You are worth more than that

My mother stressed that our health was more important than anything- my entire life she stressed that. I had three operations as a child that cost them well over $1,000 each when I was 10,11,12 so '78, '79, and '80. That's a whole heck of a lot of money for them to lay out for me. When I found out one time I kept saying 'sorry'. My dad looked at me and said,"You don't think you are worth that? You are worth much more than that!"

To someone on this earth- you are worth so much more than that! You are a priceless gem- and you light up people's lives- whether you are in a good mood or not. No one is worthless- not even when you are stuck doing something you hate and feel like you are unloveable and unworthy of good feelings. In those times you are worth even more- because you don't see your awesomeness.

Thank you again, dear reader, for being you and not giving up. You are worth it!

-Cindy

Just Cindy

{Photo taken at 12:32am- in semi darkness because this is my normal natural habitat many nights. Sorry for the grain-iness. My phone has trouble in the dark.}

-Cindy (plain old Cindy. There's something simple and true about being just Cindy. Soothing and comforting, and adventurous- because plain old Cindy has not gone on her adventure yet. She hasn't found her purpose, but she knows her heart and she knows her God. And that's more than she had the last time she was just Cindy.)

This is how I finished a letter recently.  And it is so extremely true. I know my God so much better than I did before. I still don't know all of Him, I may never be that close to Him. I have learned so much about myself in the last bunch of years. The last 2 particularly have been extreme learning experiences. And when I learn more about God- I learn more about me and He is able to heal my inner pains just that much more.

On Honey.... And other things

So you all know that I am a type 1 diabetic and that I have basically avoided any straight form of sweetener aside from Truvia or Stevia. I am known to indulge in ice cream and a sweet every now and again but I try to keep it to a minimum.

So a month or so ago, I was over a friend's house for lunch. It was much needed girl time with some dear friends. And I was truly blessed there. 

What I want to mention though was for dessert we had these amazing fresh sliced strawberries! So I had some and I sat there thinking,"What IS that taste?" I finally asked and she had added honey to them because they hadn't been sweet enough. (She was totally apologetic but I can have a little on occasion and I was totally fine from it.)

What struck me as funny was that I couldn't pin point the taste. I always used to have honey in my tea- always. And on Rosh HaShonah the traditional dessert is apples dipped in honey. I can't tell you how many years I would be licking the bowl after! So to forget the taste of Honey- yeah that was really really strange.

I guess that is what happens when we cut things out of our diet or our life. 

I remember a time when I was totally at ease at a bar when I turned 21 and was spending time with my love there with our friends. Now- I feel totally not at ease anywhere like that,

So it goes to follow that if I cut out harmful things from my life- that possibly I will eventually forget them and feel uncomfortable around them. This is a good thing! I don't want toxic things in my life! 

So I am asking questions and trying to identify my toxins and rid my life of them. I'm asking God's help, of course. And I might enjoy them later on occasion. The lifestyle change of removing it and living without it is the goal.

What do you need to remove from your life???

"All the possibilities, no limits just epiphanies"- American Authors

So I was driving to go play board games this afternoon and this song comes on the radio. It's "Best Day of My Life" by American Authors. It's an incredibly upbeat song. But whenever I hear it- I hear that one line I used as a title.

My entire life I have seen God as a Dad figure. But I always saw Him as a disciplinarian. Old Testament God is not forgiving and can be downright scary! (10 plagues on Egypt? 'Nough said.) but it has been more recently that I have started to realize that God loves me, I'm His daughter, and He really likes me too! He reveals things to us- not always for our correction and discipline- because He wants us to try new things and learn in new ways. Lately the things I feel like God is showing me, well, they aren't orders, they are ideas. They are ideas I get to examine and adopt if I want to. Now if God gives it to me and I don't choose to do what it seems I should do, things might not go as smoothly for me. But He STILL loves me- forever and back. And the best thing is: HE LOVES YOU THAT MUCH TOO!

Today I am a happy slug

Lol hi there! So there are some day that I have tons of energy and get tons of stuff done- errands, emails, phone calls, decluttering, laundry, dishes.... And there are days like today. I have had a phone conference and texted people. I haven't even defrosted dinner. These are the days that I call myself a slug. It's getting warmer out and I need to start waking up early and napping in the day so I get things done. But since I didn't, and I feel sick, well- i am slug like. And I know that it's ok. 

