High Anxiety and Blessings

The weekend started out normal enough:  we attended my nephew's graduation party on Saturday night (or was it Friday?  I seriously have "Dory Syndrome", which means that my short-term memory SUCKS) and that was a lot of fun.  It's always a blast to have my family gathered together in celebration of something someone has done, such as graduation or even just for the hell of it.  That's how we roll.  Anyway, I find that if I am in a large group of people who are related to me, I have absolutely no problem with anxiety and mild agoraphobia. However, when I am in a situation with a ton of people I do NOT know and it's in a very close room, that's when the panic bubbles up.  Take last night at seminary graduation, for instance.  I had survived the actual graduation ceremony at the high school very well, possibly because I was busy either taking pictures or filming the musical performances, so my mind was pretty occupied.  I was also surrounded by my former in-laws, who, even after five years, I still love with all my heart because they are truly wonderful people.  Anyway, I digress.  So, in the short time between the time we had arrived home from the high school graduation and when we left for seminary graduation, I began to have some doubts as to whether or not I should even attend seminary graduation because I was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed and edgy (never a good sign for me). In the end, I did end up going, which, as time progressed, I realized that this was a very big mistake on my part.
It all started innocuously enough:  the prelude music was beautiful and peaceful, and it brought the Spirit into my heart.  Even the procession of the graduates was great: I have known most of these kids since they were about 12 years old, and some of them, even longer than that.  Anyway, the first talk was great, but the girl shared a couple of experiences with heeding the warnings of the Holy Ghost, and then finding out why she was prompted to veer from her normal routine. It wasn't that I was upset about anything she said, but the experiences were eerily similar to the manner in which my youngest sister was killed a few weeks ago:  she was traveling at a high rate of speed when she hit a deer and lost control of her SUV. The car rolled, and her seat belt failed, and she was thrown from the driver's side window, landing approximately 100 + feet from the vehicle.  She suffered extreme head and chest trauma, and from what I understand, she broke her neck, as well.  Anyway, it just evoked some pretty intense emotions in me, and I began to cry.  After this gal's talk, there was a string trio, and these musicians, who are teens, are very talented.  They played a medley of hymns, and there were two that put me over the edge, one of which caused a flashback to erecting my sister's roadside memorial.  That song was "I Am a Child of God", one of my sister's favorite hymns, and it was the first hymn we sang before we departed.  Now, I cannot listen to that hymn without crying my heart out.  The second hymn that affected me was "O My Father", which, regardless of the situation, ALWAYS brings me to tears because I feel Heavenly Father so strongly when I hear it.  That was it;  I had to get out of the chapel and run outside so I could cry uncontrollably and not disrupt the program.  After about fifteen minutes or so, I returned to the foyer and remained there until the program was pretty much over (they were handing out the diplomas by this time), at which time, I returned to the chapel. I did great during the closing hymn, which was one of my favorites, so it buoyed my spirits somewhat.
After the program concluded, there was a reception of sorts in the gym behind the chapel.  I did fairly well until one of my dearest friends came up and hugged me, asking me how I was doing.  I have no idea why this is, but anytime anyone has hugged me since I lost my sister, I totally start bawling.  I don't know if the affection triggers some kind of emotional response, but I will be glad when that diminishes because right now, it's kind of embarrassing.  Anyway, I totally lost it, and though I merely started out weeping, things quickly spiraled out of control and before I knew it, I was having a full-blown anxiety attack.....AT CHURCH!!!!  I began to pretty much freak out and was sobbing uncontrollably, hyperventilating, and nearly screaming, "I can't breathe!  Get me out of here! I can't breathe!"  I bolted outside, yet again, but this time, my mom followed, and eventually, one of the stake presidency, who also happens to be a doctor (and is fully aware of my issues, as it were).  I don't think Mom really knew how to deal with this, as she was slightly affected by the same things as I was, but was holding it together much better than I was, so it was up to Dr. Drake to handle the situation.  As there were no paper bags readily available, I had to breathe into a tithing envelope, which I found kind of funny afterwards (I don't know why).  After a while, I had completely chilled out and was able to be reasonable and calm.  We found my older sister, who drove my car home (her husband followed us in their car) and made sure Mom and I got into the house okay.  Once there, it was total pajama time (I had been wearing a dress ALL FREAKING DAY and I was SO ready to be rid of it, though I am a VERY feminine gal).
After a while, my boys arrived home, and since they are the only priesthood holders in the home, I asked them to contact our home teachers to come and administer a blessing on me so I could experience some peace and be able to relax enough so I could possibly get some sleep.  As they gave me the blessing, I SERIOUSLY felt my little sister holding my hand on one side, and Heavenly Father standing on the other side of me.  I realize to those who do not share my religious beliefs and /or do not understand the LDS religion, this probably sounds totally loopy, but this was REAL.  I have no doubt in my mind that this truly happened.  After the blessing was completed, I had this distinct feeling of peace and love coursing through my body.  It was such an amazing feeling, and words cannot describe it.
I guess that what I am attempting to convey is that though I totally fell apart in front of a very large group of my peers, I initially felt very ashamed.  After much thought and prayer, I realized that what occurred was nothing to be ashamed of.  Panic and anxiety attacks just happen sometimes, and there isn't much anyone can do about them, other than comfort the one dealing with it and realize that it's part of a physical/mental disorder and cannot be helped. That knowledge helped me to realize that it was unlikely that those who witnessed this weren't going to judge me (all of us have our own issues that we deal with, and some are more obvious than others), and if they did, that was their malfunction, not mine.  Despite this experience, I am not going to let this control my life, nor will I allow it to prevent me from attending church.  Church is where I find peace and solace, and nothing is going to keep me from seeking and experiencing the feelings I have when I am in the house of the Lord.
To those who were around me when I fell apart, please don't think that you have done ANYTHING wrong.  I was a mess to begin with, and sympathy just makes me cry right now.  That will diminish, so please bear with me and realize that you are all still my dear friends and I love you.
Until next time.............

Patience

It is a well-known fact among those who know me well that I do not possess a large amount of patience. I n fact, it has been said that when God was giving out the gift of patience, He skipped me entirely.  However, contrary to popular belief, I DO have some patience, but not much.  For example, I am attempting to upload a video to You tube from the choir concert I attended on Monday, and though I have been letting it do its thing for the past hour and a half, it STILL has about half an hour left (not counting processing) before it's completed.  This annoys me to no end.  It's not a very long video, so why in the world would it take nearly two freaking hours to upload?  It is a baffling concept.

I often wish I had more patience.  It would certainly benefit me, as my lack of patience, and the verbalizing thereof, tends to get me into trouble. I tend to get incredibly impatient with people who I deem as lacking in intelligence (and I am usually not far off the mark with that theory).  I never say anything out loud, but my thoughts are so not kind.  However, though I hold my tongue, it is very tempting to jump up and down and scream, "You freaking idiot!!!!  What the hell is wrong with you???"  I refrain, however, and try to change my mindset to remind myself that such thoughts and impulses are very unkind and would benefit no one, even if it would blow off some steam.

Right now, my patience is being sorely tested not only by the eternal uploading to You Tube, but the sluggish nature of the internet connection here at the library today.  At first, I thought that I had too many windows open on my computer and that was slowing things down, but that had never really caused any issues before.  Regardless, I closed all windows except YouTube and Blogspot (so I could actually write a blog today).  This, however, made absolutely no difference. It's a library-wide issue.  All the big computers are hardly working, and both of us patrons who are using laptops are battling the irritating slowness of the internet/Wi-Fi connection.  Bah.  I do not like slow.  Slow, in this instance, is bad.  It's irritating.  It is making me want to bite the hell out of someone or something. Yes, I totally realize that I need to chill the heck out, but gosh darn it, I am not a patient individual, which we have already established.

You know what I need?  Chocolate, and a lot of it.  Chocolate makes everything MUCH better, even incurable impatience.  It possesses endorphins (by the way, I feel that ice cream also has endorphins), which will make me oh-so-happy.  Maybe I'm PMS-ing (minus the M, which has not occurred in years, thank God).  Maybe that's why my usually controllable impatience has escalated to a nearly chocolate necessity level.  It's probably be a good idea to procure something chocolate prior to going home, or things could get ugly.  Well, not really, because the twins totally ignore me when I am in one of "those" moods.  Truth be told, it really doesn't even have to be chocolate to quell my crankiness.  It could be anything sweet. Sweet is good.  Sweet is VERY good. Maybe yellow cake with chocolate frosting. Hmmmm.  That sounds kind of appealing.

Oh jeeze, I need to stop talking about food. I am hungry as it is, and I am NOT leaving here until that stupid video uploads and I can share it on Facebook.  I refuse to give up, even if I am really hungry and cranky.  I WILL PREVAIL!!!!!!!

