"My Life" - 50 Cent

I.
Am.
F r e a k i n g.
Grateful.

Here is my list of 30 [one for each day in November] things than I am grateful for.

[in no particular order (other than 1 and 2) ;) ].

1. 

This guy. 
Who totally puts up with his share of crap, mood swings, running, races and more running. 

I am BEYOND grateful for MY Pita.

2.  Peanut.  This girl is all personality ALL of the time.  I love her GUTS.  And she loves me.......mostly because I know Ron.

3.  My parents.  They. FREAKING. Rock.

4.  My Mother-in-law.  I'm incredibly blessed to have an awesome relationship with my MIL.  No horror stories here guys.......Well, SHE may have a few about ME.....

5.  Having an OLDER brother.

6.  My sisters and sister in law. 

 

 

7.  My Woody - what would I do without my dear treadmill?

8.  Calculators.

9.  Spell check.

10.  Pickles.

11.  Bad races.

[yes, even this SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPER bad one]

12.  Friends.  The awesome ones.  The ones that love you despite ALL they know about you.

13.  444

14.  The Monster's in my life.

15.  Costco.  Where else can you eat lunch for free [samples], get car insurance, 96 rolls of toilet paper and see Dwight[my 65 year old in store boyfriend]?  word.

16.  Washing machines. 

17.  Bandaids.

18.  Emojis.  Seriously.  Without them.........the true point of my text would never fully be realized.

19.  Religion.

20.  Second, third and fourth chances.

21.  The "Cheerleaders" in my life.

22.  Texting.

23.  eBay.

24.  Handkerchiefs.  The only suitable "classy" way to carry two weeks worth of snot --in your pocket.

25.  Prayer.

26.  Air Conditioning.

27.  Love.

28.  Non-judgmental people.

29.  Google.

30.  t o d a y.

"Heartbeat" - The Fray

okay, so it's been a while.

So I thought I'd bore you with a few photos I've been storing up on my phone, until I find the right words to actually write a decent post.

A few are from Turkey Day [my favorite day of the year] and a few are just random photos that make me happy.

Like this photo Peanut took [when I thought she was reading] of me, doing dishes.

I love the photos she takes.

Peanut spent T-day Eve at my parent's place with her cousin.  Where.......... thanks to "pinterest" we were each lucky enough to receive one of these:

They had also made this:

which I freaking loved.

And since I had started my day off with a Turkey Day 20 . . .

I was sooooooooo ready for this stuffyourfacefest2011.

As always, my famous cookbook writing mom, put together an amazing feast.

So good, the Pita had to sleep for two hours and I got to go on a LONG walk with my brother-in-law "Buff".  [ya, freaking loved that]

We made it home just in time for this awesome sunset.

And even though the Pita doesn't see it.....I see my car in the clouds.

I. am. thankful.

freaking. thankful.

for a daughter that invited me to run club on Monday [but not so much today].
for a brother-in-law, I love to talk to.
for a mom, that's a freaking rock star.
for a loving Heavenly Father who knows what I can handle.
for bloggers who's friendships are unlike any other.
for friends with unlimited texting.
for a Dad that calls me "sweetie".
for laid-back, loving in-laws.
and
for a Pita who knows me this well . . .

Roxette.  Love.  Roxette.

Happy Wednesday.

See you in Vegas!!?!

Heart of Glass

You know what Cinderella said . . . . "One shoe can change your life."
Some days, I wish I could just have the dang glass slipper. Would have been so much easier. Instead I've got me and my [Blondie] "heart of glass".

I've been told before I am "sensitive". By some I've been told I am "overly-sensitive". I was even told by another at the ripe age of 19 that they felt like they had to "walk on rice paper around me". I'm guessing that's not a good thing. I know I've come a long [loooooooooooooooooong] way in the last 10,11,12-er something years.


I had a chance to really think yesterday [I try not to do that {think} much because it usually leaves me with a headache]. About life. About me. me. me. me. me. me. Yep, and I don't feel guilty one bit.