My worth is NOT attached to my level of productivity. If I don't clean the kitchen floor today- I am no worse a Mom than I am if I do get to it. Now the kitchen floor does get cleaned- but it has a fluid time schedule.

The only thing I absolutely need to do every day- is figure out dinner. That's it! My boys are teenagers. I don't have to be on top of them every day anymore. And they don't NEED me like they did when they were younger. They came home, invited a friend over, popped popcorn, and are currently watching a scary movie in the basement.

They need me to do the grunt work- you know- provide the much loved snacks and laundry and dinners. And they have chores, they help out. 

But they also know that their ability or lack of ability is not why we love them. That being diligent workers is good but that they are valued anyway. At least we are doing our best to teach them this. 

It took me way too many years to learn this. I'm hoping that this will encourage all of you reading this to remember that even if you lay in bed all day you are valuable. And you are loved. And please know that there is freedom in being a happy slug. :-)

My kindergarten experience (or why I hate milk!)

I had my first ever personality conflict in Kindergarten. 

I need  things explained to me- I always have. Lol why? and how? and 'cause why? And what? And when? Are all huge in my vocabulary even at 47! (Thanks to everyone in my life for putting up with my incessant questions still!)

So please realize that on top of everything I am explaining- that I was quite a precocious child.

Mrs. J. was a huge southern woman of African American descent. (I was 5- and extremely small myself- she appeared just big to me.) She was a very maternal looking lady with a big smile and on first meeting her I thought I was going to absolutely love being in her class!

 How wrong that first impression was. How terribly, terribly wrong. 

She insisted on teaching us how to sing and sign "John Brown's Baby" which I remember practicing every day for the entire year. (I think we performed it in our graduation show for parents and siblings. I can still sing and sign the chorus- that's how much of an impression it made.) It isn't that difficult a song and it was really irritating.

 Singing was the first thing we did every day after hanging up our coats and our bags. We would sit in a circle and she would take attendance- tell us the agenda for the day- and we would sing. If you came in late she would stop the class from singing, say "Good Morning Miss Fenenbock! I'm so glad you could join us. Get set up and come over quickly!" It was said sugary for the adult escorting us, then she would be nasty for the rest of the half day class.

She also wanted us all to be included in everything- which is a good thing truthfully. But I had an issue in her class. I was so small- like not even 30lbs in kindergarten if my kids are any guide, which I was informed is pretty accurate.  I was unable to drink the half-pint of milk that was purchased by our parents to drink with the cookies for snack. After eating a full meal an hour before class- my stomach simply wasn't that big. 

So the battle began. Because in Mrs. J.'s class, there was no food wasted. Did you hear that? So because I could not finish my milk, I could not begin writing my numbers  when everyone else did. (A particularly torture laden punishment- especially when we could work on the number 5 in green crayon!!!) 

And there were comments. Now, mind you, I was liked well enough by the other kids in the class. But Mrs. J. used to hurry me up to drink the milk because the clean up monitor needed me done to finish their job. So the kids started to try to hurry me as well. 

Now I already knew I was supposed to be helpful by then.  So I would tell them I would do my desk- I would help them.  And it stopped them from rushing me. (I still hate to be rushed...) but when Mrs. J. discovered it she was livid. 

After months of this- I finally told my parents what was happening- and that was the beginning of the battle over the milk. Eventually the decision was made that my parents would not buy any more milk and the remaining milk I would store the open container in the fridge to drink the next day. It made me stand out but less than it had previously. At snack time the milk monitor would get all the milks and hand it out, including mine if there was no started one. If there was a started one I got it myself. 

 Sounds easy, right? Well remember that if we weren't on time to class she was unpleasant the rest of the day? So I was habitually late since I hated that song and I liked talking with the crossing guard. 

One day, it was a Monday. I don't know if it was after break or just a weekend. I went to look in the fridge to see if I had a milk started. I got in the teachers way. She queried me- I told her I was looking for my milk. Her answer has stayed with me my entire life since. "You STUPID chil'! You can't even remember if you have an open milk or not?!"