That being said, I will end this for now, before I work myself into a lather or something.  Peace out. :)

Aviophobia

I hate flying.  Pure and simple. Okay, let me rephrase that.  Flying, itself, really does not bother me all that much, but takeoff and landing nearly throw me into a panic attack or make me pass out from fear. I am not sure why this is, because I always loved to fly when I was younger.  It's just been since I've been an adult that I have developed this fear.
As I have flown recently, I discovered something:  my fear of flying has not been helped by my fascination with the show "Air Crash Investigations".  Seriously, I have no idea why I love this show, because it pretty much shows anything and everything that can go wrong with a plane.  And wouldn't you know, I was thinking of these shows as I boarded my flight in Boise two weeks ago.  This nearly rendered me catatonic, but then I switched gears and chose to think of the movie "Airplane!" instead.  That was much more comforting, and infinitely more amusing.  Throughout the flight, all I could think about was Barbara Billingsley as the Jive Lady.  What was even more hilarious (and quite ironic) was when we flew from Denver to Des Moines.  There was an individual who had a guitar as one of their carry on pieces.  I automatically thought of the scene where the flight attendant was singing "River of Jordan" to the gravely ill little girl and kept pulling her IV out with the neck of the guitar. Ohhhhh, good times!
Though I mostly concentrated on the more amusing aspects of air travel, I couldn't help but occasionally think of some of the "Air Crash Investigations" episodes I had recently watched.  Word of advice:  NEVER watch something like that if you are already afraid of flying and are planning to travel by plane anytime in the near future.  It just exacerbates your fear.  Duh.
It's funny, but once I get up in the air, I do pretty well, except when we make a turn.  I am always afraid that the plane is going to to a spin move and flip over and I'll plummet to the ground.  Takeoff darn near kills me. My heart feels like it's coming out my nose, my lungs feel like they're going to fall out of my butt, and I get really lightheaded (possibly because I am hyperventilating).  It is a proven fact that I white-knuckle it until we reach cruising altitude.  At that point in time, I enjoy my complimentary beverage and people-watch, which, on a plane, is most amusing.  I swear I get all the really funky people on any flight I happen to be on.
Landing is not a lot better, but I handle it.  My heart and lungs stay put in my chest cavity, and I don't hyperventilate.  I do, however, white-knuckle it the entire time until the plane either slows down or comes to a complete stop.  Then, and only then, can I relax.  By the time I deplane, I am ready to kiss the terra firma.
The other aspect of flying that really bothers me is turbulence.  Since I live in a mountainous area, flying out of the airport is ALWAYS turbulent (and therefore not so fun) because it is a fact that when you fly over the mountains, the air currents cause turbulence.  And it never fails; every time we experience severe turbulence, I happen to have a full bladder, and darn it all to heck, the seatbelt sign is on, and I CAN'T FREAKING USE THE BATHROOM!  During this time, I am practically twisting myself into a pretzel shape in order to not be incontinent of bladder.  Oh my, that is a most uncomfortable feeling.  When this happens, as soon as I deplane, I am off like a shot and booking it to the nearest bathroom.  It is that time that I can fully relax, bladder and all.  The other thing I cannot tolerate in regards to turbulence is that it is not my idea of fun to be jiggled all over the place at 32,000 feet above the ground.  Aw, HECK no! By the time I am off the plane, I feel like a James Bond cocktail:  shaken, but not stirred.
Though flying is NOT my preferred method of travel, I do manage to endure it, usually with the help of a Xanax or two.  I also try to keep myself occupied so I don't focus on the fact that I really don't much care for flying.  Thankfully, I have no intention of flying again anytime soon, so I shall enjoy the ground for now.
Until next time.......

Recovery With Humor

My family is well-known for our sense of humor, even in the most horrible of situations.  For example, while we were all in Iowa for my sister's funeral, we all spent time together, and as per usual, humor was very much present.
One of the other more interesting traits in our family is the inability to hear things as they are actually said, as well as butchering the English language and totally misquoting sayings.  While we were gathered together during a "planning meeting" (in our family, that means that we are all together in one location, but as we are all more than a little ADD, we never stay on topic and therefore take forever to plan anything) for a family memorial for my sister, my oldest sister was reading something on her I-Pad and had her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose.  Now, I cannot remember exactly who said this, but it was pointed out that Tina (my oldest sister) had her glasses in a geriatric position.  My nephew, Adam, totally misheard what was said and asked Tina why she had a geriatric pillow and what kind of position it was in.  As is usual in my family, this phrase spiraled out of control to the point where Adam asked Tina if her geriatric pillow was in a sexual or otherwise position.  Of course, uncontrollable laughter ensued, and some of us (okay, me) were laughing so hard that we a) could not breathe, and b) may or may not have needed a Poise pad. This became a running joke during the entire trip.
A little later that evening, the topic of the hotel that my two older sisters were staying at in Ottumwa was rumored to be haunted.  This fact was verified via some website (it was on my sister, Alisa's phone, so I have no idea what the site was).  Prior to gaining this knowledge, my nephew, Adam, had wrapped a shirt (or a towel; I don't really remember which) around his head and my sister, Tina took a picture of it.  She forgot that she had taken the picture and had not posted to Facebook when it was verified that the Hotel Ottumwa was indeed haunted.  At this time, Tina posted, "Great.  I just found out that my hotel is haunted."  Little did she know at the time that this was inadvertently posted as a caption to the picture she had taken of Adam.  Since he had something wrapped around his head, it made the post even more hilarious.  More uncontrollable laughter erupted, and again, there was the distinct possibility of a Poise moment occurring.
During the discussion on the haunted motel, my sister, Alisa, wanted to know some more information in regards to the motel (this actually may have taken place prior to verifying the info).  She said (and with modified jazz hands, mind you), "Curiosity struck the cat....."  That did it for the rest of the family.  We were practically rolling on the floor at that little gem.  Oh, to go back to an earlier part of the trip, my sister, Teresa, bragged to my sister, Alisa, that we were going to beat her to Des Moines since our flight left earlier than Alisa's.  When we got stranded in Denver because the douche-nozzles that flew our connecting flight were buttheads and didn't hold the plane for us (by the way, I would STILL like to bite them), Teresa had to admit she was wrong about us arriving first.  She called Alisa and said, "I am going to have to eat pie and admit I was wrong."  Tina and I completely lost it because she meant to say that she was going to have to eat crow and admit she was wrong.  Ahhhhh, I love how our family completely destroys sayings.  They always come out so funny!
Since our return flight to Boise via Denver left Wednesday morning at 6:30 am (a very ungodly hour for me, mind you....much coffee was ingested during the flight), we stayed overnight in Des Moines so we could arrive at the airport in good time.  When we got to Des Moines, we were all ravenous and decided to stop at Perkins for dinner.  By this time, all of us were so exhausted, physically and mentally, we were more than a little punchy.  We entertained ourselves by taking selfies with Tina's and Teresa's phones.  Teresa got a selfie with half of my head in it, since I felt it was my duty to photobomb her.  This was a really cool pic, because Teresa was making boobly eyes and I don't remember what I was doing, other than trying to block Teresa's face with my fat head.  Tina, however, took the cake with her selfie.  I don't know if it was the angle of the phone or what, but her head looked a little like a big gumdrop; narrow at the top and broad at the bottom.  And her facial expression.....oh my, it was hilarious.  I seriously cannot even describe it.  All I know is that when I saw the picture, I almost shot Diet Coke out of my nose. Again, we dissolved into gales of laughter, and the other patrons looked at us as if we were insane.  Maybe we are, just a little bit, but hey, we know how to amuse ourselves!
I am so grateful that my family possesses an insatiable sense of humor. It has gotten us through some pretty awful times. Sometimes, we just need a little laughter to make life more bearable.

