Another of my favorite things...

Where I live! As I was driving to class tonight I had the pleasure of watching the sun set. At first the clouds were just faintly pink with a lavender tint to the surrounding clouds. Slowly they became bright orange until it seemed as though all the clouds were on fire. It was truly spectacular. But then, we have pictures and memories of many spectacular sunsets. It is just part of the reason I love living here.

I also love the openness of our landscape. You can see for miles and miles. I love watching storms roll in during the summer. I love looking out across the landscape and finding small details that I haven't seen before. I love watching the shift of colors from season to season.
I also love our mountains. Not only does it help give me a great sense of direction, but I love how big they are. They tower over the city and give it a depth and a contrast that I haven't found anywhere else. I love the pinkness of them when the sun sets, and they way they look as though they've been dusted with powdered sugar when it snows.

I love our seasons, our food, and the people who live here. I love that I live in a city but it feels like a smaller town. I love all of our quirks, the richness of our history and our culture. I love laughing at stories of people who think we're part of Mexico and all the crazy misconceptions people have about New Mexico.
Where I live is not perfect. There are some things about my state that I would change. But its beauty, its heritage, and its openness are things I give thanks for everyday.

My favorite things...Music

I am going to be doing a series on my favorite things...at least until I run out of favorite things, which may never happen. Anyway, first up in the series is

MUSIC!

I love music. I listen to music almost every day, and I love all different kinds of music. There are some exceptions, I'm not a huge fan of country (there are some exceptions, mostly just individual songs) and I really don't care for opera. That being said, the rest of the musical world is pretty awesome.
Music is where I go when I lack the words to express something, it is often reflective of my mood, and I have a song for every occasion!
Right at this very minute I'm listening to a play list I put together for Brian, my oldest. It has songs from his favorite cartoon show (Phineas and Ferb), Disney songs, songs from Sandra Boynton, and songs from a folk group called Trout Fishing in America. I love all these songs because they're all intelligent. I'm not generally a fan of music specifically for kids because it tends to dumb things down. These songs manage to be age appropriate, fun, and not stupid. Big win in my book.
One of my few splurges during the year is a Pandora membership. For $36/year I can create as many different radio stations as I like, so I really have a station for every mood! I have classical-one more geared for symphonic/orchestral music and one for more piano music. I have a jazz station that incorporates modern jazz as well as early jazz and everything that came in the middle (good station for rainy days). I have a pop music station (Brian loves to dance), several rock stations (indie, pop, punk, mixed, heavy, classic) a Christmas music station, a Broadway music station, an Enya station (I can't think of how else to describe that kind of music) a toddler music, Disney music, and a lullaby station. Each has a place and I may listen to several throughout the day, it just depends on how I feel. I just realized that I do not have a big band/swing station and I need to fix that!

I also have favorite artists, songs, and genres. I love rock music, then classical. The rest is sort of equally distributed. My all-time favorite group is Green Day. I never get tired of their music. I love anything I can sing along with, anything with great lyrics, but I also love a piece of music that says something without a single word ever being spoken. My favorite is Beethoven's symphony #7. One of the best dates I've ever been on with my husband is the one we went on last year to see the NMSO play this. So much emotion in one piece of music, it is fabulous. The right piece of music can do so much, help me write, help me think, help me clean, help me relax!

Now, I am not by any means a music geek. My mom is, her husband is, but you start getting into theory and all that and I'm out. I can read music and I enjoy singing and I used to kind of sort of be able to play a couple of instruments, but that's about it. And that's enough. I love listening to music, I love being around music, and at times I enjoy helping make music. But I don't need to be able to analyze it.
So to sum up. Music=Awesome. Definitely one of my most favorite things.

