Vroom Vroom

Today was the AWANA (Bible Club) annual Pinewood Derby.  This is Sue’s third year and Caitlyn’s fourth.  Each year they work with daddy to make a car.  Next year we add Patrice.  The girls had fun and were good sports.

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Tooting My Own Horn

I have shouted it on my Facebook status.  I have shouted it in Facebook groups.  I have texted it all over the world.

I ran 3.1 miles (5k) without stopping last night for the first time in a few years.

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And that was after walking a mile.

2015-01-22 20.07.57My legs felt okay this morning, until I did my 21 day fix dirty 30 workout.  That dude is killer and now,  feel every muscle I have ever used!!!  But I did it.  I am back to running!!!



Brave For Who

Please join me over at Project Underblog where I talk about suicide and peoples’ reactions to it.  There is a disparity in how it is viewed.  That’s a fact, but is it right?


My Siren Song

Just over a week ago

I came out of a

multi-month long


I am no longer depressed.

I am functioning like myself.

I am comfortable in my own skin.


The Siren sings.

“Come back to me.

“Come back to my arms.

“Why did you leave?

“My shelter.

“My comfort.”

I know why I left.  I fought with all I had to get free of the depression, but here I am a week out being wooed, being desired.  I resist the song I hear, but the words are still there, faintly, and behind it is a melody I know so well.

My Siren Song.

I Shake My Head

Have I mentioned that I live with Bipolar Disorder?  And that the last few months were bad?  Super bad?  Insanely bad?

Well I do and they were.

I survived, the last few days have been nice, really nice.  I can breathe in and out, I can function.  I want to live.

I got through it with a lot of different coping mechanisms.  The main one being the treadmill.  I was on it several times a day almost every day.

Now?  I don’t want to go anywhere near it.  I haven’t set foot on it in over a week.  It’s not like the treadmill caused the depression, so why don’t I want to walk down there on it?

I also did a ton of loom knitting, making 5 hats in the last month to get through.  The rhythm and accomplishment of making hat after hat made the hours I spent hiding from the world seem acceptable–okay.

How many  hats have I worked on this week?  None.  Not one stitch.  My hands are itching to,  but when it comes to actually picking it up–nope.

There’s a literal barrier there.   It is as real as any moment of the depression.  My mind and body say no, don’t you dare go there.

So I hold off, waiting, hoping the feeling lifts, without the depression returning.

I really like making hats!

Do you have anything you avoid when in depression or out of depression?  Do  you know why?  Or am I just totally nuts? ;)


Rock Solid

I miss being solid on my “emotional” feet.  You know, feeling like you know what to expect when it comes to well—feeling.

Bipolar has robbed me of that.

When I was battling Multiple Sclerosis as a teenager and young adult, I would wake up every morning and test my body, part by part, to see what worked and what didn’t.

Now, I do the same…with my mind.  Am I up, am I down, do my thoughts make sense, how fast are my words coming, are the words good or bad.  How is my mind treating me?

In those few minutes, I try to get a lay of the land for the day.

Today, started out good.  I still feel fragile after the last depression, but I could breathe in and out and cope.

I got up, I exercised–I can always use that boost for my mood and body, the girls and I got started on school.

All seemed well.

Then something small, something expected, hit me, and I was a bubbling, blabbering mess.  Hiding in the bathroom sobbing, upset.

Logical, huh?


I am much better this afternoon.  I did a few things to help get myself settled again, and they have helped, but I still miss the feeling of being rock solid, the feeling of trusting my feelings, and walking confidently through each day.

Part of me wants to curl up and surrender to the fragile emotions, but I can’t do that.  I can’t give them that much power over me.  So, I get up, make choices, and put one foot in front of the other.

Bangladesh Safari

We are using the book Asia and It’s People for our Bible lessons right now.  We are, surprise, surprise, studying Bangladesh right now :)  Yesterday we had a matching game to play.  We had cards with animal names and cards with their descriptions.  We had to match them like a memory game.

So we went on a Safari and saw Bengal Tigers, Asiatic Bears, Rhesus Monkeys, Mynah Birds, Jackals, Clouded Leopards.  Patrice found the elephants.  They were everywhere…


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2015-01-12 11.00.17See, we even had our steamer trunk and safari hats!!!