Iowa Trip: A Comedy of Errors

As my memorial blog mentioned, my youngest sister, Heidi, passed away suddenly on April 24.  Since she lived in Iowa, and three of my sisters live in Idaho and one lives in Oregon, we had to head out to Iowa for the funeral and memorial (both of which we missed due to scheduling conflicts).  This trip was definitely a spur of the moment journey, and we were all under the impression that even though it was hastily planned, it would be relatively seamless.  We were so very wrong about that.
Things started out normal enough:  my two older sisters procured the airline tickets in record time, and we were all seated by one another on our first flight (Boise to Denver).  However, upon looking at the departure time from Denver to Des Moines (our final destination), we discovered that we only had about 15-20 minutes to make our connection.  We were concerned about this, but not terribly so, since we figured we could pull a "Home Alone" and sprint to the gate we were departing from.  As we were waiting for our flight in Boise, we discovered that the flight was delayed initially for half an hour due to weather.  Over time, the delay increased to close to an hour.  That's when the panic set in.  Our turnaround time to make our flight to Des Moines was severely diminished now, and we were not sure that we could make it.  My oldest sister, who is by and far the most assertive out of all of us and therefore can make miracles happen, spoke to the airline representatives and explained our plight.  Finally, our plane arrived, and once again, my sister appealed to the kindness of the flight crew in order to expedite the flight process as much as possible in order for us to make our connection.  Thankfully, the weather was most cooperative and our flight arrived ahead of schedule.  Much to our dismay, we sat on the tarmac for a who freaking FIFTEEN MINUTES while we waited for another plane to get the heck away from our gate.  During this time, we found out that our connection was departing from the gate right next to the one we arrived at.  Hallelujah!  This joy was short-lived, however, as we were trying in vain to deplane in a rapid fashion (I don't know what the holdup was; we stood in the aisle forever waiting to deplane).  As soon as we hit the jetway, I was off like a marathon runner.  I don't think I have ever run that fast in my life.  Anyway, I was barreling down the jetway like a woman possessed, knocking anyone over who was unfortunate enough to be in my way.  My efforts were thwarted when I arrived at the adjacent gate and discovered that our connecting flight had already pulled away from the gate and was heading down the taxiway.  I was chagrined, pissed off, and very out of breath (note to self: fat chicks should never run).  Soon after my failed attempt to hold our connecting flight by pulling the pity card, my sisters joined me and I broke the news to them.  There were many emotions shown due to this news:  fury, sadness, and disgust.  I personally felt like strangling someone, but refrained.  Two of us plopped down into the incredibly hard chairs that the Denver airport had to torture waiting passengers.  My two older sisters proceeded to the customer service line in order to see what could be done in order for us to be comfortable for the duration (approximately 16 hours; the flight we missed was the last flight out of Denver to Des Moines--SUCKY!!!!!).  At first the airline was content to let us wait things out in the airport.  When the airline reps told my oldest sister this, my sister darn near levitated over the counter. It was truly a sight to behold; I was very impressed at how she "handled" and persuaded the airline to give us a hotel voucher and three meal vouchers apiece for our troubles. Soon we were on our way to our hotel, which was decorated in modern art.  The elevators were my personal favorite:  they had four transparent squares on the floor with blue liquid that would squish around when stepped on.  Our rooms were pretty nifty,as well.  For those of you who are Harry Potter geeks like me, I must tell you that the bathroom sinks looked like Pensieves.
The next morning, we were back at the airport, some of us bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, others of us clutching cups of coffee and glaring at anyone who dared try to initiate a conversation with us.  Finally, it was time to board our plane to Des Moines.  We were seated all over the plane; I and my younger sister were in the very back next to the lavatory.  Let me tell you, this was NOT pleasant.  It was stifling, it was stinky, and I was seated next to a lady with a huge burrito in her carry on bag. The scent of that mingled with the odor of the airplane lavatory was horrible. Thankfully, I occupied myself with my crossword puzzle book and did my best to ignore the stench emanating throughout the back of the plane.
We finally arrived in Des Moines.  I seriously don't think any of us were so glad to be on Iowa soil as we were that day.  We proceeded to the rental car counters, where my older sister had reserved a car to take us from Des Moines to Fremont and Ottumwa, where we were all staying.  Much to our chagrin, we discovered that since we missed our flight to Des Moines and therefore were not able to pick up the rental car as scheduled, they rental car reps cancelled our reservation and joy of all joys (enter major sarcasm here), we had no car.  I think we all wanted to cry by this time, since we had pretty much gone through hell already on this short jaunt from Boise to Des Moines. After much scrambling, my oldest sister was able to secure a car after about an hour wait.  We were thrilled!  This feeling was short-lived, however, as the Des Moines area had changed significantly since I had been there three years ago, and I no longer knew how to get to the highway from the airport.  My oldest sister had a solution:  let's rely on the GPS on her I-Phone!  Initially, this was a swell idea, for we thought that Fifi (the GPS) would guide us to our destination.  We soon discovered that Fifi must have been on crack because she led us in a square which led us right back to Des Moines.  What the heck????  It turned out that we were about 70 miles from the highway.  We soon admitted defeat and called my sister in Fremont to guide us back to the highway, and therefore, to her home.  A trip that normally would take about an hour extended to about three hours.  By this time, I think we all were tired of traveling and more than a little disgruntled.
We all finally made it to our lodging places.......except for my two oldest sisters.  They drove in to Ottumwa and tried to get a room at the AmericInn. They had ONE room, which I think had to be a honeymoon suite, because it only had one king-size bed and a jacuzzi, and only for $90!  Pffft.  The girls decided to nix that idea, and ended up at the Hotel Ottumwa, which, by the way, they discovered was haunted.  This made their stay infinitely more interesting.  I will not go into detail about their experiences at this time, but suffice it to say, they had a very unusual stay.
The remainder of the week went relatively smooth, until the day before we headed home.  My two older sisters, my mom, and I had gone to a small town (Batavia) to look for relatives in the cemetery there.  After we successfully located the graves we were searching for, we proceeded to head to Eldon to the site of my youngest sister's accident in order to place a roadside memorial.  All of us were supposed to meet at the site at 4:30 pm, which, in my family, means anywhere between 5 pm and 7 pm. We thought that if we took a certain road in Batavia, it would lead us into Eldon and as a result, to the accident site.  This was not to be.  It was pouring down rain, and since my family is directionally challenged, we got lost on a dirt road (by this time, it was a mud road) in the middle of nowhere.  Mom pointed out a field access road that we could turn around on and head back to the highway.  Little did we realize, there were TWO field access roads; one was gravel, and one was grass and mud.  As we are an adventurous kind of people, we took the grass and mud road.  We attempted to turn around, and the mud tried to eat our car.  We were stuck.  Not just stuck, but buried up to the front hubs in thick, clay-like Iowa mud.  We tried in vain to gain purchase in the slick, wet grass, but to no avail.  We tried placing cardboard under the front wheels to give them a little traction, but when my oldest sister hit the gas, the cardboard went flying into the ditch (it got some pretty good distance, too).  Next, we tried placing corn husks under the tires (we were facing a corn field....big surprise).  This didn't work, either.  However, the husks stayed put, though they were totally useless.  We attempted to call Triple A, but we were in for a nearly two hour wait.  Much as we love each other, none of us savored the idea of being stuck in a steamy car for two hours waiting for a tow truck to try to find us.  Finally, we say some traffic on the road behind us.  First, a big silver pickup flew by us, not even noticing a black Toyota sitting in a cornfield (we had slid fully into to cornfield by this time).  This must be a common site in Iowa or something.  A few minutes later, a black pickup pulled up and a man who greatly resembled Larry the Cable Guy alit from the cab and offered his assistance.  Oh, how happy we were to see someone that cared enough to rescue three soggy women and one dry old lady!  This man proceeded to lay in the yucky mud, hook up his tow chain (praise the Lord that he had one in the bed of his truck!) to our car and then to his truck.  Within minutes, we were free!  Oh, the joy and rapture that filled our hearts!  We were on our way to Eldon to meet up with the rest of the family and caravan to the accident site to erect the roadside memorial.
On a more serious note, we all arrived at the site with the decorations in hand.  My nephew built a beautiful cross for the site, and my sisters and I made a lovely silk flower arrangement and bought a solar-powered angel that would light up at night.  It was still pouring rain during this time, but none of us minded at all.  We placed the cross in the ground, and my baby sister's name, birth date and death date were written on the horizontal part of the cross.  On the vertical part, we wrote, "Gone But Never Forgotten".  After all the items were placed at the site, we all started to leave, but I called everyone back.  There was one more thing we needed to do. Though Heidi (my sister) was not a particularly religious person, she still had a favorite hymn from church.  As my final tribute to her, I began to sing "I Am a Child of God", shivering, crying, and trembling.  The others joined in, and we sang to my beloved sister, one last time.  After we finished that hymn, my older sister, Teresa, began to sing, "God Be With You 'Til We Meet Again".  I joined in on the alto part, and soon we all sang the rest of that hymn.  Finally, Heidi's daddy, Wally, concluded our memorial with a beautiful prayer.  Not a dry eye was to be found on that lonely country roadside in Jefferson County, Iowa. We all headed back to our vehicles, wet, muddy, and broeknhearted at the loss of our sweet Heidi Alaura.
Us four older girls finally made it back to Boise on Wednesday, April 30.  We had all pretty much held our emotions in check for the duration of the trip, but on our way back to Weiser, I couldn't hold it in anymore.  I let the tears flow unchecked as we headed home.
Though our trip back to Iowa was fraught with mishaps and sadness, we, as a family, were able to summon some humor from our experiences.  I refrained from including ALL the details of our adventures in the interest of time and space.  Suffice it to say, we did find the rainbow in the storm clouds that followed us as we coped with our loss.
Heidi, we miss you so much and know that you are in a far better place than those of us who were left behind.  We are grateful that your spirit remains in our hearts forever, and that you inspire us to find humor in the most dire of situations.  God be with you til we meet again, sweet girl.

In Memoriam: Heidi Alaura McCallum Carman

My beloved baby sister, Heidi Alaura McCallum Carman, age 28, passed away on Thursday, April 24th, 2014, from injuries sustained in an automobile accident near Eldon, Iowa.
Heidi was born in Boise, Idaho, on May 31, 1985, to Jean (Box) McCallum and Wally McCallum.  As she was the youngest of ten children, it goes without saying that our baby sister was quite spoiled.  It was a wonder that she learned to walk at all, as it was us older kids' duty (and pleasure) to tote her around to wherever she wanted to be.
Heidi was the consummate Mommy's girl.. She and our mom shared a very strong and special bond that was unbreakable both in life and in death. She was also very close to all of her sisters, and there was nothing we wouldn't do for our sweet Heidi.
Heidi spent most of her childhood in Weiser, Idaho, until September of 1998, when she moved to Agency, Iowa.  She attended Cardinal Junior/Senior High School, graduating in 2003.  She married her sweetheart, Michael Carman, in 2007, and to this union was born three beautiful sons:  James Michael (aka Jamesy), Joel Mason (aka Joel Baby), and Jackson Matthew (aka Rowdy Roo). She and her family made their home in Eldon, Iowa, until the time of her death.
Heidi possessed many wonderful talents, such as baking and decorating the most amazing cakes for her nieces' and nephews' birthdays.  She even made a wonderful "hillbilly" wedding cake for our sister, Heather, which was made of Twinkies and Hostess Cupcakes.  Some of Heidi's other talents were creating beautiful crafts that were displayed in her home, and scrapbooking.  After her passing, my sisters and I went through her belongings, and we found a couple of her scrapbooks.  They were truly amazing!
  Heidi's heart was as big as the outdoors, and everyone who knew her was a better person because of her loving influence.
My sister was, in my opinion, the most beautiful young woman, both physically and spiritually.  There was not a mean bone in that girl's body.  Though she was the youngest child in our family, she never had a problem with sharing everything she had with anyone and everyone she met.  She often graciously opened her home to anyone needing a place to rest their head, even if for a short time.
Though Heidi did have some struggles later in life, she was putting her life back together at the time of her death.  Heidi is now perfect, free from adversity or pain, and having that knowledge eases the pain of losing her somewhat.
To tell you how well-loved Heidi was (and still is), she has had two memorials celebrating her life, and another is being planned in her hometown of Weiser, Idaho, sometime in May. The burial of her ashes took place on Thursday, May 1, 2014, at the Eldon Cemetery in Eldon, Iowa.  A roadside memorial at the site of the accident was also erected on Tuesday, April 29, by her sisters and parents.
Though Heidi has left this world for a more beautiful dwelling, her spirit lives on in all of our hearts.  Heidi made the unselfish decision prior to her death to become an organ donor.  Because of this decision, four lives were saved and Heidi lives on through the recipients of her organs.
Heidi is survived by her parents, Jean Box, Wally McCallum, Jr., and Irene McCallum, all of Weiser. She is also survived by her husband, Michael Carman, of Eldon, Iowa, and her children, James, Joel, and Jackson, all of Eldon, Iowa.  Heidi is also survived by her siblings, Greg McCallum of Utah, Lorna McNay of Roy, Utah, Tina (Doug) Freeman of Boise, Idaho, Teresa (VerNon) Chandler of Weiser, Idaho, Crystal Channell-Herrick of Weiser, Idaho, Courtney Shaw of Baker City, Oregon, Amber McCallum Proctor of Fremont, Iowa, Alisa (Matt) Lutje of Weiser, Idaho, and Heather (Joe) Maize of Ottumwa, Iowa.  Heidi is also survived by 8 nieces, 25 nephews, a great-nephew, and a great-niece.
Heidi was preceded in death by a sister, Tracey Jean, a brother, Timothy Christopher, her maternal grandparents, Marie and Elmer Box, and Wallace McCallum, Sr. and Marian Nelson, her uncle, Robert Earl Box, and her brother-in-law, Robert Ray Valencia, Jr.
Though Heidi has passed on to a more beautiful world, her spirit remains in our hearts always.  She has made us all better individuals by her loving example.
The family wishes to thank Jefferson County EMS, Life Flight, and the staff on the neurosurgical ICU at University Hospital in Iowa City, Iowa, for the wonderful, loving care they gave to our beloved sister in her final hours.  We also thank them for the kindness shown to the family during this devastating time.
"We love you forever, we like you for always, forever and ever our baby you'll be."
Godspeed, sweet girl.  May you always walk with Jesus.

