all given little 'Wake Up' calls. Either something happens to someone we know or someone says something to you that really resonates with something inside of you (if you have a heart) and the little voice that resides in everyone (who has a conscience) prods us to remember to celebrate the little things. It’s easy to celebrate holidays and some of us can remember birthdays and anniversaries (if we have a memory).

 I think that I didn’t learn this lesson early enough in my life. I’m left with a lot of shoulda, coulda, woulda moments of regret that need to be replaced with the celebration of life, in the moment.

Did you notice how fast your parents and siblings were growing when you, yourself were a child? Did you think about or even realize that there would soon come to a time when because of school, work, military service, marriage, and all the other myriad of detritus that life hands you, that you would no longer live with them?  In many cases you would physically live far away from them?  I don’t ever remember stopping long enough to take an actual or mental picture of those days in my mind to keep in my memories.

 The years flew by, I don’t know where they have all gone but I have very few actual photographs of my childhood, school, military service, my husband and I when we were first married. There are lots of pictures of Nicole when she was a baby. The pictures, however, become scarce as the rest of the children came along. It is not because we were any less proud of them or happy that they came along. I think that the worries of everyday life become exponential with each child. Worries that eat at our ability to enjoy life in the moment. We are even less likely to stop and celebrate the little things in life.

 September 11th gave many people I know the wake up call I speak of, but like human nature often is, the lesson, no matter how horrific in it’s execution, softens with time. We don't forget, but it becomes blurred with age.  I don’t know when this realization happened for me. It was before September 11th. I think it started just after my husband and I got married. I started asking questions of relatives about their lives. I started writing down their stories. I started keeping track of my immediate genealogy, although at the time, I didn’t realize what I was doing. It eventually evolved into tracing both my parents genealogy back to the time their ancestors immigrated to North America. It wasn't far to find the 1st generation American’s. All four of my grandparents came to the United States from Canada and were the first ones to stay. I count myself lucky to know their life stories.

 Our own children are growing so fast. Nicole and Danielle’s childhood moments are overshadowed by the struggle of survival, because both my husband and I separated from active duty within 6 months of each other during the last national economic downfall. We were then blessed with Rachel but like so many other people, we struggled with everyday worries. We both worked 2 and 3 jobs to make ends meet until I became pregnant with Erin, our youngest.

After that, a disability I had received in the military finally left me unable to take care of not only myself but our children. I feel like I have lost about 7 years of my life. It has been a very long road back. During this time, our families and our truly closest friends and family, John and Kelly were what kept us going. 

I have learned to try not to miss the little milestones that come to us every day. They come whether you stop long enough to appreciate them or not. So many times they can pass you by and you mourn their loss when you finally realize they are gone. I forgot where I read that life does not have any ‘do-overs’ but occasionally you will be blessed with a ‘do-again’.

 Despite not having most of my family and friends around lately, I have found pleasure in the moments with Erin. At 8 years old she is still my baby. She is growing and her personality is becoming more pronounced. She tackles life so differently than the other three. I have blown off most of the housework this week. It will keep. I’m going on treasure hunts and exploring the world through the eyes of Erin. I am collecting these moments of time in my memories to be taken out at some future date to be relived and enjoyed again. I am not going to try not having to re-live another moment of regret for this time that I was given with her.

 If you want to know how this lesson solidified in my mind…the moment that I truly learned this lesson… it was the first time my husband was in the mid-east. He would send the kids and I pictures of grass. Yes, you read that right. There was this one spot where everyone threw out their wash water and eventually a straggly excuse for grass started growing. My husband had a picture of himself taken sitting in this 3 ft by 3ft patch of grass. He was cross legged and his eyes were closed. His hands were in the position of someone meditating and saying 'ooooohhhhmmm, ooooohhhhmmmm.' (Man that man cracks me up!)

He also would pick these small flowers that he would find among the rocks. Proof that life will survive in the most unlikeliest and most inhospitable places on earth. They do not stop growing because of the war being waged. Their ability to exist with such beauty is a testament to life. My husband used paper, plastic wrap and cardboard from his care packages to press these flowers. He brought them home to us and when he returns to the mid-east our daughters and I will be using his away time mounting and framing them for our rooms.

 I usually write my quote of the day as a way to wrap up a point to my posts. Today I will only impart my own humble message. “It is not always possible to live in the moment, but when the opportunity does present itself….do not waste it for it is precious and may not come again.”

It's A Wonderful Life...

I love the movie, "It's a Wonderful Life" for so many reasons but especially for setting the mood and focus of the holiday season for me. A renewal of the things that really matter. 

It's not any secret that my family thrives on humor, odd though it may be sometimes, but it works for us and has had the bonus of keeping me sane over the years.  This year, Christmas at our house was normal... well, as normal as our family can be when it comes to Christmas. Come to think of it, I don't think anyone in our quirky family could be considered a poster-child for normality in any sense of the word.  I can live with that.

