niknaks
Life of a 20-something
Trials and tribulations of a working girl, paying off an obscene amount of student loans and still trying to have a normal life.
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Tuesday’s Truth: No Mask.
a friend posted this on my FB wall today. one on hand, i love having it. i had NO memory of this 3rd grade halloween until i saw it-then everything came back. i remember my mom gold foiling drapery rings to make the earrings and then she tied them to the yarn since i didn’t have my ears pierced.
then what struck me hard is that i made a yarn wig like that for Rafael when she was Sally.
shudder moment: i’ve probably gotten much of my crafty/diy shit from my mom.
i think of how she was when we were young, then how she was when we got older and became that person i have banned from my life since 1998. the person who forgot how to be a mother and became something very different.
and i continue to pray that our similarities end with a yarn wig.
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Such a beautiful tribute..
Mike was a herding dog with no herd.
Though he tried to treat my wife and I like sheep — guiding us to the door when he had to pee or to his dog bowl when he was hungry — the arrival of our boys gave him a clear purpose. And like us, he quickly found himself completely overwhelmed. Sheep, after all, don’t pretend to be ninjas and run screaming up and down the hall.
His default state seemed to be “worried” and the boys’ energy exacerbated that. When they were truly on a tear, he’d often glance at me — face long, eyes full of concern — as if to ask, “Is this normal?” My silent reply, always one of commiseration: “I have no idea.” (Of course, raising him helped prepare me for parenthood in ways I could not have imagined.)
Still, he did what he could. When the boys were babies and adjusting to sleeping in their cribs, he’d spend the nights on the rug in their room. When one of them woke crying, he’d come into our room and nudge one of us. I didn’t have the heart to tell him we’d already heard the cry.
Because of Mike, the boys have a love and respect for animals I’ve not seen in most children. When he stole food from their plate, they got upset that they’d left it within reach, but they never blamed him. And their favorite excuse for getting out of bed at night was always to give him a hug.
Throughout his life, his main concern was just knowing where we were. He’d wake from a nap, notice the house was empty, then wander the halls and, eventually, out into the backyard until he spotted me or my wife or the boys. Once he found us, he’d pick a spot out of the way to lay down. And that, I think, is how I’ll remember him. A quiet family member who just wanted to know we were there, that we were okay.
So strong was his need to find us, he once escaped a mobile groomer’s truck parked in our driveway. Sitting in the living room, my wife and I heard the groomer shouting, “No! No! NO! NOOOO!” Then, Mike came galloping into the living room, dripping wet and covered with suds. He saw us and stopped. That’s all he needed.
As he aged and his eyesight failed him, his searches through the house became longer, more labored. Sometimes, he’d awake from a nap by the couch and set off to find us though we were already right next to him.
He died with his head in my hands as my wife rubbed his ears. Though blind and deaf by that point, I hope in that moment he understood that he didn’t have to search for us, that we were right there.
Now that he’s gone, I find myself waking in the middle of the night to the faint clicks of his toenails on the hardwood, like I used to hear when he searched for us or wanted us to open the door for him to go outside. Each time, as the room comes into focus, the sound goes away — just a memory that refuses to accept the painful truth.
In those moments, I’ll sometimes get out of bed and loop through the living room, down the hall, past the boys’ room. I know he’s no longer in the house, but I guess some part of me keeps looking, just wanting to know that Mike’s there, that he’s okay… That I’m okay.
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A reminder to myself..
The day doesn't end when I arrive home, the day ends when I'm ready to go to sleep.
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I don’t want to be striving for bigger/better/higher/more every minute of every day. I don’t always want to have a larger goal. That just sounds exhausting and, worst of all, completely joyless. I want to enjoy my days.
Kristin Van Ogtrop, managing editor of Real Simple magazine, in the May 2013 issue
I like this.
(via umcanyounot)
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Midnights
Ah, relationships. People say that soon, you'll begin appreciating the moments when you're alone, by yourself, but I think they're wrong. With our lifestyle, there are too many of those moments and I have learned to appreciate the time we have together. The couple of hours we have before it's time to sleep. The full weekend we have together that only occurs, maybe, once a month. The holidays you have off, if your schedule allows. You used to think that I couldn't handle this, that it'd be too much for me. I try my hardest to stay strong for you because I want you to know that you're worth this. We're worth this. And soon, I know that we're going to be that 25%.
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i was the small dog when i first started taking the cta.. after a couple years, i'm now the big dog! lol..
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Being rejected doesn’t make you a failure. It doesn’t make you unloveable or unwanted. It doesn’t discount all the people who love and care about you. And it doesn’t mean you’re inadequate. All rejection means is that the relationship wasn’t the right fit. And just because a connection was lacking this time doesn’t mean you can’t find a connection in the future. It doesn’t matter whether you’ve been turned down by a romantic interest, a potential job, a university, your peers, or your coworkers—your worth as a person is not dictated by the opinions of other people. Not everyone is going to feel a connection to you, and that’s okay. It’s impossible to win everyone’s approval. So stop focusing on all the people who have rejected you, and start holding onto all the people who have embraced you with love and open arms. These are the people and relationships that matter. Let go of the rest.
Daniell Koepke (via internal-acceptance-movement)
Something to remember as I continue on with my 20s.
(via rho86)
must keep this perspective in mind..
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When I go for a check-up & the doctor asks if I exercise regularly
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