Easter With My Family

My family is well-known for being able to throw a family party together in under 24 hours without breaking a sweat.  Such was true this past Saturday.  We had an impromptu family get-together at my sister, Teresa's, house (she has the biggest yard of all of us) to celebrate Easter and to bid farewell until September to my nephew, Nathan, and his wife, Toria, who are summering in Canada, and to my nephew-in-law, Scott, who is fulfilling a military assignment in Alaska.  There were SO many kids there, both older and younger.  We had an Easter egg hunt for the little kids, and the older kids hid the eggs.  They got quite creative with the hiding places.  There were eggs in my car, on my sister's car, in the trees, on the trees, etc.  It took some time for the kids to locate them all, but they did it.  I was able to get a family picture to send my daughter and nephew in Mexico. True to family tradition, at least two or more of the family members were either making odd faces or trying to do something to another family member, i.e. pouring water on my sister, Alisa. That would be one of my nephews.
I love having family get-togethers.  It is inevitable that there will be a lot of laughter and practical joking, in addition to intense Mario Kart playing by the teenagers.  We are a most irreverent bunch; laughter and humor is our family trademark.  It's funny, but when we all congregate in a public place, people often give us a wide berth.  So they don't share our brand of humor.  Nobody said they had to listen to our conversations about farts and other bodily functions.  We lack the ability to get too embarrassed about things, so our conversations get pretty interesting.......all the time.  We also get distracted easily, so people get lost in our ever-evolving conversations.  I think that all of us are more than a little ADD, which would explain the easy distractions.  But that's what makes us so interesting!
Later, peeps!

Stress........NOT For Wusses

I have been experiencing a higher-than-normal amount of stress lately.  I am unsure of the cause, but it is wreaking havoc in my life and in my body.  I am having difficulty sleeping, I have stress-induced acne, I have a significant loss of appetite (if only I would lose a significant amount of weight with THAT), and I have difficulty concentrating.  It could be from the trauma therapy, or it just could be life in general and all the things my kids have going on during these last few weeks of school. I feel like I am meeting myself coming and going sometimes.
I am thinking that to beat the stress, maybe I should start taking walks in the afternoons or evenings.  The weather has been pretty nice lately, and I think it would do me a lot of good.  Not only would I sleep better from the exercise and fresh air, but I would start dropping all this excess weight.  It's that or bariatric surgery (not always the solution, but I am seriously considering it.  Don't know if I would be a good candidate or if my insurance would cover it).
I HATE not sleeping well!  The following day, I am so foggy and tired that I want to nap in the afternoons. This, however, is counterproductive to my sleep issues. Then I am up all night, not able to sleep because I slept all afternoon.  So, again, I think that taking a walk would help things tremendously.
I know that this will be a short post, but you can only talk about stress so much before you get stressed out from talking about stress.  So, until tomorrow, peeps.........

Weiser Youth Symphony

I am going to shamelessly plug the Weiser Youth Symphony in this post.  My twins, Kyson and Kade, are members of the symphony (Kyson on trumpet and Kade on bass trombone).  The symphony is mainly comprised of the talented youth of Weiser and the surrounding areas, but there are many adults in this group, as well.  I have attended both of the concerts that they have had this year, plus a rehearsal last night, and I have to say that I am completely in awe at the sheer talent and professionalism of this group.  When I arrived, they were working on a piece that they had just received last night and were doing their first run through of the piece.  For a initial run through, they did amazingly well, and they worked quite hard at fine tuning dynamics, etc.  All the other pieces were given out last week, so it was a second rehearsal for those.
I am proud to have kids participating in this wonderful group.  These people work hard at rehearsals, and their hard work really pays off.  I think that this is only the second year of the symphony being in existence, and it keeps on growing.  More and more people are attending the concerts and getting the word out there that this group of extremely talented musicians exists and is always looking for new members.  I saw several new faces last night.  If you know of anyone in the Weiser area that has 3+ years experience on an instrument (cello, violin, viola, percussion, brass, woodwinds), have them look in to joining the symphony.  As I have said before, this is a really talented group of people, and Weiser is very lucky to have such a group representing it as a town.
Speaking of talent in Weiser, I have noticed in my nearly 30 years of living here (off and on) that our town possesses a large number of musically talented individuals.  Our choirs consistently receive Superior ratings at festival, and we always have a significant representation at the state solo level (this year, my son, Kade, is one of the few who is competing in the small school level at state).  When I attended high school, we always had at least three people attending Idaho All-State Choir and Band, as well as All-Northwest Choirs, Band, and Orchestra (I attended Idaho All-State as a sophomore and a senior, and All-Northwest as a junior as a choir member, and I competed in the state solo competition  as a senior).  Our bands also consistently receive Excellent and Superior ratings at festival, and we always make a great showing at marching band competitions.  It is awesome to live in a town where the fine arts are hailed as being important, and are well-publicized.
Well, enough of my regaling my community. I will wrap this posting up for now.  If you live in the Weiser area, please be sure to take the time to attend one of the symphony's concerts.  The next concert is on June 3 at the Snake River Heritage Center in Weiser.  I would encourage all who are interested in hearing a highly talented group perform to attend this concert.  This is their "pops" concert, and many of the pieces being played are well-known to many.
Until tomorrow...........

Lunar Eclipses and Dancing Twins

Did anyone catch the lunar eclipse last night/this morning?  I did, but totally on accident.  I had forgotten about it until it was almost complete (I was busy watching "Poseidon").  When I remembered that it was in the process of happening, I raced outside with my camera to get shots of it.  Let me tell you, this was NOT an easy task; the full zoom on my camera is pretty unstable and I didn't feel like running back into the house to grab my tripod.  Nonetheless, I DID get three decent shots of it.  I've never stayed up to watch a lunar eclipse before, so this was kind of a cool thing to see. I watched it until it was fully eclipsed (I totally missed the "blood moon" part, but oh well), which was very neat.
Now for the dancing twins.  Okay, I have to say that every one of my kids inherited my odd sense of humor (thank goodness for that!), and my twin sons were definitely full of it last night.  This is pretty much a nightly occurrence in my house.  Anyway, they had put on a CD that had "Stars and Stripes Forever" on it, and they were dancing in their underwear to it.  Had they been fully clothed, I would have filmed it because it was that hilarious.  There was a lot of booty shaking, hip thrusting, and a little marching involved (mind you, the marching was high-stepping). After this, they played "Bugler's Holiday" and danced to that, as well.  THAT was extremely hilarious.  There was almost a piddle puddle beneath me from laughing so hard.
Another nightly occurrence is "breaking Grandma".  My mom laughs so hard that she starts coughing A LOT and she turns a lovely shade of maroon.  This, my friends, is breaking Grandma.  How we coined this term, I know not, but I believe it was my kids who came up with it.  Anyway, this happens on a regular basis.  Me, I don't cough; I darn near pee myself (ohhhhh, sphincter muscles, why must you fail me?), which is nearly as bad.
Due to the staying up late to watch the eclipse this morning, I am really tired.  If this blog seems random and difficult to follow, that is why.  My brain is not working; I have not had nearly enough sleep or caffeine to function properly. I feel foggy and out of it.  That being said, I am going to close for now. I have no profound thoughts or quotes to share with you today, which is another effect from being overly tired.  I am unable to think properly.
Until tomorrow.............

Family

I a m a person that is VERY protective of my family......all of them.  I am particularly protective of my kids and my younger sisters, though I don't think that they realize this.  This has always been the case.  Whenever anyone hurts them or treats them wrong, I automatically go into protective mode and want to maim the perpetrator.  I obviously refrain from doing so, for these people are not worth getting arrested for. So, I have to step back and allow them to sort things out on their own.  My younger sisters are all adults, but this does not, in any way, minimize my protective instincts.  Sometimes, I still think of them as little ones, possibly because they are all considerably younger than I am.  As far as my kids go, I have always been protective of them. You mess with my babies (hahaha......all but two of my children are adults, and the youngest two are on the brink of adulthood) and you will rue the day.  To quote Philip Seymour Hoffman in "Twister", imminent rue-age.  Again, as with my sisters, I have to step back and let them sort things out on their own.  I don't want to be considered a "helicopter mom" (aka a hoverer), but truthfully, I kind of am.  It's tough to see people you love with all your heart suffering.
Speaking of my kids, my 22 year old son is experiencing some acute loneliness because his wife is on tour with the orchestra she is a part of.  I love that he loves her so much!  I would kill to have some sweet guy (like my son) love me that much. Anyway, they are just the cutest, sweetest married couple I know because their love for each other transcends just physical love.  It's so strong and spiritual!  It makes me so happy to see them together.  They are truly perfect for each other.  My son, being my offspring, has my sense of humor and talent for randomness, and his wife complements that personality perfectly.  She, too, has a great sense of humor, so I imagine that their marriage is fun as well as loving.
When I get on Facebook and see that one of my sisters is having a poopyhead day, I just want to have a magic wand I can wave and automatically make things better for them.  I really admire all of them; they have all had a lot of adversity in their lives, and every one of them has overcome or is presently overcoming them.  They could have easily ended up in a much worse lifestyle, but they have all proved everyone who has ever told them that they would never succeed at anything because they were teen mommies totally wrong.  I could not be more proud of them.  Though some of us have a difference in opinions on things and we don't always see eye to eye, I still love them all so much that it hurts sometimes. They may not realize this, but if they read this blog, they'll know.
Enough of the mushy stuff.......I am over and out for now.  I will leave you with a quote from Alan Arkin in the movie, "America's Sweethearts": life is a cookie.  What that means, I haven't the slightest idea, but it's a funny quote, so, to inject the usual humor into my blog post, I found it useful.
To be continued tomorrow...................