Our immediate family has a tradition concerning the making and using of Christmas lists that ensure that no matter how much or how little money is available for presents, there will be plenty of cheer, humor and love. I originally posted the traditions many years ago if you want to know the root of the hilarity that can be found here at our house. (Well, most years anyway as life does sometimes get in the way, especially when the deployment rotations come around or other mishap and mayhem. I wouldn't want to make our family sound perfect and completely idyllic (my kids would laugh hysterically because at least 75% of our lives is unbloggable... at least by my standards.)

The Christmas list affair for this year was pretty good. I won't post everyone's lists in their entirety but there are a few items that truly stand out. So as not to embarrass the offspring I'll allow the not so innocent to remain anonymous. (And no. They are not listed in any particular order. And yes, I'm cutting and pasting.)  :)

     ~ I want a clean room. [I had to laugh at this one]
     ~ Seasons of Vampire Diaries on DVD
     ~ Knives of the non-buttery variety
     ~ Vampire Diaries Poster
     ~ Edward Elric's Watch (he’s from Fullmetal Alchemist)
     ~ http://www.tungstenlove.com/vampire-diaries-elena-vervain-necklace THIS ONE I REALLY REALLY REALLY WANT THIS SO BAD!!! [Sense a trend here?]
     ~ Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood seasons
     ~ Cool and interesting apartment illuminating items
     ~ That pen that scans a color and writes in it
     ~ Index cards. Like 200. In different colors
     ~ Fuzzy and/or sleep related items
     ~ The making of Harry Potter [book]
     ~ Tea
     ~ Teapot
     ~ Tivana Tea Gift Cards
     ~ Tea, tea, tea [It must be their father's English, Scottish and Welsh genes... mine all came from Quebec]

At least there wasn't a catapult listed this year.  Now, about these lists... one of our five daughters gave us her list three days before Christmas and Christmas morning she still got to unwrapped a 24 pack roll of toilet paper. (among other gifts) She laughed and said that she surely could use such a useful present.  We were pretty lenient this year, I think. Nary a jock strap in sight for any of our five daughters. A fact I'm sure that crossed each of their minds as they unwrapped each present. Ah the joys of parenthood!

I asked for Erin's list and she said she had given it to her father, so I had my husband email it to me (he was TDY in Florida at the time) and in it he included Rachel's Christmas List. I was happy. A two-fer so I didn't have to stress and send out 'the brute squad'...yet. Nor did I have to call the Emergency Stress Relief Hotline more than once or twice this season so far, so life is good. 

Unfortunately for Rachel, we found out three days before Christmas, whilst having her friends for dinner [No, they were not on the menu... they were our honored guests... um, they dined with us. Lord love the English language because I'm too lazy to go fix my grammar!], that the list her father had sent me... was from her Junior year of High School! [She is now a college Freshman].

Me to Rachel: "That's unfortunate for you as I've been using that list since October."

Rachel: "I didn't write a list this year. What was on the list?" 

After cranking up the computer, I read from her list at the dinner table.

Rachel: "I already have most of the things on it! There is only one thing on that list that I'd still like for Christmas."

Me: "Let me read you Erin's list as the two of you have several of the same things on these two lists. I'll see what I can come up with."

Well, since she didn't write a list this year, I guess it could have been a lot worse... for her. My husband and I could have put our heads together to create her list. That's the rules of this family tradition, after all.

Rachel glared at her father.

"Why did you send her that list?"

Husband: "I didn't!"

Me: "I have the emails right here honey." 

I probably shouldn't have thrown him under the bus like that and now that I think about it, I should go and apologize... maybe... a little later...

Husband: "I don't remember sending it. I only sent Erin's!" 

This time I was kind enough to change the subject.

Just in case you think this episode is truly over? It has become the gift that keeps giving. Let me tell you a little more about the events that are linked to that darn list, although I can only post the latter half of the adventure as the first half is a story best left for another day. I don't strive to be Tolstoy.

So Rachel's boyfriend and best friend were visiting and after she left the room, I told them that the only two things I had actually gotten off the list so far was a book I know she didn't have and the one item she had mentioned as a still viable Christmas List option. (I told them they could come over Christmas morning to watch if they wanted to.)

Her friends said they thought she would love it!

I showed her sisters this gift previously and they all agreed that she would love it!

On Christmas Eve I showed it to my husband and he also agreed she would love it!

...and then he handed it back to me...

...which is why what happened next was truly lamentable...

Yup. I promptly lost it among all the other presents I was wrapping. I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning searching for that darn thing. I removed EVERY item of trash from the trash bags. I looked inside EVERY plastic bag, container, box and paper to no avail. I tore the place apart and then finally I went to bed defeated. I then hoped that it might have gotten wrapped in with some other present so the next morning I explained that there was small gift that had gone on the lam and would they look out for it. I told Rachel that I would not tell her what it was unless no one else came to the rescue before every present was unwrapped.

Unfortunately, my bad luck was holding on to me like it was at a super glue convention and I was the test dummy. So I told Rachel what it was.  At first she was real quiet and then she said,

"And you lost it?" 

She truly would have loved it!

Everyone helped me look for it and when the search was fruitless, I went online and ordered another one so harmony was restored.  This definitely has a silver lining as it means she'll be walking down to the mailbox to get the mail every day until her present arrives.  It's all about the lemonade.