For the longest game of memory ever, but that’t not this post, huh?


Half Empty

I walked into see the movie Selma last night white, alone, and clueless.  I went two hours before to buy my ticket to make sure I got one–I was so afraid the showing I could attend would be sold out.

My mouth hung open a bit at how empty the theater was when I got there.  It ended up maybe half full.  Maybe.

I had taken a big step, one I never imagined I would in order to be there–I had come alone.  I am not by any means a movie buff.  I rarely want to go to a theater and I have never, at age 39, gone to a movie alone.

I went in with little knowledge of what I would see and left feeling very small that Martin Luther King, Jr. had changed a nation by the time he was 39 and here I had been proud at the fact that I was at the movie alone–at the same age.

Selma is the telling of a portion of the Civil Rights movement from the time Martin Luther King, Jr. won the Nobel Peace Prize until people of all races got the right to vote unencumbered in the United States of America.

It was told with stark reality and honesty.

I felt a myriad of emotions.  Anger, lots of anger at the ignorance of those who wanted to withhold rights from others, sadness at the pain and death involved, joy as progress was made, and frustration that more people were not there to see this film.

Director Ava DuVernay did an amazing job telling the story with both strength and emotion.  She went at it not just for or from the male perspective but also with the female voice.

“It was vital that they be included in this narrative.  There was no other way I could be involved if they weren’t,”–Ava DuVernay on MSNBC.

Vital is right.  They give a story that is about life, even more life.  Her additions of the many strong women involved gives the fabric of the movie depth and movement.

I am by no means a movie critic, but I believe this movie to be the best I have ever seen, right up there with Schindler’s List of the 90s.  It needs to be seen.  By more than just the four white people in the theater I sat in last night, by more than just the half theater of people who came out last night.  It needs to be seen.  By the ticket taker at the movie counter (I told her just that), by the teens old enough to handle the level of reality, and every adult who can possibly get to the theater.



*Yes, there is some language and a time or two it is jarring, but I do not find it inappropriate or offensive.

Please Say Play Dough

My house is a wreck.  I am not kidding.  There is a porcupine in my living room…

2015-01-10 13.57.10covered in popcorn.

I have a ton of energy right now.  I worked out.  I shoveled snow.  Cleaned the snow, unloaded/loaded the dishwasher and even dusted a ton.  And yet, if you came in my house, you might want to call the health department on me (kidding, don’t.  Really.  Don’t.)

I wanted to keep going this morning and then my 4 year old said, “can we make play dough?”

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Yes, yes we can.  The rest can wait.

Here is the recipe I love for play dough.

Now about that Porcupine.   It’s a funny story.  Really.


Giving the World

Hubby and I went to Disney World for our honeymoon just over 10 years ago.  We covered Disney to our satisfaction.

2015-01-07 14.07.33He stated he was good for a lifetime.

Then Caitlyn.

We were still in the hospital when he looked at our little bundle and said, “I could go back to Disney [with her].”

And maybe some day we will.  Maybe we won’t.  It may be one of those things we have to give up to have me homeschooling our girls.  And I know they will be fine if we never step foot in the Magic Kingdom.

Patrice came out today and asked “Can we go to Disney World for just one (pudgy finger and all) day?”  My heart cracked.  “Someday baby, hopefully someday.”  And I started to feel bad for myself.  And my girls.

Then my brain woke up a bit.  I remembered our lesson from Bible today. We are studying Bangladesh right now.   Bangladesh is considered the 196th poorest country (out of a list of 226) in the world.  The people there aren’t looking for a trip to Disney or even a remodeled house–they are looking for a house and food and, you know, when they dream big, to go to the doctor when they need to.  They are looking to fill their basic needs.  As many of us are.

This isn’t one of those, wake up people and stop being so selfish, posts.  It’s not.  It’s just my thoughts today.  Do I hope to take my girls to Disney some day?  Absolutely.  Sooner rather than later, I hope.  I also hope to be able to help those whose needs are even greater than my own.  Mine seem great, and in many ways are, but I want to give.  I want to  bless.  I want to reach out.  I want to support.  So many people, so many places.

What is a Charitable project or organization that is near and dear to your heart?