Following the call

When I think back to being a small child and the inevitable "What do you want to be when you grow up?" question, I invariably remember telling whoever asked that I wanted to either teach or help people. As I grew older I decided that I had no idea what I really wanted to do, but I have always had a strong desire to help people who were suffering. Eventually this became an unmistakable call to work in social services. I'm not sure in what capacity that will be yet, but I know that's where I belong. The first class I took that was directly related to the program, I opened my text book and read the description of a social worker and went "Yep! That is me!"
I believe that all people are given skills and abilities that are unique and fit them uniquely to do certain things in life. Some of us are called to be number crunchers (not me!), some of us are called to be doctors or nurses, some to teach. I know that I am called to help others. But that doesn't mean that I do not on occasion doubt myself.
Sometimes I am afraid I am wrong. Maybe I'm arrogant to believe that I have anything to offer anyone. When my classes are difficult, or I look ahead to my Master's program or the state licensing requirements and feel small and inadequate, I think that perhaps I was wrong. Maybe I'm not cut out for this. Maybe all I'm good for is pushing paper and answering phones (horrors! I hate to answer my own phone for people I know half the time...I can't imagine doing it everyday for complete strangers!). Sometimes I nearly drown in a sea of doubt and fear.
But then I remember. I am God's unique creation. I am the only me ever to be, and no matter how many people came before or will come after, there will never ever be another me. That's pretty special. And nobody would ever make anything so special if it didn't have a purpose. I cannot imagine doing anything else with my life. So despite all my fear and doubt and insecurity I know the call of my heart. I have to let go of my limited vision, and my limited understanding and have faith that the caller and the call are true. Because really, faith is the only cure for fear.
So, when I think about my future and what I am working toward and I feel that incredible sense of peace and rightness, I know: this is my direction. I may not know exactly how it's all going to work out, but I know that I am heading the right way to get there.

Scars

Most people have at least one or two scars. I have several. I have a few on my hands from horsing around. I have one on my left forearm I got in a fight when I was a kid. I have 3 part scar on my stomach from an appendectomy. I think stretch marks count as scars and boy did my kids give me plenty of those! I have four on my right ankle/leg. One I got when I was a little girl, the other 3 are the result of surgeries to repair a broken leg/ankle. I have scars on both my shoulders and one on my right arm. All of my scars have a story.
But I also have scars that you can't see from the outside. Places where things have been broken and have healed. I've been seeing something go around Facebook the last couple of days about "invisible illnesses." This is really about invisible scars.
For most of my life I have struggled with an invisible illness and it has left many scars on me and those around me. When I was a teenager I was diagnosed with depression. When I was 18 I was given an official diagnosis of dysthymic disorder (http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmedhealth/PMH0001916/) and major depression. I went to therapy for a little while, took anti-depressants, and none of it really helped (funny, since I now want to be a therapist). When I was 19 I attempted suicide and spent several days in a mental hospital. There's a fairly large scar there and I can honestly say I don't remember a whole lot of what went on. I can recall one incident from the ER when they were going to put a tube into my stomach to get the charcoal in and they were talking about restraining me and my mom said no, that I would hold still and I was strong enough to do that. I had never felt so weak and my mom was saying that I was strong enough, that I was stronger than this. I have never forgotten that. Even now when I feel overwhelmed I remember that even at my weakest, I was strong enough.
The funny thing about this scar is that in the long run is has done a lot more good than harm. It was an ugly, terrible, awful thing. I hurt a lot of people, and I hurt myself. But it has given me a passion. I am driven to help people who feel as helpless, hopeless, lost, hurt, angry, confused as I was then. I have never once since woken up and felt that the world would be a better place without me in it. I used to wake up every day and wish I hadn't. I appreciate my blessings more. I am kinder. I have more compassion for people who are hurting. It was a true blessing in disguise.
I will never be entirely free from depression. I may not struggle day to day anymore, but I was told that I will likely suffer at least one more major episode during my lifetime. Maybe I won't, but I could. The day to day depression is gone, although I do occasionally still feel a little blue, particularly when I am overly stressed. But I have learned to listen to myself better, to know my limits and what I can and cannot do and to respect that.
And why have I written about this? Because depression is an invisible illness. Because the person sitting next to you might be depressed, or the guy who made your coffee. You don't know. But like any other illness it can kill you if it isn't treated, and so few people get the treatment they need. Societal stigma, lack of resources, fear, shame. I always avoided talking about my depression because I was afraid of being judged, because I was ashamed. I am not anymore and while I don't intend to take out a billboard next to the freeway about it, neither will I hide it away. It is simply one of many scars and it has a story like all the others. The real takeaway from this is, for me anyway, be kind. You don't know what people are going through. So spend a little more effort and be kind to those around you. Even when you don't want to, you never know when you might make a difference.