Still, I know there is hope that it will be found before we have to consider the milk carton route. I know this is true because I found the present Rachel had bought Nicole for last year's Christmas celebration whilst wrapping presents for this year.  What a year it's been!

Rachel was a great sport about it and a replacement is coming.

This year I bought all of our daughters union suits (or long handles, traditionally red with a butt flap, but does come in purple) along with thick woolen socks. (This is, after all, New England)  Dumbledore was absolutely right. There's nothing like a pair of warm woolen socks!

Erin was an enormous help this year and spent three days wrapping all the stocking stuffers... individually... even the crayons in the box were not spared her loving touch.  Her sisters watched her do this... for three days. So when Erin opened one of the gift boxes from Rachel, inside the lid was written:

Roses are red
Violets are blue
This box was wrapped empty
Ha! You thought this would rhyme...

Nina was sort of picked on this year in a funny kind of way. I've already mentioned the toilet paper. Nicole and Rachel added their artistic skills and wrapped two bras that were gifts. (this is a family of women and my husband is trained to perfection not to blink an eye at requests to buy things like this before he comes home) It's definitely creative and funny as hell to look at when they were done.

When my husband came home with this tall Darth Vader (it's taller than the lamp) all I could think of was... well one of our daughter's did ask for an attractive male slave. Two out of three adjectives isn't all that bad, is it? Ok. Maybe that should be one out of three adjectives.  [If you are wondering what he is holding, it's a lego platform from years past. If you know our family at all, it won't come as any surprise that our family holds legos, books and chocolate sacred in this house. Not necessarily in that order].

Erin did not escape her father's warped humor as he wrapped the slippers from her list... individually (this is before he knew she had done the same to all of the stocking stuffers). But funnier than that, for Erin he wrapped a bunch of pennies in a box, and another box filled with tissue paper and although an accident, he wrapped and labeled three of the union suits meant for her sisters, as hers.  She was exasperated and told him she didn't need three union suits of various sizes.  The apple never falls far from the tree in this family.