SATURDAY???????

Hello, everyone! I am coming to you live from Barber Hall at Treasure Valley Community College, where I am still technically a student (which is why I am able to access the internet.....bwahahahaha!).  What am I doing here,you may ask?  Well, the twins are taking their ACTs here, and rather than drive all the way back home (which is about a half hour drive one way), I opted to bring some stuff (like my laptop) to keep me entertained over the next four to five hours.  I am also armed with Fiber One granola bars (delicious 90 calorie nourishment) and two bottles of Diet Coke.  I drank my morning coffee on the drive over here, so I am good for a while.
Being here on a Saturday morning is quite wonderful; I have the commons in the building all to myself.  The only drawback I can see is that I cannot seem to locate any electrical outlets anywhere in here (if I remember correctly, there are none).  So, if my battery dies, I am screwed unless I relocate to another building, and I doubt any of them are open.  Anyway, it is nice and quiet, which is how I like it in the mornings.  No one attempting to strike up a conversation when I am not even remotely fully awake (heaven knows I should be; I made my coffee pretty strong this morning).  Another advantage to being here, especially at the college, is that I know where everything is at, especially bathrooms.  A lot of my classes were in Barber, so I am VERY familiar with the building.
I kind of miss being in school.  The reason I am not presently attending any classes is that I totally bombed Summer term last year (in my defense,  I feel that I went back way too soon after one of my hospitalizations; I think I had only been out for a couple of weeks when I went back for Summer term) and lost my financial aid.  The sucky part about all of it was that I had already registered for Fall classes, so now I owe the school money for that term, and can't return until it's all paid off.  THEN I might be able to appeal my financial aid and change my major (I was in Pre-Nursing, and now I am wanting to switch to Administrative Assistant or something in that area).  I actually LIKED school....well, most of my classes, anyway.  Math has never been my strong point, so I hated that class.  Chemistry was brutal, but I liked most of it and did well; better than I expected: B-.  Same with Biology.  It wasn't a difficult class and I really enjoyed it.  That was the ONLY class I passed during Summer term, and I got a full-on B in that class.  My professor was kind of weird, as was her teaching style.  It was a little tough to follow along at times.  But she was very personable and helped me out a lot (I was having some issues during that time, both mental and physical; my knee was in crapola shape--and it still is--so I was on crutches for most of the term).
A-ha!  I think I found the only accessible outlet in the commons.  It's right next to a soda machine.  The location is better because it isn't so dark over here; I am also directly below a skylight and the sun is shining through it,   YAY ME!
Now that I have bored you with my nonsense, I think I will turn my attention elsewhere, like Hulu so I can watch some "Grey's Anatomy".  Have a fabulous spring day!  It looks like it's going to be gorgeous.:)
Until Monday (I think...)................

Pet Peeves

Yes, my friends, I am posting TWO blogs in one day.  This is probably due to not posting yesterday or something.  Anyway, as I sit here, contemplating life, I am also thinking about my pet peeves.  Let me share a few with you.
1) "Nose noises".  You know the loogie-hocking, snort noises that some people randomly make?  Yeah, those.  Ew.
2) "Moist mouth noises", aka, squishy lip-smacking sounds.  It seriously grosses me out.  There is someone sitting across from me making those noises. Yuck.
3) Major PDAs.  Okay, I seriously don't mind hand holding or a peck on the cheek in public, but full-on tonsil hockey and groping?  Get a room and spare me from having to vomit.
4) People who tailgate.  No, I am not referring to the partying type of tailgating.  I talking about people who ride your butt when you're driving.  Unless you are a dingleberry or a hemorrhoid, please stay off my butt, unless you really want to get brake-checked.  I WILL do it.
5) Wedgies.  Especially frontal wedgies. ESPECIALLY wedgies in public.  It's not exactly like you can remove them in public without being judged.
6) Body odor.  People, PLEASE use soap, shampoo, and deodorant.  That is why such things were invented.
7) Poor table manners, i.e. talking with your mouth full, chewing with your mouth open, smacking your lips while you chew, etc.  My parents were exceedingly strict about proper table manners, so I imagine that this is why horrendous table manners bother me so much.
8) Talking on your cell phone LOUDLY in the checkout line in the grocery store.  Especially when the content is extremely personal.  Believe me, no one in the store wants to hear about your most recent gynecological visit or your sexual conquests.  It's just nasty.
9) Farting quietly, yet lethally, and not owning up to it. If you're going to float a nasty one, at least warn the people around you so that proper evacuation measures can be implemented.
10) Use of the "F" word in normal conversation.  Actually, use of the "F" word at all.  It's just so.....crass!  I know that I have been known to drop the "F" bomb on occasion, but that does not mean that I condone it.  I actually feel rather stupid afterwards.  Along those same lines, overuse of profanity is really annoying, too. It truly makes people sound stupid.
11) Being tickled. I am extremely ticklish, and I view being tickled as a form of torture.  When I tell you to stop, for heaven's sake, STOP!  Unless you want to get kicked.
12) Anyone touching my feet.  My feet are super sensitive, and therefore, I cannot handle anyone touching my feet.  It seriously makes my skin crawl. I have had traumatic experiences involving my feet, and, in addition to the hypersensitivity, touching my feet is strictly forbidden.
13) People who think they know everything about everything.  It's okay to admit that you don't know something.  It makes you human.  When you pretend to be omniscient, it's just annoying.
14) Lousy, one-ply toilet paper.  Your hiney and perineal area are VERY sensitive places.  This kind of toilet paper is chafey and miserable to use. It's all right to spend a little extra money on decent toilet paper that isn't going to remove any skin in your tender parts.
15) People who think that those with depression/anxiety/schizophrenia or any other mental or "invisible" illnesses (fibromyalgia, etc.) are attention-seeking drama queens.  If you are someone who thinks that, I feel bad for you because you are too ignorant to take the time to understand those types of illnesses.  Also, you can suck it.  I know that's not nice to say, but if you diss me because of something I cannot help, then you deserve to be told off.
That being said, I hope that no one views this entry as being bitchy.  It is written in good fun and with a sense of humor.  Sometimes, you have to laugh at the ridiculous things that bother you.  It's healthy!
Happy Friday, everyone!

Allergies & Exercise

I refrained from posting yesterday due to a nasty allergy attack.  As it is springtime in the high desert, there is A LOT of nice pollen floating around, and guess what?  I floats right up my nose and into my sinuses, wreaking havoc along the way.  Normally, I take Zyrtec from about March until October, but as I am but a poor girl, I am surviving on Benadryl twice a day to quell the sneezies and watery, itchy eyes.  Holy cow, my eyes on a bad allergy day resemble that big, red, flamey eye in the "Lord of the Rings" movies.  All the Visine in the world could not make that eye less red!
Anyway, since I was fighting off the effects of excessive pollen, I spent a good portion of the day sleeping (hello, Benadryl!).  I finally woke up shortly after my niece and nephew arrived.  By this point in time, my nephew was sacked out on the floor next to the rocking chair, and my niece was in the process of cuddling from Grandma.  Naturally, I stole her since she was wide awake and bugging her eyes out at me.  Then I got cuddle time!  I figured that I was safe in having contact with my niece and nephew as I was not at all contagious (but miserable nonetheless).
Today, I feel well enough to get outside and enjoy the warm weather while it lasts.  I swear, Idaho's weather is like a PMS-ing female: it can go from zero to bitch in 2.5 seconds.  It's very unpredictable.  One minute,  it could be sunshiny and warm (like today), and in 5 minutes, it could be snowing. Well, I look at it this way:  Idaho's weather keeps things interesting.  Anyway, I fully intend to soak up some much-needed rays (I'm so pale right now that I make mayonnaise mad) and absorb me some D (as in vitamin D).
I so need to drop some serious weight before summer is here or I will NOT have any clothes that fit me.  It's all very depressing; I have a tendency to eat my feelings, usually in the form of chocolate.  Once in a while, it's okay, but every day and in large amounts is NOT cool, though I did it anyway.  Chocolate made me feel better, though I did have "eater's remorse" afterwards.  Why can't I be one of those people that exercises when they're stressed?  I love to walk, but hate to run.  I have big boobs and therefore am not at all aerodynamically built for running.  I like Pilates, but I will only do it in the privacy of my home because I have issues with exercising in front of people.  One, I look ridiculous, like a bowl of Jello in an earthquake.  Two, I get jealous of people who aren't totally dying at the end of a Pilates class.  Here I am, soaked with sweat and looking oh-so-nasty, and there are these totally thin Barbie-doll people who look awesome.  Puh.  Anyway, I need to get a new Pilates DVD so I can exercise at home without anyone (other than Mom, and she'd ignore me) watching.  I used to have an awesome Pilates DVD by Denise Austin.  Okay, her eyes and smile were really creepy (tell me, who the heck SMILES when they're exercising?????), but it was a most effective regimen.  I have no clue where that DVD is now, but next time I have money, I will have to pick a similar one up.
Another form of exercise I can actually tolerate is yoga.  I actually still do some yoga from time to time, usually when I am REALLY anxious, as it relaxes me. I do have a hilarious yoga story to share, just to keep things real.  I took yoga as a "decompression" class while in college.  This class was scheduled at the end of the day, so it was perfect timing.  Anyway, I was able to do most of the poses with little or no difficulty, though some of them were more challenging than others due to my lack of bendiness.  One day, we used chairs in our routine.  What we were supposed to do was put our legs up on the chair, lift our butts off the floor, and hold that pose.  For a flat-chested individual, this pose would be easy, but for a boobalicious gal like me, it was nearly lethal.  My abdominal fat literally pushed my boobs upwards and into my face.  Seriously, if I looked down, which was physically impossible in this position, there would be boobs in my eyes.  All my fat and boobage rolled up into my face and I could not breathe.  Mind you, it might have been a tad easier to breathe had I not been laughing so hard, but gosh, the whole situation was downright hilarious!  I have never shared this story with anyone outside my family until now, but I figured it was okay to share it with the public now.  Anyway, my instructor couldn't figure out why I was being unpeaceful and laughing my head off until she actually SAW my predicament.  She encouraged me to abort my efforts of holding this pose for safety reasons.
Another funny experience in yoga class was when we all were up against the wall and trying to gracefully get ourselves standing on our heads.  Bear in mind, not only am I chubby, but I also have freakishly short limbs, so doing this was impossible.  I looked around the room and everyone had successfully accomplished the headstand, and here I was, trying to flip myself into the proper position, looking like a spastic fish or a turtle on its back the whole time.  Finally, I thought, "Ah, screw it.  This ain't happening" , and just gave up.  Again.  All due to excess chub and my T-Rex arms.
Now that I have hopefully made your day better by sharing funny (yet mildly humiliating) stories of my sad attempts at exercise, I shall end this post by leaving you with a thought:  you have to have a sense of humor in order to deal with a lot of life's little obstacles.  Otherwise, you go crazy, and let me tell you from experience, that is NOT fun.
Have a great weekend, and more on Monday...........