First, I am so grateful I have love in my life. This thought reminded me of a sign[?] I saw in a book store in Port Angeles, WA.

"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." - Lao-Tzu

Nuff said.

I am thankful my personal spiritual relationship with God provides me with eternal optimism. I know there are times when I feel depressed, defeated or disappointed, but I am blessed this wave of hope is strong enough to crush even the strongest sentiments of pessimism and despair in my life.

I am so blessed to have a wonderful family that strives to be together. To be there. To just be. Sure we can struggle with conflicting personalities like we're still kids, but I wouldn't trade even one of them [not even their spouses] for anything in the world. My family made me who I am, and I am thankful for all the beauty and challenge in that.

I cannot begin to express my thanks for such a wonderful group of friends. When I want to be accepted, loved and appreciated, my friends are there in full force. My friends have become a second family for me, a family where I can seek unconditional support, acceptance and the absence of judgment.

I am so grateful to have a career that allows me to explore my talents while maintaining the "mom/wife" role I set for myself. I love the what it has done for me & my confidence in myself.

My health deserves my appreciation. I am so thankful to be pain free [given what I do to it each week] and without any significant ailments threatening my being. I am grateful for the Pita's job & the great health insurance and a financial stability that ensures we can take care of any sickness with the best available health care.
Finally, I am grateful to the beauty I experience daily. If I don't it's because I've been too lame to look for it. Whether it is in kind words from my friends/bloggers, a text from my mom, a humorous email, a kiss on the top of my head from the Pita or in the extra 3 seconds of my "goodnight hug" to Peanut, I am so blessed to have been given the gift of sensitivity and appreciation for all my surroundings.


Cinderella can keep her shoe.

This heart thing works for me.

loy·al

loy·al - unswerving in allegiance.

I consider myself a loyal person.

I am absolutely loyal to my Hubby [Pita].

I am loyal to my daughter.  My awesome family.  My friends.  My church.  My "ED" Treadmill.  Saucony shoes.  My Thorlo socks.  My Muscle Milk.  Heck, even my Charmin.  Yes, Charmin [toilet paper].

You know . . .

Executives at T.P. companies gather in big, fancy, glassy conference rooms to figure out how they can keep us coming back to the store for their version of the fluffy soft stuff wrapped around a little cardboard roll.

We learn loyalty to some extent growing up.  I remember shopping with my Mom.  I'd bring back Colgate tooth paste but we were buying "AIM".   I didn't ask why, I just went and got the AIM. 

I'd say, Political parties are definitely [a brand] statement of loyalty - and for me and my super-conservative house.  We were republicans.  So, I supported the Republican party when I was ohhh probably 8 years old. 

Current events can change one's loyalty too.  BP anyone?  And how many of you went running for some chili at Wendy's after the "finger" incident?!  yummy.

But for today, I am so thankful to my loyal "followers".  This blogging journey has done so much for me.  Sorry to make it all about me.  "Princess" who? [that's a whole other post]. ;)

Thank you for sharing this journey of life, of living, of running, of doing, of blogging with me.

Emz

getaway day 2010

the best.

seriously.

Could not have dreamed of a better day.

I am a "Mom".   

I am blessed.

My gift from the Pita was a night at a local resort.  So thoughtful.  Exactly what I needed this weekend.

My gift from Peanut:

My sweet new bracelet [that is NOT removable].

Poem: 

Mom, I love you the bluest

Like the color of the forever sky,

like a bluebird flying,

like the edge of a flame,

your favorite color,

like the eyes of Chuy,

my favorite color,

So......... Happy Mother's Day!

All my "blue" items.  So what that I only got the blue skittles because she hates the blue ones.  Love that kid.

The Pita - AKA - the best launching pad --- EVER!

 I love the note she wrote about me:

          The important thing about MY Mom is that she helps others.
She is very fashionable and helps me cook.  She cheers people up when they are sad or lonely.  She has a lot of friends, and helps me with my homework.  But the important thing about my mom is that she helps others.

I adore being a Mom.  I'm grateful to BE a Mom.  I am blessed to be Peanut's "Mom".

