January 2nd, 2019

There are some of us moving on to new chapters in life.

My pen is poised over the paper, but my first page is still blank.

What I can do is send wishes out for all of my WP family for a wonderful new year, whatever chapter you may be in, keep turning the pages.

I’m so grateful to keep moving forward.

A great reminder

Expectations are things that trip me up.

I’m not sure why I have fallen back into expectations, but I got a good kick in the pants and it’s time to get back to appreciation and gratitude.

Expectations put an unnecessary pressure to situations, and I have found that they also limit my ability to appreciate.

I’m starting off with a fresh perspective this morning.

I’m so grateful for the kick in the pants that woke me up from expectations and reminded me to appreciate the gifts in front of me.

Have you ever been grateful for a kick in the pants?

OMg, it’s only 12:30 on a Tuesday

I’ve been running since yesterday morning, tearing up my To-Do List, attending meetings, working out, cooking, cleaning, doing the NAPMW financial report for September, conference calls, reports, having sushi with my buddy Kimberly.

I looked at the clock a few minutes ago…….It’s only 12:30 on a Tuesday and I’ve done enough in a day and a half that it is justifiably Thursday morning at least. Just saying.

Can I just skip ahead? Can I pass Go and collect my $200 please?

Back to the work out

After much to do about the Frozen Shoulder,

I made my way back to the TRX work out at the yoga studio.

I may not be able to move later.

The Side Plank Crunch reminded me how much strength I’ve lost this summer.

It was good to sweat it out, and laugh with my buddies.

I’m very grateful to have a place to work out with fun people.

Here’s an example of some of the core work we did yesterday.

Image from Pinterest.

From the feet up #5 and final

The eyes.

It was a debate. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to speak of my eyes or my skin. The skin was too general, so the Eyes are #5. To finalize things on my gratitude journey and work on accepting my 50 something self.

As I mentioned in a previous From the Feet Up post, I’d been conditioned from a young age to look at the faults, and to compare myself to the media images. Well, I’m not a media image, and the war going on with what I look like now, and the image I have in my head has got to come to an end. I’m going to make peace with myself, even it’s peace, piece-by-piece.

To sum things up, or in conclusion based on the facts previously laid out. I have a very strong frame. My sturdiness, muscle, strength, and solid form have served me very well. I can walk for days and days on strong feet and legs. I’m flexible, and well able to keep myself strong through my regular activities. I have fine health, every scar and every part of me tells a story, and every single part of me has fond memories that are centered around my family and children. That visualization alone helps me to parlay peaceful terms with myself.

To finish things off, #5 on the list are my eyes.

I’m a Brown Eyed Girl. I’ve never been a big eye make up aficionado. Too much and I look like a weird, demented owl. No Smokey eye for me.

The brown is a sort of Whiskey color, with a strong green ring around the outside of the Iris. The depth of the brown will change depending on what I’m wearing, or how much time I’ve spent in the sun. Some people say that’s Hazel, and I guess they are right, but they are Hazel Brown, not Hazel Green. I’m kinda happy I’ve got both Brown and Green in my eyes.

I have my Grandfather Thorne’s Eyes. My youngest son Zach has them too. We all have the smattering of freckles on our noses too. Angel Kisses as my Grandfather used to say. He’d call me his “little brown berry”. I got his Olive completion and I get very, very, very dark with just a little bit of sun.

I’ve been told that I have very ‘sharp’ eyes. They can slay, that’s for sure. In a meeting a few years back, one of the SVP’s of our division was saying something very offensive, and against everything that our group had proposed. He kept looking at me and clearing his throat, very nervous. He finally said, ‘Wendy, please stop looking at me like that, you are scaring the S#17 out of me.” I just said ‘good’. The right eyebrow will arch and intimidate as well.

Scars? Yes, I have a scar in the corner of my left eye. It was quite pronounced when I was little. The OB who delivered me told my mother that since she was so petite, that I was curled up with my toe next to my eye, and that caused the scar. He said that she was very fortunate that it hadn’t gone into the eye, or that would have caused some significant developmental damage, it could have cost me the sight in the left eye or the whole eye.

I am very fortunate indeed.

Peace takes practice. Thank you all for your indulgence on this journey. I know it’s going to take time, but now I have some strong visualization I can use when doubt creeps in. I am strong, not just intellectually or emotionally. I’m strong from my from my feet up.

Not changing my clothes

A couple weeks ago we went to see ELO.  https://wendysharesathought.com/2018/08/11/elo-the-jeff-lynn-tour

Wardrobe……clothes…..decisions…….being a girl……..

It was a great night, a great concert, a much appreciated time away from work, house, dogs, bees, etc.  There was just one little hitch that made made me a little upset with myself.