Mornings

For those of you who REALLY know me know that I am not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination.  However, after 42 years of life, my mother still has not figured this out.  I am one of these people who is barely awake and silent until I have partaken of my initial cup of coffee. Then, and only then, can people carry on an intelligent conversation with me (prior to this, I only respond with monosyllabic noises) where I can actually form words.  Mom tries to tell me things of importance BEFORE the cup of coffee, and I admit that I only half hear it.  I don't even process what she is saying. One would think that knowing my morning personality, she would not attempt to communicate with me until I have had at least one cup of coffee ( and even then, it's very chancy).  Generally, I don't even respond verbally, but rather with "the look"; you know, the one that can make the most strong individual wither under the baleful nature of said look.  Mom doesn't even blink an eye when receiving "the look" ( I reckon since she's my mom, she has pretty much been able to everything I can dole out).
I have a few members of my immediate family who are morning people and first thing in the morning, I despise them for their peppiness. Again, "the look" is utilized, and again, it is ignored.  Depending on who I am with at the time depends on how quick I can access coffee so that I'm not such a turd.  I think the funniest story involving this very thing occurred in 2002, when I was visiting my dad and stepmom (I lived in Iowa at the time) for their 25th wedding anniversary. I stayed at their house, along with my sister, Teresa, and her family.  My oldest sister, Tina, stayed with her in-laws, but still came over every morning.  Anyway, there was one morning where I shuffled into the kitchen, eyes half open, hair pointing in a northeasterly direction, still clad in jammies and slippers.  I was completely nonverbal.  My stepmom sensed the urgency for coffee and plunked down a large mug of delicious dark roast coffee.  I inhaled the delightful aroma and was instantly pleased.  Anyway, my sister, Teresa, is such a morning person.  She pops out of bed like a Pop Tart, all bright eyed and bushy tailed.  On this day, she was all dressed, had her hair nicely done and had makeup on.  Tina and I, however,were bleary and in dire need of caffeinated sustenance.  Tina, too, was dressed  with hair done and makeup on, but I assure you, she was no more awake than I was.  We both gave Teresa withering looks when she chirped her " Good morning" to us.  Anyway, I did eventually wake up and the day proceeded without any bloodshed.
As far as I am aware, not one of my kids is a morning person (Brody might be, but I can't remember).  None of them are coffee drinkers, so they wake up in their own way, usually by remaining silent until the waking process completes.
Well now that I am somewhat coherent, I will end this missive for today.  Before I go, I will leave you with this thought: take time to stop and enjoy life.  Life is too short to be serious all the time.
Until tomorrow............

Springtime Has Sprung

A rarity in the state of Idaho, the weather is positively warm and spring-like this week (highs in the 70s, ya'll).  I am enjoying this lovely weather while I can by being outside in the fresh, allergy-inducing air (that's what Zyrtec is for) and soaking up the rays.  I even dug my capri pants out of the closet AND shaved my legs today for the occasion!  Just the lower legs, though;  I don't wear shorts because I have ugly legs, and seriously, no one needs to see that.
In spite of the gorgeous weather,  I am having one of my "bad days".  There is no reason why I am experiencing the blues, especially on a day like today.  Depression doesn't have to have a reason;  it just likes to sneak up on me and make my life a living hell.  Well, guess what.  I am not going to allow it to dictate my day.  Just isn't going to happen.
Last night, my boys had a band concert. Though the high school bands (concert band, jazz ensemble, and percussion ensemble) are amazing, I was glad that the concert was mercifully short.  However, as always, music soothed my soul (though I do have "Girl From Ipanema" stuck in my head).  The concert was fun;  I love to hear my boys playing!  Kyson plays French horn in concert band, and trumpet/fluglehorn in jazz band, whereas Kade plays euphonium in concert band and bass trombone (which is a massive instrument;  it practically swallows Kade) in jazz ensemble.  My nephew, Colton, is also a band member; he played the congas and the chimes last night in percussion ensemble. My nieces, Alexa, Ashlyn, and Scarlett, ALL loved the concert.  Music lovers they are!
Speaking of nieces and nephews, Mom and I will be watching some of them today while their mommy is at work.  The older kids pretty much occupy themselves, but I always steal Baby Scarlett Ann.  She and I have deep conversations every day (as much as a four month-old can converse; she usually coos, squeals, and blows spit bubbles while I am discussing important topics). I am hoping to totally wear out the others by having them play outside a majority of the time.  It's a perfect day, so why not?
Well, I have run out of things to talk about for today, and I am really pooped anyway, so I will end this entry with a thought:  be proud of who you are!  There is no one in the world who is like you, and just revel in your uniqueness.
Until tomorrow.........

Twisters & Tremors

Okay, so in order to deal with my ever-fluctuating emotions this weekend, I decided to watch some movies.  Normally, I lean more toward movies that are comedic, but this time, I chose sandworms and natural disasters.  Movies about these things make me laugh more than actual comedies do, possibly because the special effects are silly and the plotlines are so awful that they're hilarious.
I started out my movie marathon with all four movies of "Tremors".  I love the first movie, not only because it's completely ridiculous and the sandworms (aka Graboids) remind me of oversized plankton, but when they kill the Graboids, the guts look like pumpkin innards.  I'm sorry; I am sure that this movie is not meant to make people giggle, but I can't help it.  It's so awful that it's hilarious!  Funnily enough, the remainder of the movies progressively worsen.  The sandworms mutate more than anything I have ever seen (my personal favorite of the Graboid species is the Butt Blaster.......the effects are super cheesy).  Anyway, I DO own all four "Tremors" movies in what is called the "Attack Pack".  You cannot have a better title than that for the "Tremors" franchise!  I think my favorite part of the first movie is when the doctor and his wife get eaten.  I am sure that this is supposed to be scary, but to me, it's funny.  For those of you who have not had the pleasure of seeing "Tremors", when the doctor and his wife meet their untimely demise via sandworm, the sandworm first eats their generator.  When this is discovered, the cord to said generator leads to a hole in the ground.  The doctor (aka Jim) thinks that this is some geological phenomenon, but boy, is he mistaken.  No later than he declares his theory, the sandworm decides that he looks like a nice snack and CHOMP!  No more Jim.  Jim's wife is left pawing at the soil yelling, "Jiiiiiiiiim!", to no avail.  Jim has become a meal.  Suddenly (after she thinks the coast is clear), the sandworms go after her.  Like a dumbass, she climbs into their station wagon and locks the doors, thus keeping sandworm tentacles at bay.  Then the sandworm decides that eating Jim was just not satisfying enough for its appetite, and not only does it chow down on the doctor's wife, but it eats a portion of the station wagon, too.
All right.  Enough about "Tremors".  My second half of my movie marathon consisted of the "Survival Pack", which consists of "Twister" (rated PG-13 for, and I kid you not, "Prolonged sequences of very bad weather".), "Poseidon" (possibly the most hilariously lame movie ever), "The Perfect Storm", and "Outbreak" (whose ending is extremely anticlimactic).  My personal favorite out of that group has to be "Twister".  Mind you, tornadoes, in and of themselves, are NOT at all amusing (though I lived in Iowa for six years, no tornadoes ever hit Ottumwa....only shear winds.  The tornadoes liked Agency, Floris, and Chillicothe better than Ottumwa).  Anyway, I digress.  I watched "Twister" last night, and, hello, tornadoes do NOT sound like digestive noises, nor do they have cellos or heavenly choirs accompanying them.  If they did, they might actually be entertaining as well as highly destructive.  I pointed this out to my mom, who grew up in Iowa and HAS experienced a few tornadoes in her time.  She told me that a tornado sounds like a million freight trains bearing down on you, roaring with a high-pitched whistly-shrieky sound.  I, for one, was VERY happy not to have had to experience any serious tornadic activity during my time in Iowa.  However, the shear winds were bad enough:  I lost part of my garage roof, quite a few shingles from the roof of the house, two windows, and the kids' hula hoops.  We found all but one.  I guess you could say that that hula hoop was gone with the wind.  Har-de-har-har!
Well, now that I have regaled you all with my take on cheesy movies, I must leave you for now as I have a doctor's appointment soon (for sleep apnea).  I am happy that I managed to survive the weekend without a mental breakdown, and I owe it to my family and distracting myself with silly movies.  You cannot get better than that!  However, I will leave you with a profound thought: laughter is DEFINITELY the best medicine!  It lowers blood pressure and, duh, it makes you happy!
Until tomorrow.............