She yelled it so the entire class heard. It made me stand out and it made all of my efforts to help her by looking for my own milk null and void. No amount of helping ever worked to gain me a compliment from her.  It made kindergarten a nightmare. All I wanted was to participate and contribute. It is what every kid wants. And when you get a job you feel important. If I did enough good things I would eventually get assigned a job. (In reality as long as I wasn't tardy- we had a rotating chore chart but I wasn't able to understand it.)

By the way, Mrs. J. "done be retirin'" 5 years later. When I was informed about it, I clearly remember telling my Mom and I discussing that it was definitely "Six years too late."

I find now- 41 years later- that I learned a lot from Mrs. J.  I learned about flexibility, and about remaining calm. I also think she may have had some issue as she was so extremely rigid in her rules. She also had 18 kids around her for 3 hours twice a day- she was a very gifted woman. I know I could never have done that.

To this day I dislike plain white milk. Like don't put it in my eggs, and when making breaded chicken cutlets I do not dredge them through milk. I do use milk in Mac n cheese and recipes where you absolutely need it. I will pour a glass liberally to all who ask for it and will flavor it if anyone wants that. 

I'm thinking of hanging up my cape

Hi! I'm Cindy and I have a superwoman complex. (Rest of group: "Hi Cindy!")  It causes me to feel incompetent even when I get things done. It causes me to feel I MUST help people whether they need it or not (on occasion.) It causes me to go out of my way- wrecking my day so I can do something that fits into someone else's schedule. It exhausts me, frustrates me, and prohibits me from getting my stuff done (contributes to it at least.)

I'm not blaming anyone- I am taking responsibility for my thoughts feelings and actions. Please join me on a non-judge mental tour of things that might have caused this in me.

You remember when you are little and you walk into the kitchen and just hang out and start talking with a family member? And sometimes- if they are prepping dinner they will say,"Cindy, make yourself useful and peel some carrots." Remember when that type of thing happened to you growing up? No, they weren't shutting me down but asking for help while I spent time with them. And I was always happy to help them.

Or when you go to an event early and someone asks "would you be able to help set that table, please?" I wasn't always so willing to help with but it was a social obligation that I grew up with.

Well- I internalized it somehow. I need to feel useful. I do! Like all the time. I'm happiest when I am helping people. (Except painting but that is to be explored another day.) So, when someone asks me for help- I automatically say,"Sure!" I don't even think of my plans or how it will affect my family or my set up for that day or week. I see a need and I fill it. I take care of it. I rescue that person from their need. End of story. 

I need to remember that being useful is not always good. It is sometimes good for the person you are helping, but it isn't good for you all the time. And I don't need to be needed. Sometimes it is feeding someone's codependency on getting outside help. It is so bad at times that people start to expect it of you. 'Oh, you need help that day? I'm sure Cindy can cook a meal or something.'

At work there were a few weeks where I was on the schedule for a measly 4 hours but I worked at least 12 because when people call in- they call me to fill in. (Truthfully- they call in anyone who is not working that day- but I respond quickly.) The bad of that is that they were expecting me to fill in whenever they had an opening, despite me needing to get my own stuff done. And they were putting me in for fewer hours because of it.

So why do I feel I need to rescue people?  I think it is tied to my needing to be accepted. I feel that if I don't help out- they won't accept or care for of love me anymore. Now- let me make this EXTREMELY CLEAR- my family has loved me unconditionally through good decisions and bad. They have always been supportive even if they do not agree with my choices. I hear their opinions and then they find a way to help me in any way they can once my decision has been made. We may not be perfect- but my family has this part right.

I believe it goes all the way back to kindergarten but I will get into that another time. Suffice it to say that my teacher didn't help the need to do thing to be in people's good graces.

So it encouraged me thinking if I help- people will like me.  I'm sure there were many other occurances in elementary school on up to the cliques in High School that encouraged this concept.

Fast forward to the present and you have a Mom of two special needs teenagers- who works part time- and has her own health issues to handle- and feels like she constantly has to play Superwoman. 

Well, here it is folks. I am going to try to hang up my cape. That doesn't mean I won't talk to anyone about stuff that I am knowledgeable in, or I won't do for others, but I am not being taken advantage of any more. 

Next time I do something for someone, I will do it totally with love in my heart- not as an obligation or as a 'save' or 'rescue' attempt.

Thank you all for reading this extremely long post. It means a whole lot to me that you took the time to finish it. 

With much love and a more peaceful heart,

Cindy