Then I imagine the day continued on in the same fashion as everyone else. Those who were not in their 'jammies' put on their union suits and wool socks and on went the video games (which sometimes can be a wonderful spectator sport), our twenty something daughters pulled out our huge supply of legos (see Darth Vader), and the rest read new books until dinner time.  My husband made prime rib (because he didn't get to the butcher shop until it was closing on Christmas eve and they didn't have the spoon roast that he wanted, so instead they sold him a prime rib roast for the same amount of money! He does hunt and gather rather well, I must say) and although the beloved pumpkin cheesecake was missing this year, it was still a fabulous dinner thanks to my husband!

~~~~~~~~
I miss blogging. I miss the ability to write down all the wonderful blessings I have so that I can let go of whatever is stressing me at the moment.  The problem is... it takes forever for me to write it down and then go back and edit, edit, edit.  We're talking HOURS. Because to publish anything on the web is most likely to remain for my posterity.  I have stopped using facebook and news feeds because I have to face the fact that I am someone who becomes hyper-focused incredibly easily and when I glance at the clock, I panic when I realize that I've just lost four or five hours and have nothing to show for it in terms of housework, physical rehabilitation or just plain stepping out my kitchen door to walk down the driveway.

Unfortunately, this means I rarely write anything anymore and I feel like my life is less colorful than it use to be. There are other things that take priority these days and for the foreseeable future, so I think I will have to be content with whatever I can write, whenever I can write it.

Because I no longer have a following, I don't have to feel I've disappointed anyone by not being consistent. I remember more clearly that I started this blog so many years ago as therapy for the soul and it's ok if it only needs a cactus amount of water to flourish. It has gotten me through some pretty rough times as well as being a place to remember my blessings. Life is short. Live it out loud, in technicolor and with humor at every opportunity.

No quote of the day. Only a very heartfelt Happy Holidays to all who may drop by.

UPDATE: 28 Dec 2013 - Item was NOT found where I was wrapping presents. If I hadn't had the urge to clean out some boxes in the hall, I would never have seen it until I dusted. The last time I dusted was before the kids were born. My mother-in-law assured me that I would someday have a clean house when all of our offspring had left the nest. 

... I'm still waiting for that day and she's not around anymore to tell me when that day might be. It hasn't arrived and four of our kids are over the age of 18. I'm sure she would have laughed and told me that there will come a time when I miss them living at home. I'm beginning to have my doubts...

Black Holes And Universes...

Recently it came to me that almost all of our children have really grown up and instead of being participants in their lives, my husband and I are now merely spectators. I don't feel like we're old enough to have all our children grown yet. Still, I've come to an undeniable truth I didn't know when we started our wonderful and quirky family so many years ago:

"Children are like your own personal black hole that will eat up all your money, all your energy, all your patience, all your soul and your very life and you sometimes wonder why you wanted them... and then one day, you look inside that black hole and you realize that it is not black, nor is it empty, but instead it is now a whole new breathtakingly beautiful, awe inspiring universe just waiting to be explored." ~ by Lemon Stand

It's Not Always About The Funny...

I promised Meleah of Mama Mia, Mea Culpa that I would be brave, dig deep and post about my demons (which I rarely do).  [I think I've actually ended up in China] Meleah's walking a hard road, and I seem to have a lot of friends (Sarah) and family that are also struggling right now with life. My post started to look like the Encyclopedia Britannica so I decided to not reinvent the wheel as you will see below.

I may say that writing about demons is not really what my blog is all about, but that's not quite true.  Meleah made me remember, if I truly want to be honest with myself, why I don't just write this blog for the funny, humorous ways I try to look at things. A way to try to understand why things happen the way they do and that all tears that are shed are not necessarily bad. 

This blog started as a place for me because I don't just want to write, I need to write, and this includes those very few serious posts that dig deep and allows me to rip off the bandage of a hurt to air what is festering within me beneath the surface.  To help heal and be at peace with what causes deep pain within me.  This blog is part of what helps me to stay on track.  It's my map and it almost always shows me the right way. In truth, I find I sometimes have gotten lost without it. I need this compass to reset me in the right direction. 

I keep this blog public because I have found, to my surprise, that I am not alone in my troubles and that is heartening.  I have been told that sometimes, my posts touch and helps to soothe something in someone else's life. The good, the bad, the ugly, the scary and the depressing things are all aired like dirty laundry. Knowing that what helps to heal me helps others is humbling.

So I want to share what this blog means to me. It's a commitment... I believe a commitment is to keep going even when you knowingly or unknowingly let life knock you on your ass.  A commitment is when you try even harder to reach that goal no matter how many bricks are placed in your path, it is a determination to adapt, adjust and overcome. To use those bricks to build a solid foundation that won't allow you to crumble. A commitment is when you look at that brick wall and you automatically start looking for ways to go around it, under it, over it, breaking through it, or when necessary, you paint it with a picture of what you are committed to attaining and then you find a different road to your goal.  

Jimmy Dean once said, "I can't change the direction of the wind, but I can adjust my sails to always reach my destination."

I am like every other human being and get discouraged, lost, depressed or sometimes feel unappreciated.  I need reminders of what is important.  New Year resolutions are an excuse to wait for a certain day to make a commitment to something better for you, your friends or your family.  Just like Alice in Wonderland, instead of celebrating ONE birthday, we should be celebrating EVERY UN-BIRTHDAY.

I have many goals and blessings to remember and be thankful for.  If reading any of this helps someone else take a good long look around on the road they are on, where they are really going, and helps to scrounge up the courage to take that first step that may start a journey of a thousand miles for them, then the fear and humiliation of sharing these things are more than worth it to me. I have made a lot of mistakes, but I choose to look at myself as a work in progress whenever I can.