Healing

Today in therapy, I will be discussing the horrible thing that is my past.  As I have stated many times,  I am a mere human and therefore, I am not without many flaws.  As someone who suffers from debilitating mental illness and has a history of abuse, my flaws are obvious and copious.  I will refrain from going into the details of my past, for that is something I do not share with anyone except my family and my therapist (and for good reason, too; a lot of people, who I thought I could trust, have used this information as a weapon against me when I got into confrontations with them.  I cannot allow that to happen again.).  Suffice it to say, I am dang lucky that my family still loves me, despite my many wrongdoings.
I am not looking forward to discussing this topic with ANYONE, even my therapist.  This will be by and far one of the most painful experiences I will have to endure. With that thought, I think of Jesus in the garden of Gesthemane; he endured much worse than I will have to. He bled from every pore!  Can you imagine the agony involved with that?  Shoot, talking about what a horrible person I used to be is NOTHING compared to what Jesus suffered.  I also think of Jesus hanging on the cross to suffer for OUR sins.  Again, when put into perspective, what I have to deal with is NOTHING!  Even though it will be painful in its own way, it's something I have to do in order to heal and become stronger and more stable.  Yes, the process will be excruciating at times, and there will be times I just want to give up, but (and not to sound cliche here) I have to endure to the end.  It has to happen.
In discussing this very topic with my mom earlier today, I totally lost control of my emotions and was a soggy, blubbering mess of flesh.  Mind you, I think this is a normal reaction to what I am about to face, but still, I was ashamed.  Dammit, I am supposed to be strong.......NOT a disaster on two feet.  Mom didn't judge me, though; she just patiently let me emote and told me that it was going to be rough, but I would feel the burden I have been carrying for over 20 years lifted from my shoulders.  Gosh, I hope I feel that!  Can you imagine how wonderful that would feel?  I would be free from the bondage of pain!!!!  Okay, that last sentence sounded like my death was imminent, but that wasn't the intention.  I have no intention of dying for some time.
I try to discuss this with my dad, but he refuses to talk about it.  He went through a pretty rough childhood and his mom suffered a lot of the same things I do. I think he just tries to block that part of his life out (and who can blame him?) and is afraid to talk about it with me because he might see some of his mom and himself in me.  He never abused us kids, but I REALLY think that he does have some depression/anxiety issues (I know my mom does, but I  doubt she'll acknowledge it anytime soon).  Be that as it may, I do love my parents........mainly because they let me live through adolescence relatively unscathed.
Well, the time is drawing nigh for me to head to therapy.  I am dreading it, but maybe it won't be as bad as I think.  Maybe  it'll be worse, but I pray that I can handle it.  Chocolate may have to be involved (I'm telling you....it contains endorphins!), but that is a sacrifice I may have to make.
Until Monday...........

Music Soothes the Savage Beast Within

Last night was the Weiser Youth Symphony concert.  I love attending these concerts because I can sit there and let the beautiful notes from the music wash over me and calm me.
Music has been a huge part of my life for as long as I can remember.  I started singing in front of audiences when I was about 6 or 7 years old; my first solo was "Silent Night", which, when sung without front teeth, comes out as "Thilent Night".  I was dressed as an angel; wings, halo, and all.  My best friend, Johannah, accompanied me on the autoharp.  Though I don't really remember if I sounded good or not, I am sure I was quite the adorable little angel with my halo slipping off my head and my wings on diagonally.
I continued singing through grade school (every chance I got), junior high, and high school.  High school was the times of my absolute BEST performances and accomplishments:  I attended Idaho All-State Choir as a first soprano my sophomore and senior years, attended All-Northwest Mixed Choir as a second soprano during my junior year, and went to State my senior for solo competition. In addition to that, I also had supporting roles in the musicals, "The Music Man" (I was Mrs. Paroo, Marian's mother) and "The King and I" (I was Lady Thiang, the king's number one wife....take that, lower-level concubines!).  I still sing from time to time, but seldom in front of an audience (or congregation).  I would like to change that.  When I sing, I lose myself in the words of the song, and, if this makes sense, the song becomes a part of me.  It takes me to a happier place than the cold, heartless world in which we reside.  Heaven knows I need to be in a happy place more often.
Every one of my five children has some musical talent, whether it be instrumental or vocal.  My oldest child, Bryan, plays bass, acoustic guitar, some piano, and played alto sax in band when he was in high school.  My second son, Brody, plays tuba and baritone, and whether he admits this or not, he DOES have a nice bass voice. His wife, Lindsey, is an accomplished trombone player and has a beautiful voice.  I want to say she's a soprano, but I can't remember.  My only daughter, Brylie, plays flute and tenor sax beautifully.  My twins, Kyson and Kade, are also instrumentalists; Kyson plays trumpet and is learning to play French horn and piano (he also sings and has a lovely baritone voice), whereas Kade plays tuba, baritone, and bass trombone, as well as learning piano, and he sings......I melt when he sings. He is technically a baritone, but this year, he is singing 2nd tenor, a change from singing bass the past two years.  Since the twins are the only ones left at home out of all my kids, we often sing together, and let me tell you, that is a truly awesome experience.  Our voices blend so seamlessly; it's like we have musical mental telepathy, for we know what the other is thinking when we sing together.  We sang together this past Sunday, and I got chills from the rich, beautiful sound of what we were singing.
I hope that whoever reads this does not get the impression that I am a braggart in any way, shape, or form;  that is not my intention, but rather, it is an explanation of an integral part of my life.  Music is an escape and a blessing for me.  It soothes me when I am hurting or having one of my "bad days".  Music motivates me when I need a little nudge in the right direction, and it gets me moving.  Music can invoke powerful memories, both pleasant and sad.  Music is an integral part of my soul.  I think that John Denver put it best:  "Music makes pictures and often tells stories; all of them magic, all of them true.  All of the pictures and all of the stories, all of the magic; music is you!".
And on that note (hahaha...get it?  Note?  And the theme of my blog today was music?), I will sign off for another day.  I pray that all of my readers can enjoy the music in their lives and let it inspire and motivate them. Music is a true blessing from God......use it!!!!
Until next time.............

BIPAPs Are Sexy!

For those of you who do not know, I suffer from severe sleep apnea (being a chunk does not help this issue one iota, by the way).  So, I use a BIPAP at night to help quell my apnea.  Some of you may have heard of C-PAPs, which delivers air via a face mask at a constant pressure.  A BIPAP is similar in that it pretty much does the same thing as a C-PAP, except for one little difference:  A C-PAP only uses one pressure setting for both inhalation and exhalation, and a BIPAP has a pressure setting for inhalation, and a different pressure setting for exhalation.  My mom uses a C-PAP and once she is all hooked up, she just goes to sleep.  I have no such inhibitions about walking around with my chin strap (I have a nasty habit of sleeping with my mouth wide open, thus causing me to snore and sound a lot like a giant tortoise) and my face mask on.  Mind you, this is not a good look for me; I look like a cross between Bane from "The Dark Knight Rises" and Hannibal Lechter.  Sometimes, I use this to my advantage and attempt to freak out my kids by creeping up on them and telling them, "Oh, so you think the darkness is your friend" in my best Bane voice (which, by the way, is not at all convincing, but it's quite fun, which is why I do it).  Another fun little thing that occurs when I don my chin strap and my face mask (sans hose that attaches me to my BIPAP machine) is that it squishes my lips out so much that it looks like a collagen injection gone horribly awry.  Shoot, not even Angelina Jolie has anything on my lips while hooked up to my goodies.  I am always tempted to apply red lipstick while in this state (and I still may do that one of these days), though when I put all that paraphernalia on, it is a signal that I am ready to go to bed.  However, red lipstick applied prior to retiring to my VERY uncomfortable bed would hurt nothing, though it may get on my pillowcase.
The twins LOVE to try to talk to me while I have my BIPAP on, hose and all.  When I attempt to answer them, the air blowing through my mask causes me to sound like I have a terrible sinus infection or something, and I occasionally snort when trying to talk.  This occurs because I have air blowing up my nose.  When I try to cough or clear my throat, I snort.  If it weren't so uncomfortable, it'd be even more funny than it already is.
Eating is also quite difficult with my mask on.  I can't seem to find my mouth very well when I attempt to partake of my bedtime graham cracker.  I tend to whack my mask a few times before I successfully place said graham cracker in my mouth.  I don't do this very often as it is kind of a difficult and rather annoying task.
All this talk about BIPAPs has made me a tad bit drowsy, probably because I associate it with sleeping.  I think I may need to have some caffeine to perk me up a bit so I can finish out my day without a nap (some of my meds make me sleepy).  I shall bid you adieu for now.  I sincerely hope you enjoy this tongue-in-cheek attitude towards my many flaws. If we can't laugh at ourselves, someone else will, and that's not cool.
Until next time...........