Big Weekend

This is a big weekend for us. My son, Teddy, is six months old today! It has really flown by. I feel like it was just yesterday he was a bitty baby just home from the hospital. Brian had his first full week of Pre-K and his first bug from school. Tomorrow is my husband James and I's first wedding anniversary.

Teddy celebrated his birthday by getting shots, which was not his favorite activity, but he is doing great. He is meeting or exceeding all of his milestones and has doubled his weight and grown 4 3/4".
Brian still doesn't tell us what's going on at school but thankfully his teacher includes a "what we did this week" notice every Friday. They worked on writing their names this week and Brian is doing really well. They also worked on science and had chapel and music. I'm sure Brian enjoyed all of it. He really loves to go.
James and I are celebrating by having a kid-free night. We're going out to dinner, and then I have no idea what we'll do. Something fun, I'm sure.

All-in-all this year has been very full. New baby, lots more responsibility for me at school, and the on-going issues with James's job. It will be nice to relax tonight and really take some time to be grateful for all the blessings and gifts that this year has brought us.

Have a great weekend everyone!!

Remembering 9/11/01

Everyone who was alive 10 years ago remembers where they were today. Many of us will spend the day in reflection about where we were, who we were with, what we remember.
I remember 9/11 as one of the most difficult days I've ever lived through. I was home when the towers were hit, and home when they fell. My ankle was broken and I didn't feel like going to school. I remember getting up and seeing the news on TV. I remember asking my mother what was happening and she said we didn't know. I watched as the second plane flew into the tower, I watched as people jumped from the windows and smoke poured into the sky, I watched as the towers collapsed. I watched them re-run the footage over and over. I remember Peter Jennings, tired, disheveled, weary, and just as confused as the rest of us, but remaining calm, remaining reassuring, even as we began to make sense of what had happened. I miss him.
I will always remember that day. My heart broke to see people jump. I have never been so afraid of what tomorrow would bring.
Ten years later we live in a world I don't think many of us could have imagined. In some ways I think this is a world we would not have wanted to imagine. We live in a world of terror threats, terrorist actions, extreme fear. There is great unrest in many places and we remain at war. We live in uncertain times.
However, I remain convinced that in spite of all the unrest, all the uncertainty, some things do remain constant. Love is constant, hope is constant. We may not know what tomorrow brings, but we can hang on to love and hope.
For me I choose love. Not hate. I choose hope. Not fear. I have no control over what tomorrow, or even today, will bring. But I have control over how I will approach it. I have control over what I will do. I have control over my reactions.
I will remember this day with sadness for the rest of my life. So many were lost on this day. So many have been lost since then keeping this country safe. We may lose many more in the future. But I hope that it will not be in vain. I hope that one day we can build a world at peace. I hope that one day we may honor those we have lost by creating a world where no one is lost in such a needless way.
Remember 9/11. Remember those who were lost. Build a future they can be proud of.

Time flies

It's been a busy week for us. We all had Labor Day off and we spent the day doing things together as a family. Tuesday was fairly quiet, but Wednesday was Brian's first day of pre-K.
I think it went well. He didn't cry, didn't cling, didn't fuss. In fact, he acted like he's been going to preschool or daycare his whole life (he's never gone). His teacher had to make him come back out and say good-bye to me. Watching him walk into his classroom and begin this whole new phase of his life was bittersweet for me. On the one hand, I am so proud of him and how confident and open and friendly he is. And on the other I wish that he weren't growing up quite so fast. I've tried to raise him to be self-sufficient in a lot of ways, and he is. And really that's a good thing. But sometimes, just sometimes, I just wish he needed me a little more than he does.
His second day of school was today and went just as well as his first day. And it was a little easier on me. He wanted to stay longer when it was time to leave, but I am glad he is enjoying it so much. He is growing up so fast and while part of me wishes he could stay a little boy forever, most of me is just excited to see who he's growing up to be!