With all this in mind, I give you my thoughts on the toughest things I've ever faced.  Not for pity, not for attention, not for someone else's amusement.  This is for those who come here to read about keeping it together.  To find humor or a different way of looking at a problem. A different perspective. I pray that I have been lucky enough to have painted many clear mental pictures and that you will find somewhere in the middle of it all a small nugget that will 'speak' to you, maybe give you some small measure of peace...

Feel free to skip this post. This post is not about the funny. There are many people do not want to read of someone else's troubles and how they got through them and I can totally respect that.  I'll be back to the funny soon.  For those that want to know what has kept me sane despite the lobbing of so many lemons then go ahead and click only on those things you feel a need know. There are 11 posts (out of over 500 posts I've written here and on my previous blog) and I doubt anyone one wants that much of me in one day... at least without some serious chocolate or libation. :)  Yes, there are always hints of humor, but I've truly never been more serious in my life. The humor merely helps to ease the pain.

First, I think it's important to know the definition of courage, bravery and change. I used to think I was never brave. That I was a coward all the time for not handling events in my life better.  I was wrong and maybe it's time for you to find out you are too.

Learn to celebrate the little things in life.  “It is not always possible to live in the moment, but when the opportunity does present itself….do not waste it for it is precious and may not come again.” ~ Lemon Stand

Remember to count your blessings. "When you arise in the morning, give thanks for the morning light, for your life and strength. Give thanks for your food, and the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies with yourself."  ~ Tecumseh Shawnee Chief (1768-1813)

Do not allow your past to ruin or take away your future.  Remember, "A man whose yesterdays rest on his horizon travels forward into his past.  The result is that he goes a very long way to nowhere." ~ Catherine Anderson

I have a very deep and personal relationship with depression and if the winter blues or any other form of the depression gets you down.  You are NOT alone.  Far from it.  These were the hardest of all my posts to write. There is no deeper digging that I could do. Depression and PTSD are the 'Nessie' (of Loch Ness fame) in my life and I tried to explain how it affects and has affected my family.  

I've written about Alcoholism. My father's to be exact.  His story is so sad because it is very common.  Then I wrote about the legacy he left me and my final understanding of the 'why' of it and how I escaped his fate.

And lastly I have written about how I can look back and laugh at it all and have discovered there truly is an Instruction Manual of Life.
 

Nessie And I...

Yes, Nessie The Loch Ness Monster,  and I are on a first name basis, but we will never be BFFs!  Nessie and I have been fighting and it's turning into a no-holds-barred, no-rules-applied, knock-down, dragged-out fight.  As I sit here writing this, it's sounds rather comical and if life were all puppy dogs and rainbows this would actually be comical.  As it is, though, there are times when my own personal 'Nessie' wins no matter how hard I fight it.  No matter how many times I tell myself (and everyone around tells me) that there are so many others who have problems that are way more serious than mine.  Most of the time, this works.  But for someone who battles severe depression, panic attacks and PTSD up close and personal, there are times when that statement only makes things worse. 

Of course I know that I am in a way better place than most people.  Here's the thing, though.  Within that very vivid awareness of those other people... my problems are just not important.  I'm not important.  Sometimes, this statement just says, "I have absolutely no right to the emotions and feelings that I am fighting."  Which is why I do not write when I am in this terrible place.  It is why I do not call when I am in this terrible place.  It is why I seem to disappear off the face of the planet and it is why I don't even leave my house when I am in this terrible place.  What right do I have to complain over something I have no control over?  And do you want to know the worst part of all this?  It's the effect it has on my family.  They hurt for me.  They worry for me.  They have learned that they cannot not count on me when I am here in this terrible place.  Which also makes them question whether they can count on me when I am not in this terrible place.  How do you think that makes me feel right at this moment?

It also has an enormous effect on my friends.  They feel they are just not important enough to me when I don't call.  They feel the burden of friendship with someone who they can't be around because it brings them down.  I don't think they're aware that I know how I effect those around me.  That because I care a great deal for them, I do not want to do that to them?

Shielding everyone I care about from the worst of the effects of depression, panic attacks and flashbacks is the only way I can keep going.  Why would I want to share that much despair and misery?  I hope I never turn into that kind of person.  They hurt and have to deal with enough as it is because of me and this incurable illness.  It's a mythical illness to most people, because they can not see or feel how you bleed inside.  Your wounds are not visible, therefore they are not real to them. 

If I have to battle it out with Nessie, then I would rather drag her to my doctor's office where she can't effect those people who are most important to me.  So yes.  It means they can't count on me when I am away at war, so to speak.  That hurts more than anyone could know, but you want to know what would be worse?  The idea that I would ever bring that war home with me.  No.  This is a battle where only I can see the enemy.  Therefore that enemy is as invisible to everyone else as if it were the Loch Ness Monster (only without the colorful and interesting myths surrounding it). 

By the way, this does not mean I am deliberately isolating myself at home with no battle plan in mind... a backup battle plan... and even a backup for the backup battle plan.  It means that I am aware of the need to take care of 'me' so that I can go back to taking care of everyone else.  It is mentally tiring to avoid saying anything negative when I am at this point, so talking with family and friends about anything more important than 'what's for dinner?' becomes very difficult, if not impossible.  Those conversations I save for my therapist.  At least I try to, but there are still times when I can hear myself saying something and cringing in horror inside, but unable to stop the severe diarrhea of the mouth.  I sound bitter, angry, ugly, selfish, and the rest of the negative adjectives Mr. Webster ever published... and a few he probably never even considered.  I decided long ago that when telephone conversations became so stilted and mentally draining by the effort of not just breaking down and crying, it was best not to place the call in the first place.  It's also time to seek more time with the doctor and therapist.The effort to communicate also includes handling the labeling consequences.  The expression on people's faces when, for some reason, I have to explain to them why I am acting like someone just revoked my access to oxygen or I that I have PTSD is almost universal.  Their expressions say, "Oh, my God!  Is she going to go postal?" or "I knew there wasn't something right about her." or "Depression is contagious." If there is one thing I am sure of, it's that I am NOT insane, nor has it ever crossed my mind to hurt anyone (regardless of how irritating they are... although I might make an exception for the person who has been doing the 'snow dance' lately).  As for the "Depression is contagious"?  I'd have to agree with that one.  But it's also true that "Happiness is contagious." 