We are family - hear us roar

"we are family"

[Peanut's creation from Sunday night]

My passions do extend further than my treadmill.

I'm a family girl.

I love my family. I love to cook.  I love traditions.

I am lucky blessed.

Truly.

I grew up in a Glendale, AZ home where, every week night, we ate dinner. Together. My Dad would walk in no later than 5:05pm every week day.  If 5:15 ever rolled around and Dad was a no-show . . . . panic.  Instant panic.  Hey, he was a banker with [mostly] bankers hours.  My mother was, and is (except for the time she tested a new recipe "wheat meat" - oh yummy) an exceptional cook. I guess this is what comes with the territory when your mom has published 6 cookbooks - bring on the  t e s t i n g !  People covet her roll recipe. I've spent years trying to do her pie crust justice. Her soups are a Rx for mending a broken heart & healing the soul. And I know my dad lives for her rump...um roast.

                                                  [the sweet table]

I recall vividly, as a young girl, we’d all gather to kneel in prayer and eat around that faux wood octagon table, with its horrible wicker stand {which is NOW very chic}, and wait, watching, anticipating each bowl/platter we'd soon be handed to partake of.  always feeling something important. And meaningful. Something bigger, and stronger, than our yearning for food. Something beyond my childish understanding. Something deeper than my appreciation could have ever understood or recognized at 8 or 18 years of age.

I was safe. I felt safe.  I belonged. I felt comfortable.  I was valued. And adored.


I mattered.

Fast forward to 2010 . . . me.  here.  with my family, with my child and my own home.  my own kitchen table. And after a sometimes exhausting day, with work, volleyball, running, tennis & karate lessons, working out, homework, chores and [some days] frustrated tears, we all plop down, around our table (which TODAY is sadly HUGE for the three of us) for dinner. Together.

After a few tastes of homemade goodness has reached each tummy, the mood always changes, the noise somehow fades & smiles randomly begin to appear. An unspoken happiness passes from face to face. I watch as Peanut, relaxes, and opens up. She giggles through unimportant details of her day, the funny joke her friend said at lunch [which we rarely "get"], who’s feeling were hurt today at school, which boys her dad may need to scare away slightly, in some way. The silly "then SHE said", "then I said" conversations between her friends that really never quite end in a "normal" or understandable fashion. She rattles off insignificant thoughts about everything from pencils to pandas.

But as she speaks, with such enthusiasm, candor and ease, nothing that she says feels unimportant. Or insignificant. Or silly even in the slightest. The Pita & I listen, intently, to every word we can understand. We smile. We laugh. And suddenly, it will hit me.  a familiar emotion will settle inside me. A feeling I felt my whole childhood.  A tradition kept alive. In these moments, her words, our laughter, the food...it all seems so important. Even, vital.  to us.  to our happiness.  to us being a family.

It matters. traditions matter.  Peanut matters. We matter. Families - big & small --- matter.

So now, I do what my mother did for me. I tie on my apron [which I adore], turn on the jukebox - when time allows, and cook. For my family. I invite them, without words, night after night [ok more like every second night], to leave the outside world, if for only twenty, sacred minutes, to come together, around our GINOURMOUS table, and feel safe. Welcomed. Valued. And, especially, adored.

A "Family Anniversary", was planned a few months back. While I was at a store shopping, for work ……. an employee asked why I was so rushed. I explained I was planning a "family anniversary" tonight and had to hurry home to finish the cooking. She informed me that, cooking was "degrading". While I could present a whole post just on that [the answer I gave her] - I will just say - -It is NOT degrading. Or brainless. Or pointless work. Rather, it feels like, maybe, the most important thing I get to do on a regular basis.

Trust me.

It matters.

Dinner matters. Family matters. Traditions Matter.

Traditions are like spiritual and emotional cement in the foundation of a happy home. They create fond memories, and these memories bond us together as nothing else can.

I can only hope & pray I am helping to make Peanut's childhood even 1/10th as happy as mine was.

I am so thankful.