Weekend In Review

Happy Monday, my dear friends.  I am hoping that you all had a great weekend.  Mine was pretty much uneventful, though I did attend a fireside at church last night.  It was required since the twins and I were performing a musical number for it.  We actually sounded really good, even though we only practiced about three times, and that was about an hour before the fireside.  We sang "I Need Thee Every Hour" (one of my favorite hymns;  Kade sang the melody, while I sang alto and Kyson sang bass).  It was a wonderful fireside.  It was called "The Living Christ".  Between each musical number, someone would read a paragraph from the book, "The Living Christ".  The Spirit was SO palpable there!  I think it was probably one of the most awesomely spiritual experiences I have had in a long time.  Mind you, I DID have to take a Xanax about half an hour before we headed to the church; just a precaution against possible anxiety due to a lot of people around me AND singing in front of a lot of people for the first time in ages.  All in all, it was a great fireside.
Saturday was NOT a special day. It was a boring day.  Nobody was home except Mom and I, and Mom read while I holed up in my room and watched movies.  The twins went to their friend's house for the day and got home around ten pm.
As you can see, my weekend was, dare I say, kind of lame.  Well, except for the fireside, which was pretty awesome.  One of the groups that performed call themselves "The Royals".  I personally think that the twins and I should call ourselves "The Tiny Trio" since not one of us is over 5'3".  We have tiny bodies but BIG voices; we refrained from microphone usage when we sang.
So.........this week sounds like it has the potential of being rather fun.  The twins, in addition to singing and being in band, also perform with the Youth Symphony here in town.  Kyson plays trumpet and Kade plays the bass trombone (for those of you who have never seen a bass trombone, it is HUGE.  Kade is a tiny little dude, and that instrument is nearly as big as he is.).  It amazes me that our tiny little town possesses so much talent!  Music is a big deal here (as are sports, but since I only understand soccer, volleyball, basketball, and baseball, my interest is limited in anything but music, which I TOTALLY understand); there are so many people here that have immense musical talent.  I am really looking forward to the symphony concert tomorrow!
There is a little bit of a mystery occurring here in the library.  There is an unoccupied laptop two seats down from me.  I have been here the better part of an hour, and I have not seen anyone using it.  Curious.......  It'll be interesting to see if anyone shows up and uses it before I leave.
Well, I am running out of things to say (shocking, right????), so I will wrap things up with this thought:  a smile is the best accessory a person could have.  It coordinates with everything you wear and it makes everyone attractive, both physically and emotionally.  So, when in doubt about how to best accessorize an outfit, go for a smile!
Until tomorrow.........

Rainy Days and Fridays

Well, here it is.....the cusp of the weekend.  As I lack internet at home at this time, I will not be posting again until Monday.  Until then........
The weather has been most uncooperative over the past couple of days.  It has been cold, rainy, and windy, or, in other words, a typical Idaho spring.  I went up past Mann Creek Reservoir yesterday to shoot pictures (it's quite a lovely area), and no sooner had I drove to my preferred stop, it started to rain.  I thought to myself, "Eeeehhhhh, I can do this.  The rain isn't that bad; I may get a teeny bit damp, but I'll dry."  This was not to be.  I got out of the car and crossed the road to shoot photos of the creek tumbling over the rocks and the trees that line the banks.  I had just gotten to the barbed wire fence and the heavens opened up, making me one very soggy photographer.  I did manage to get some sweet shots in before this happened, but I still got pretty darned wet.  I did dry over time, and as this process was being completed, my hair (which, under the best of circumstances, is fuzzy and wavy/curly), decided to increase its volume tenfold.  Holy cow, it was HUGE.  The dampness caused it to swell and frizz out; I closely resembled a large brown Brillo pad.  It frightened me.  Fortunately for me and everyone else, I had a rubber band in my purse for such occasions, so it was ponytail time.
Today, it is still raining off and on (as if Mother Nature can't decide whether the Snake River Valley needs a good drenching or not.....so fickle is Mother Nature).  When I walked in to the library, it was merely drizzling.  The good thing about this inclement weather is that the grass, fields, and trees are becoming more green, making sure that we mere mortals are aware that spring is springing.
Speaking of springtime, that reminds me of a story when my twins, Kyson and Kade, were in kindergarten.  They had learned the whole "March comes in like a lion or a lamb, and goes out like a lion or a lamb" thing.  Well, their classes made a little door hanging with a lion on one side and a lamb on the other.  I hung one on the front door and one on the back door. The twins would get to look out the window at the weather and then determine whether it was lion weather or lamb weather.  Kade referred to the lion as a "wion" and a lamb as a "wam", and Kyson called them a "yion" and a "yam".  Anyway, once the lion vs. lamb weather was determined, they would then flip the door hanging to the appropriate animal.  Ahhhh....one of my favorite memories!
Fridays, rain or not, are my counseling days.  I visit with my counselor every Friday at one, and since this has been a MUCH better week, I suspect that we will be discussing what made this week better.  I think that my medications are starting to work better, I am feeling better physically and mentally (no intrusive thoughts....YAY!!!!), I'm beginning to show interest in my hobbies again, I am not sleeping ALL the time, and I have more energy.  How did I turn things around?  Easy.  I made a promise to myself to NOT let stupid people or any other adversity bring me down.  This may not work all the time, but when this mind-set it successful, then I enjoy it and use to my best advantage.  So, see?  There is ALWAYS a light at the end of the tunnel.  Sometimes the tunnel seems like it's eternal and the light a fleeting flicker of flame (hehehe....an alliteration!), but with determination and  love and support from your family and friends, you CAN reach that light and allow it to fill you.  Not saying that you're going to feel any euphoria, but you will feel hope.  If you lack hope and faith, what can you rely on?
'Til Monday.............

Round IS a Shape

Like most people who take antidepressants, I have become quite......round.  So round that I have discussed the issue with my psychiatrist.  No matter what I do (proper diet, exercise, etc.), NOTHING WORKS.  I remain round and continue to expand my horizons. So, the last time I was hospitalized (a couple of weeks ago), I talked to my dr. about possibly prescribing an antidepressant that would NOT cause weight gain (I will not discuss my actual weight, but suffice it to say, it is way more than I am comfortable with).  He prescribed me a low dose of Wellbutrin XR.  I have to say, the first week on it totally sucked because my emotions were all over the place.  However, on the bright side, the Wellbutrin quells my appetite.  While I am an individual who lacks patience (I believe in instant gratification), I am increasingly discouraged at times because I am still north of being super-chunky.  However, the rational side of me realizes that it the weight gain didn't happen overnight (actually, it was over the span of about eight years), the weight loss is going to take some time and work, though I get annoyed about the whole situation frequently.
My kids are wonderful about the whole weight thing, as is my mom.  They remind me that I need to be patient and improvement WILL happen, and that they love me the way I am (the kids said this, not my mom) and that moms (and eventually grandmas) are supposed to be squishy.  How else can I comfort a ticked off baby?  I know this for a fact; my three month-old niece, Scarlett, immediately chills when I cuddle on her.  She loves my squishiness!
I do NOT want to become uber-thin; to me, it's not attractive, especially at my age.  I figure if I get down to, say, about 130-140 lbs, that would be ideal.  Those are nice, healthy weights, and though I will be much thinner than I presently am, I will still be maintaining a reasonable amount of squish for future nieces, nephews, and grandbabies (no, Brody and Lindsey, I am NOT dropping hints).  Squish is good, fat is bad, and I am FAT.
I have had self-image issues for as long as I remember.  I remember thinking that 120 lbs was massive ( I think I weighed about 100 lbs. at the time).  I could be built like Giselle Bundchen and STILL be dissatisfied. Why do people view their physical selves in a negative light?  I have always wondered that.  No matter how attractive and physically appealing we are to others who see us, why are we never happy with our looks?  One thing my family has told me (and this is in regard to the antidepressant-induced weight gain) that they would prefer that I was chubalicious and sane, rather than thin and mentally unstable.  I'm down with that, but I still need to lose some weight in order to improve my health.  It'll improve my arthritis in my knees, my blood pressure, and my self-esteem.......I think.
I have noticed that since I have started the Wellbutrin, my appetite has shrunk considerably and I am gradually (aka VERY slowly) losing weight.  I can actually fit into a couple pairs of jeans that I had outgrown, so that deserves a victory dance, which I will refrain from doing since I am at the library;  it may traumatize people.
In closing, even though I struggle with weight and self-image problems, I do have hope that this, too, shall pass. For those of you who are struggling with the same thing, let me tell you this:  there IS hope.  It will require hard work on your part, but you CAN do it! Never give up on your goals.
Until next time.............

Day One: Introduction

Hello to all of my future followers! My name is Crystal Channell, and this is my very first blog.  I have started this blog on the advice of one of my kids.  I usually have a lot to say about certain topics, and I thought that this type of forum would reach out to more people than it would on Facebook.
So, let us begin this with a little bio about me.  I have five great kids:  Bryan, age 23, Brody, age 22 (and his wife, Lindsey, age 21), Brylie, age 19 (serving an LDS mission in Guadalajara, Mexico), Kyson, age 17, and his identical twin brother, Kade, age 17.  As you can see, most of my children are grown and independent, and I am also facing the dreaded "empty nest" in about a year and a half.  Eek. This sure makes me feel geriatric.  However, I will still be pretty young when everyone is gone, so I intend to enjoy myself.  I don't know exactly how yet, but I am sure I will think of something when the time comes.
Some of my interests include photography, reading, and, of course, blogging.  By creating this blog, I hope to reach out to people and inspire them to better their lives.  See, I also suffer from severe depression and anxiety, so much  that I have been hospitalized many times in the past year.  I want to share my story and experiences as an individual that suffers from debilitating mental illness in hopes that I can help remove the stigma attached to this illness, as well as help others understand this illness.  A lot of people are under the impression that depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, and other mental illnesses can be turned off and on like a light switch.  This is not the case.  For those who are not in the know about the physiological aspect of mental illness, it is caused by the brain either secreting too much or too little of certain neurotransmitters, which, in turn, create the illness.  It cannot be controlled, but it can be maintained by medication and psychotherapy.  As you can see, I am an advocate for mental illness awareness.  As I mentioned before, that is part of the reason I have initiated this blog.
I have discovered that one of the best forms of therapy for me is my photography.  I am but a mere amateur, but I learn a lot through trial and error (and photography classes).  My preferred subject matter is nature;  you never have to pose it or coax it into cooperation like you would a human subject. All you have to do is photograph what you find beautiful and inspiring, and chase the light (the inspiration for the title of my blog).  Nothing is more fulfilling to me than a peaceful drive out in the hills (I live in a small town, Weiser, located on the Idaho/Oregon border, and our area is high desert) and take pictures.  The other day, I drove out about 15 miles east of town, through open range for livestock (so I encountered many cows and horses) and copious amounts of sagebrush.  Much as I wanted to explore, I refrained from doing so due to the fact that the disgusting rattlesnakes are coming out of hibernation.  Eecchh.  Anyway, I got plenty of good shots while I was out, and it was the most relaxing day I have had in a very long time.
Well, I think that this is enough for today.  I hope that those who choose to follow me will enjoy what I have to say and be able to take something from this blog and be able to be inspired, moved, or amused.
Until next time.................