I think the best way to describe depression and PTSD to give others a frame of reference here is...  depression is like a cold of the mind instead of cold of the body.  If left untreated, it can turn into pneumonia of the mind.  And yes.  Just like this cold bug, untreated, it can eventually kill you.  Even when the worst of the battle is over, just like recuperating from any other severe, physical illness, it takes time to get back on your feet.  I have often wished that I would turn as blue as a Smurf when this hits, so that everyone can see I'm getting sick and then everyone can see when I am better. 

I am so very aware of the effect I have on my family, friends and the world around me, so it's important for me to heal from my invisible illness.  It is why I try to write of good things.  Happy things.  Humorous things.  There is not one person on this flipping planet that does not need something to smile, laugh or feel good about.  It is why I try to go out of my way especially when I am depressed to do something nice for someone else.  It doesn't only make them feel good.  It makes me feel like I can still share a smile, and that if I can do that, then I'm going to be ok.  It might take me a while, but I now know I am going to be ok.

[PS.  Most of my family and friends do not know about my writing outside of this blog, so I'm going to finally  link to a post over at SpouseBUZZ about the "Winter Blues" and depression in general I wrote a while ago.  I included some really great links about what depression IS and what it ISN'T.  And that is really where "Nessie" got her name...(and yes, I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner]

I Think I've Discovered The Cure To Insomnia...

It's called a flu shot! I'm one of the people who can not win when it comes to the flu. If I don't get the flu shot, I get the flu. I DO get the flu shot, I get the flu. I think I will count myself lucky this time though because I have slept close to 24 hours and my eyelids still feel like I put cement eyeliner on them. I'm pretty sure it's not making a new fad in the world of fashion. Not that I seem to be able to stay awake long enough to check on this since.... since.... snore... zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Automated Voice Menus...

Am I the only person who despises having to deal with automated menus when calling a doctor's office to make an appointment or a bank to ask why they suddenly charged you with new banking fees? I feel like my entire morning was wasted on:

1. Automated menus designed to torture someone idiotic enough to want answers.
2. 'Your call is important to us, so please stay on the line and your call will be answered by the next available representative'
3. 'I'm sorry for the wait time, but I need to transfer you to a different department to answer your question.'
4. 'Please enter your account number, zip code and the planet you were born on, followed by the pound sign.' (I've often wondered why the mental picture I have of this symbol is NOT a hatch mark, but instead a battered and bruised face?)
5. 'Can you hold?', 'No! Please don't put me on hold again!' click... 'Hello????'

Which made me dig out a post I did for the Emergency Stress Relief Hotline: 

You have reached the Emergency Stress Relief Hotline, if the cause of your distress is due to a person other than yourself, please press 1 and you will be connected with persons who have similar concerns about this individual.  They will then assist you in making plans on where to hide the body.

If the cause of your distress is due to your own behavior, please press 2 and you will be connected with a large burly male with a size 18 shoe named Sue who will be delighted to arrange for your emergency attitude adjustment appointment.

If the cause of your distress is due to an incident beyond your control, please press 3 and you will be connected to your mother, sibling, spouse or best friend for either a sympathetic ear and hug or an appointment at the nearest pub for a few rounds.  Please be advised that your mother would prefer the former, rather than the latter.

If the cause of your distress is due to an incident you are responsible for, please press 5 and you will be re-enrolled in a Kindergarten class of your choice.  This opportunity is being offered to you since it has been scientifically proven that anything you needed to learn about life, responsibility and getting along with others was learned there and it's obvious that you may need a refresher course. [Unless you happen to be my husband...]

If the cause of your distress is due to a condition you have no control over, please press 6 and you will be connected with your therapist who will once again go over the concept of acceptance of what you can not change.  Afterward, please stay on the line and you will then be enrolled in a therapeutic art class where you may release your emotions onto canvas and then become an overnight sensation of the art world where people will pay you thousands of dollars for your 'angsty' accomplishments.

If the cause of your distress is due to a condition you DO have control over, please press 7 and you will be connected with your Father so that you may receive the benefit of his wisdom.  He will then ask you questions like: why you are allowing yourself to feel distress over something you DO have control over, what are your plans to not only survive this adversity, but to thrive on the opportunity, because really, that's what fathers are for. [Unless you happen to be one of our offspring]

If the cause of your distress is due to the universe in general and bad karma in particular, please press 8 and you will be connected to an astrologist who will read the heavens and tell you exactly what is distressing you and why.  After obtaining this information, please again call the Emergency Stress Relief Hotline phone and press the appropriate number for assistance.

If you truly do not know the cause of your distress, please press 9 and you will be connected with a travel agent who will book you a stay on a deserted isle for as long as needed in which to contemplate your situation.  Please be advised that the accommodations are single occupancy only for the greatest amount of quiet time in which to ponder your life.  Further, be advised that there is no electricity on this deserted island and therefore any electronic devices are discouraged.  When you have returned to civilization, please again call the Emergency Stress Relief Hotline and press the appropriate number for assistance.