I got myself ready to go to a Rock Concert.  I hadn’t been to one in quite a few years, and I wanted to look, ‘rockin’. So I got myself together, and came out to join my husband and son and got this:

And this:

And Silence…….until my son nudged his father, and said ‘way to go dad’. ‘Say something nice quick.’

He couldn’t. He didn’t.

It was a little too late at that point. I went and changed. Then I was mad at myself.

I should have worn what I wanted. Mainly because Boys are dumb.

That’s it for the mature assessment of the situation. 😆

Next time, I’m not changing.

Cheers to getting my confidence back.

My Over 50 Rockin Look. Ta da.

Sneaking in while she’s not looking

Last week was hairy, stressful, and fraught with challenges.

I’ve had a difficult relationship with my dad since he disowned me a few years ago. That sounds weird, right? Why am I spending time with someone who disowned me? That’s a long story about my son’s pace maker, and my controlling step mother who wanted attention over the situation. It was the final straw of a long string of narcissistic behavior, and I put my foot down. So now I’m out of the family.

My dad and I talk on the phone occasionally. But that’s been the extent of our contact for the last few years except one brief visit in February of 2017.

He’s in declining health. His wife was needing a break from taking care of him, and my brother was going in for a few days and asked if I wanted to visit while she was away.

When I got in town, I was instructed to go to the main gate of the community where he lives to pick up a gate pass. When I pulled up, the attendant was adorable and was so excited that I was there as a “surprise” for my dad. I got my gate pass and headed to his condo. I parked in the driveway and called my brother to make sure it was ok to go up.

The last time I saw my dad was over a year ago, and his wife would only give me 30 minutes with him, and hovered without giving us a chance to speak without her in the room. It was a terrible visit.

As I got to the stairs to his 2nd story unit, my brother came out on the porch so exited. “Dad, look who’s here!”

My dad made his way to the porch, way too thin, a little too shaky, but happy to see me.

A surreal moment. He cried, and kept staring at me. He kept calling me beautiful, and apologizing for staring. He also kept saying ‘I’m so happy for how you’ve turned out’. I’m not sure what that means to him, and I really didn’t want to ask. I just held his hand and asked about him.

I cried, my brother cried, I think the neighbors cried. It was a weepy community by the end of the day.

My dad is suffering from dementia and Parkinson’s, but mostly I think he suffers from boredom, inactivity, and a controlling wife.

We ate, laughed, reminisced, but he got tired quite often, and he would nap. We tried not to wear him out.

When his wife called on Wednesday night, he covered for me, and didn’t tell her I was there. That shocked me.

The Jig was up on Thursday, and he didn’t remember to keep my presence from her. The trouble was soon on, and my brother did a magnificent tap dance session to calm her down.

I left on Friday happy to have had some time with him. I may have to continue to sneak in, and it might be more difficult next time, but I’m up to it.

An old Polaroid from 1979.

Tony-Good Guy. “Good Guy” because my dad has always been a very snappy dresser. He always had on his Gucci. Gucci shoes and belt had the GG on them. If anyone ever asked what the GG stood for, he never said Gucci, he said it meant “Good Guy”. He will always be Tony-Good Guy to me.

MRI, testing, and comfort food.

With all the Storm issues, flooding, recovery, etc..when my Dr. Office reopened I got a call.

We have concerns about your recent tests, please schedule an MRI, and let us know where to fax the orders.

I had the MRI on Monday.  It was on my pituitary gland, yes, my head.  I’ve never heard such a noise, as the MRI. 

It was a little difficult, as my mother and aunt both recently died of cancer that matasticied from the points of origin into their brains. Brain tumors and terrible deaths….can you tell this bothered me a just a little.

As much as it bothered me, I focused on just getting through.

I got word back today that all is well, and that a medical protocol will be short.  No chemo, no radiation for now.

I’m just so grateful.  So I celebrated with a little fine breakfast…. By myself. Isn’t that beautiful?

My server’s name was “Precious”, no kidding!  She was as precious as her name implied.  I wrote a fabulous 5 star review for them on Travel Advisor.  A crab cake Eggs Benedict with Texas Pecan Coffee was amazingly fabulous. 

A thought

IMG_1228

I sat and thought about this question.

It was a little difficult for me to wrap my mind around.  I like to think that practicing the elimination of the word ‘fear’ or ‘afraid’ from my vocabulary, or thoughts would just make it go away.  I’m definitely better at not using the words, but the feelings sometimes remain.

If I wasn’t ‘afraid’ or afraid of being foolish, I would spend more money, and travel more.

I would build the house on on the property we bought, instead of just planning and piddling on it.

What would you do?