Not the last time
There's a song that I hear on the radio a lot right now.
It's called "Last Time For Everything" by Brad Paisley.
A little sappy, mostly lighthearted, in true Paisley style.
And in light of my recent doctor's visit, I'm thinking of a little twist on it.
I have a "skinny" bucket list of things that I can't do anymore or haven't been able to do because of my weight.
So I thought I might share that list with you.
Ride a roller coaster
Go horseback riding
Go zip lining
Shop in a "regular" size store
Fit comfortably in a stadium seat
Walk up stairs without getting winded
Walk long distances without having to stop
Not having to use a seatbelt extender when I fly
Dance all night long
Go rock climbing
So here's to my "Last time" of doing all of these things being not actually my last time.
Memories are so important
I read a quote yesterday that has really stuck with me.
Today is the birthday of one of the most important people in my life. It has been just over four years since she left the physical world, but she had really left us quite a while before that. I am so lucky that I got to have so much time with her, but it really never would have been enough.
I have so many memories that my Mormor was a part of. So many vacations, birthdays, summers at the pool, just regular days, she was there. I remember when I was a kid finding out that one of my friends didn’t see their grandma every weekend. That’s what Sundays were for, what was she talking about? It took me a long time to figure out how lucky I was and to really appreciate what I had. I remember so many little things about her that just make me smile.
She gave the best hugs.
She always had tic tacs.
Whenever I said goodbye to her, she would stand up one or two steps so that we would be the same height.
She bought us chocolate covered raisins at the candy store in Yorktown before we went to the movies.
She was always baking. Bread or cinnamon rolls or cookies or brunsviger, there was always something to snack on before dinner.
She wanted everyone to love her food. If you didn’t have at least seconds, you obviously didn’t like it. And she always made enough to feed an army. If there weren’t leftovers, she would say that she didn’t make enough.
She had a great whistle.
I could probably go on for days.
I may be a little partial, but she really was the best grandma. And she made the first twenty years of my life that much better.
What are some things that you love or loved about your grandparents?
I can’t wait to hear them.
Taking care of yourself
This past weekend, I attended a convention with about 30,000 other people. That number is seriously hard to wrap my brain around. That’s enough people to almost fill Wrigley. That’s as many people as the number of days you will live on this earth on average. It’s A LOT. And it feels like even more when you are really not a people person.
Don’t get me wrong, I am very sociable and I love spending time with my friends and even meeting new people. But, wow, was I overwhelmed. I came to the realization that I am still recovering almost a week later for that very reason.
I need to have time alone in order to be myself. I need to not be around other people to feel like a normal human. And I really don’t think that I’m alone in that. It is so important, though, to take care of ourselves and enough people don’t know how to do that. So I want to share with you some of my favorite ways to unplug, take a break, slow down, whatever you need to call it, when I am overwhelmed
Of course you can combine these as well, but the main thing is to find what works for you. I know this weekend I am going to be spending some time doing all of the above. Life is really all about balance and it takes some self-discovery to find what that balance can be for you. What are some of the ways that you like to take time for yourself? I’d love to hear them!
A hard question to answer
Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to be a mom. I never fantasized about my wedding, who I would marry or what my dress would look like. But I thought about what my babies would be like all the time. I started picking out names for them in middle school (most of the time based on my crushes or favorite TV shows and movies). I imagined that as soon as I did get married, it would happen.
But, it hasn’t. And it’s hard to say that. I have always had a super irregular cycle and was never able to get a straight answer from a doctor about why or what I could do about it. It always came back to being overweight and that was so frustrating to hear. About two years ago, I saw a new doctor and finally had at least a name: PCOS, or Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome. It was somewhere to start. After dealing with this for over half of my life, it felt like something was going to change because I had an answer. Only, I really didn’t.
I only lasted a few days taking it, and it was possibly the most uncomfortable I have ever been. I basically lived in the bathroom and was afraid to drive the hour to work, for fear that I would have to pull over to use the bathroom. I even tried to cut my dose in half and it still was too much for my system to handle. I went back to my doctor and the only option she gave me was to then start birth control. So I was back to square one.
I found a fertility clinic close to work that I decided to try and find a new doctor and see if there was anything else stopping me from having a baby. They did some tests and I even went in for a D & C and everything seemed to be fairly normal. I wasn’t ready to really start fertility treatments or anything like that which is what their primary goal was until I had more of an answer as to why things were the way they were.
Now that I have changed jobs, it made it even harder to go back to that doctor so I found someone new. I have an appointment next week to see if we can maybe get on the path to being a family of three (or more). It’s so amazing to see so many people around me becoming new parents and growing their families, but it’s also hard not to feel a little hurt and a little sad each time.
I know that if it is meant to be, it will happen, even if we have to try a little harder for a little longer. But I can almost see that little face and feel those tiny fingers. Of course I know that I am not the only one out there who struggles with this, and there are so many people who want to be parents, but I just wanted to share part of my story because infertility is still so taboo. I want to be able to tell people that we’re trying, and that we have been trying (or not NOT trying) for five years, but it seems to make them uncomfortable. If you are going through something similar, I just want you to know that you are not alone.
I'm ready to FAIL
About two and a half years ago, I decided to start a business. Only, I’ve been afraid to call it that. I haven’t been honest with myself about the work that I am doing (or not doing), and when I look back, it shows. I think, like many people, that I am afraid to put myself out there in fear of getting shut down. If I don’t ask the question, no one can say no. But guess what? Then no one can say YES either!
I’ve learned from so many leaders that failure is the only way to success. If you aren’t failing, then you aren’t trying. Every failure is an opportunity to learn something. So guess what? I am ready to fail. I am ready to fail BIG time. I am so grateful to be a part of a team that is not afraid to share their downfalls. Willing to share their shortcomings. Excited even to share when they have fallen flat on their face. If you aren’t willing to fail, then you aren’t willing to grow.
The next time that you want to step out in faith, and be bolder than you have before, just remember this: F.A.I.L. is a First Attempt In Learning. If you are going to fail, fail BIG. And I will be right there with you.
You are the only one who can write your own story.