For all other questions please press 0 and a customer service representative in India will be with you shortly.  If possible, please have a translator available for a translation of instructions, otherwise our customer service experts will be more than happy to stay on the line and attempt to communicate with you until you understand what they are trying to say or you have finally given up in frustration.

Thank you and have a nice day!

For Whoever Is Doing The Happy Snoopy Snow Dance...

Please sit this dance out or I may have to get ugly and tie your shoes together. 'Kay?

Notes Confirming Life As We Know It Is Back To Normal...

Although I have not been able to do much in the way of blogging this past week, I have been gathering various sticky notes, note pads and receipts that I tend to write on, to capture wonderful family moments. Note to self: make notes more descriptive so I can be more accurate in the details.

I cannot remember exactly when my husband was talking to Erin, but it was not too long after he first got home.  The conversation went something like this (see above note to self about notes):

Husband, "Remind me NEVER to go to war with you. I can hear you now:"

"I can't go into that foxhole, it's too dirty."

"Whoa! Time Out!!! My pack is too heavy, I couldn't possibly be expected to carry it AND march, hike or whatever."

"But, I don't know how to set up a tent... Come to think of it though, we're Air Force... we can just call room service, right?"

Husband, "And if you were a superhero? Your power would be whining at the bad guys until they died just to get away from you."

"Your superhero alias would be Goldilocks:"

"My porridge is too hot. My porridge is too cold..."

Erin, "I really hate you right about now."

QOTD: "Newspaper ad:  Hiring clowns, must be serious." ~ Unknown

The Giving Tree...

It's hard to believe that the 35th Anniversary Edition of this wonderful book is now being sold.  As an entry for The Giving Book Club, The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein is a must.  Some might disagree since it is rather poignant, but it's lessons are worth learning.

If you've never 'read' it (especially to a child) it starts out with, "Once there was a tree...and she loved a little boy." Shel Silverstein children's picture book tells the story of a loving tree who gave and gave and gave, and a boy who grew to want more and more and more.

It's a book worth adding to your Lemonade Shelf bookcase.

The Military PTSD Family...

Although military related PTSD is a huge part of my family's life, I rarely blog about it here.  I'm not absolutely silent about it but this is my place for making lemonade and on the average, most lemons are commonplace lemons.  PTSD is NOT an average or easily handled lemon.  PTSD is a very hard subject for me to face on a daily basis so it is hard for me to write of it.  I write posts in a journal fashion to find a positive point, frame of reference or personal compass direction to my personal life.  I have accepted that my life will never be 'normal', but I have learned be thankful for the little things in life.  Is my life the laugh riot it sometimes seems to be here on my blog? Of course not.

Writing about this part of our lives is extremely painful.  It is a lot to deal with and I have to remind myself often to NOT look at the big picture but to live life moment by moment. However, after reading a post over on SpouseBUZZ, a blog for military spouses and families, I decided that there IS a lot of positive things that have come out of my family's experiences and that it might give hope for some veteran or veteran's family member who are on a part of this road my family has already traveled.  For that reason, I've decided to share my current lemonade recipe.  Current recipe?  Well, yes.  Life is all about change and so the recipe is always adjusting to it.  And no.  I did NOT learn that overnight.  I did not live it for even longer.

I do NOT have any easy answers. Nothing worthwhile in life comes easy, at least I've found that's been very true for me.  This recipe is not some carefully laid out plan to having a happier life for someone who has PTSD (or for their families). Unfortunately (or fortunately depending upon how you look at it) there are some paths you must travel alone to learn from how and where they lead you.

Each and every member of a military member's family serves with the military member and that is an extremely hard concept for 99+ percent of the American population to wrap their minds around. Why? Because LESS than ONE percent are serving in the military today.  Military members can't do what they do without their families. To know the entire family is taking care of the home front whether or not the service member is deployed or not is critical as they work and relate as a unit. A family unit. Those same family members pay a price that is rarely acknowledged. It's hard enough to get help for a veteran with PTSD, getting help for the families, spouses and children is even harder.  In my opinion, an entire military family should be given the opportunity of both individual and family counseling WITHOUT having to get to the point of critical mass before something can be done!

Any wound, visible or not has an enormous effect on the entire family.  A diagnosis of PTSD brings with it the stigmatized 'Flipped Out' behavior attached to it. I am a veteran with PTSD and our entire family has experienced of the inequality of treatment by the general population at large (and within the VA). Once the diagnosis is revealed, for any reason, to a person or entity we often receive the "Oh my God, is this person or a member of their family going to go postal? We don't want to have to deal with the possibility or liability" and you are immediately discouraged, turned away, or flat out denied any kind of relationship to the individual or entity. Is that fair? No. Does it happen? With all too much frequency.

So this recipe begins with a lot of lemons... For about six years I rarely left my house, I did not even have a driver's license because I felt I couldn't LEAVE my house.  Has it gotten better?  Yes.  Why? I finally got a LOT of the help I needed from the right people within, and outside of, the Veteran's Administration.  How much better has it gotten? I can not define what PTSD is like for others, but for me, it had been tearing me and my family apart and we all still have bad days... and nights.  But I HAVE gotten out of my house.  I DO have a valid driver's license now.  Our family has learned and continues to learn how to survive and find a little peace and happiness.

After the first step of getting me some intensive help (for many years) I still felt like a hamster that went on vacation.  The wheel was still spinning, but I wasn't really there.  I was overwhelmed, which I've discovered is a trigger for me.  What is a trigger?  It's something specific that sets off a chain reaction of feelings and actions.  Being overwhelmed for me tends to give me panic attacks that only acerbate the rest of the alphabet soup of medical names for side effects from PTSD.  We have five daughters and I could see the damage from my conditions that left them feeling depressed.  Their feelings of worthlessness, helplessness to control anything in their lives.  I was supposed to be giving them a solid foundation to build belief in themselves and their abilities.  I knew I was failing them, my husband and myself on all fronts.

I couldn't help any of them.  I didn't even know where to start.  My personal therapist recommended going to family therapy.  The reaction of the kids pegged the 'not until Hell freezes over' meter.  I think our youngest was about ten at the time and our eldest was about 17.  After talking it over at length with my husband, I started dragging (and I DO mean mentally DRAGGING!) the kids and we would meet their father at the therapist's office after he got out of work.  Six times.  Once a week.  For six VERY long weeks.  I grew to LOATHE that day of the week.  

It was absolutely horrendous. They did NOT want to go. They did NOT see how it was helping, after all, just getting in the car was just one argument and fight after another. So on that sixth session, I announced that I was through dragging anyone, anywhere.  I was done.  They were right.  The stress of getting everyone even into the car was so negative that a one hour appointment could not overcome it.  

Our wonderful therapist explained to our family that this takes time to see any results.  She was just getting a feel for the family dynamics and we were all learning HOW to hold a conversation in which we ALL had a chance to be heard.  She named off some specific things the kids were peeved with each other and my husband and I.  She then asked each of them individually if they wanted to have a place where they had the right to air ANY grievance without the fear of reprisal.  That they would actually have a vote in finding a solution the entire family could live with.  My husband and I had to agree that we would agree to anything that had a fair majority vote. 

Well, I guess that got their interest enough that everyone was willing to try to improve our home life by giving family therapy at least thirteen sessions.  On the thirteenth, we would vote to see who still wanted to come and who didn't.  Nobody would have to come if they didn't want to.  The kids all decided that they were each willing to give it a little more time. My husband and I agreed to allow their decision to stand without any negative impact.  For the next seven weeks, we all worked on a specific problem for each week and then reported back how we each felt the solution chosen was working.  As an example, one of the earliest problems tackled was the complaint of being responsible for their own breakfast and evening dishes.   After a week of this, none of us were satisfied with the results.  Dishes were still magically appearing used and not taken care of.  So one of the kids suggested we all get a set of different colored dishes and you could only use the ones that were yours.  After this vote, we went and picked out different dishes at Pier One.  This seemed to work a lot better for quite a while... (we have all had to agree that we ALL have gotten the lazy gene so sometimes we really have to still work on this)

Week thirteen came and all agreed to keep coming because each of us were able to express what was bothering us the most without (mostly) any interruption.   The therapist basically plays referee and ensures we abide by certain rules of engagement.  She will sometimes start with a question, ask how our week went, did anyone have anything they really wanted to get off their chest.  We started going to dinner after the appointment because we got out so late. That was four years ago and we are still going even though three of our elder daughters have started college and jobs now. If for some reason one or more can't make it, the rest still go.  In a family of 7, we've had the occasional two or three member meetings.  We've all found there are benefits to this.  So we now all look forward to this time. It's our family time and after the 'family meeting' we go out for what has come to be a very wonderful and happy time.  Dinner or an ice cream cone and then home with a much lighter feeling.

This has by no means solved all our family problems, but it HAS taught us a lot about each person and how to communicate in a way that does not instantly push a particular family member's buttons.  My personal therapy has improved.  I think because there is a little less stress in all of our lives.  We all feel that there ARE a few things that we actually got RIGHT.  There is nothing like a little success every now and then to keep you hopeful.  I totally believe that life is NOT about the destination.  NO ONE is guaranteed another day, hour or minute.  It's what you do with the time that you have been given that will make all the difference to your life, and eventually, the biggest difference for all those important people in your life that you will someday have to leave behind. 

The Armadillo And Land Navigation...

I read about an The Armadillo And Land Navigation once by blogger Claire Shackelford of Colloquial Soliloquy that it was put on my personal list of lemonade.  It made me laugh, it made me think, but even better... when I sometimes feel a little off course, it sets me straight again.  I hope you take the time to read it.  It's the lemonade being served today at The Lemon Stand.

PS And just had to add this because it WASN'T an alligator...

Apparently, I Was Not Clear Enough...

When you need a backhoe...

in the middle of the night...

to dig a trench...

to stop the flood that is entering your basement...

  it's probably a good idea...

to give your friends and neighbors...

 

fair warning of your hunting plans...

because apparently, I was not clear enough the first time...

So please bear with me while I lather, rinse, repeat...

There is NO humor here today... and do you want to know WHY there is no humor here today?  Of course you do!

Our basement is flooding with water...  I just heard the weather forecast for this week announcing, what looks like, another TWO snow storms heading our way.  You will see from the above pictures of our backyard, that we are running out of places to put the snow.  What we NOW have, is Lake Lemon Stand.  I also wish to make clear that our neighbor Larry deserves homage.  HOMAGE, I tell you!  I will be unavailable for the foreseeable future because, at this very moment, I am planning a hunting trip...

If I see someone doing a 'Snow Dance', I will hurt them.

If I hear someone 'Praying for Snow', I will hurt them.

If I feel 'The Force' being manipulated to produce 'Snow', I will hunt the perpetrator(s) down and I will hurt them... and I won't CARE if you are Yoda or even related to Yoda!

If I even smell someone 'thinking'about Snow', I will hurt them.

If I SEE anyone using the word 'Snow' in ANY of it's possible forms as a Key Word in a search engine... end up in my blog stats?  I WILL BE GOING POSTAL!!!!

We have now passed the 'warning stage' and have moved on towards the 'actively hunting down stage'...

IF you are innocent of all of the heinous crimes listed above... you may carry on...  IF, however, you are guilty... I have only ONE word for you... HIDE...