Days 74-75 Happy Anniversary to the Greatest Man On Earth

I am using my blog today to celebrate my marriage to the greatest man on earth.  This Saturday, August 20, we will have been married for 17 years. 
What an amazing journey we have taken together!  How blessed we are to have found each other in the hallways of Stephen Decatur High School!  It had nothing to do with luck or coincidence; my parents began praying for my future spouse when I was just a small child, and God answered their prayers.

I started a new school my sophomore year of high school.  I went from a small private school to a large public school.  I was overwhelmed and a nervous wreck.  I always enjoyed history class because the teacher was so personable.  There was a boy in my class that, I could tell, found me attractive.  There was no way he could have "liked" me, because we hadn't met, but he definitely stared at me a lot.  It was obvious to the teacher as well.  She liked to have us work in groups, and she would always smile as she was selecting the groups as she made sure we were in the same group.  I had a boyfriend at the time, so I wasn't interested, but this boy in history class certainly began to grow on me. 

He told me, yearas later, that he would stand back and watch as I walked down the hall.  He can even remember certain outfits that I wore!  Honestly, when he tells me these stories, I just can't stop smiling.  They're priceless.  He said, "One day you were walking down the hall.  I was standing with a friend and we were watching you.  I told my friend that I was going to marry you someday."  Priceless!  At that point, I don't even think we had spoken two words to each other! 

We became friends.  We enjoyed each other's comany immensely.  We wanted to spend every waking moment together!  We both loved adventure and to "walk on the wild side" a little too much. 

Even as friends, he would mention another girl, or hang out with another girl, and I could literally feel my blood boil!  Why?  He wasn't even my boyfriend but, still, I felt like he was mine!  He was the exact same way.  One day, junior year, I rode home from school with another boy.  It was no big deal...just a ride home from school.  Well, it was a big deal to B (my future husband).  He came over a few minutes after the boy dropped me off.  He asked me why I rode home with him and I replied, "Why not?"
He threw my science book on top of the roof!  We still laugh about this story.

Finally, B and I decided we had played enough games.  We were going to "go out."  In other words, we were going to let the world know that we were officially boyfriend/girlfriend.  Life was grand.  We were two teenagers in love.  Then, a slight problem...

He had told his dad that he would move to Auburn, IL his senior year to play basketball for their team.  The time came for him to move, and it was brutal.  We didn't have cell phones, texting, facebook, or any of those luxuries.  So, after junior year, he moved.  He came home as often as he could, but we missed each other terribly.  Summertime was ending.  We were preparing to enter our senior year of high school.  It was a Sunday afternoon, and he was with me and had gone to church with my family that morning.  His school was starting the very next day.  We were both feeling down. 

Out of nowhere he said, "I can't do this."
I said, "What do you mean?  You are all registered to start school tomorrow!"
He replied, "I can't.  I want to move back.  I'm going to go to school here.  I need to go talk to my mom I'll call you in a little while."

He left, and I was pacing, nervous, and confused.  What in the world was he planning to do?

Well, that night, he was back at my house!  He moved home with his mom!  Oh, happy day!  We were thrilled that we would be starting our senior year together!

School began, and as each day progressed, our love grew.  I remember one night sitting with B at my parent's house.  We told them that we planned to get married.  They said, "That's fine...after college."  Well, that wouldn't be a problem!  We were already seniors.  We'd go to the same college, get our degrees, get married, and the rest would be history.  That was our "plan" anyway.

In November of our senior year, I began to feel sick.  I was exhausted and would feel sick every morning as I tried to get ready for school.  I would get sick again before lunch.  By the time I got home from school, all I wanted to do was to go to bed.  Finally, it hit me.  Could I be pregnant?
I took a test one Saturday afternoon while Brock was at basketball practice.  He played varsity basketball at our high school and he was amazing...a natural talent.  I loved watching him play ball, and I still do.
Anyway, the test confirmed my greatest fears.  I was pregant.
We were 17 and scared, but we already loved the precious baby growing inside of me.  Brock assured me that everything would be alright, as he always does, and I believed him, as I always do.

It was tough.  We told our families and our friends.  We continued to go to school and concentrate on our grades and extracurriculars.  It became almost impossible.  Brock was still on the basketball team.  I would climb to the top of the bleachers, with my growing belly sticking out for the world to see.  The glares and stares were hard to accept.  Finally, B recieved a bad grade in calculus.  His teacher said that he had even been sleeping in class.  He was kicked off of the basketball team because of his grade.  Our stress level was beginning to rise at an alarming rate.

We decided that we wanted to get married right away.  Brock actually had a scholarship to play basketball at a college outside of our city.  He knew it wouldn't work out.  He knew he would need to go to the community college, so that we could remain close to home and our parents.  We needed their guidance. So, he did not accept it.   Our baby was due in July.  It was important for me to remain on my parent's insurance plan for the baby's birth.  Otherwise, we wouldn't have been able to pay for it all.  So, since the baby was due in July, we chose August to get married.  August 20 sounded like a splendid wedding date.  So, we began making preparations for the our baby's arrival and our wedding day.

Christmas was approaching, which meant a much needed break from school.  I was looking very pregnant.  I grew fast!  I began to dread school because of the whispers, taunts, finger pointing and double-mindedness.  I decided it would be best for me to finish up my senior year at the vocational center.  I was only 1/2 credit short from graduating.  It would just be easier.  So, I registered and started right ater Christmas break ended.

Finally, graduation from high school was upon us!  A friend told me that at school that day they had their heads measured for their graduation caps.  It hit me that I would not be graduating on stage, but I would just go sit in the audience and see B walk across the stage.  After school, he came over and I asked him about the graduation information they had received. 
He said, "I don't know.  I'm not graduating on stage." 
"B, just go ahead and do it.  You might as well."  I said.
He replied, "If you're not, then neither am I."

It was just one more example of B being completely selfless.  On graduation night, we went and had a nice dinner out with our parents.  We both had our high school diplomas.  It was May of 1994 and we were high school grauduates!

(My blog is turning into a novel, so I'm going to try to be brief.)

Yes, we were high school graduates with no money and a baby on the way. 
Our precious baby was born on July 1.  She was simply out-of-this-world unbelievably perfect and we fell deeply in love with her right away. 
Now...to pay for this new little bundle!  I called the hospital and asked them if I could set up a payment plan. 
The secretary said, "Sure, how much are you planning to pay each month?"
Hesitantly, I replied, "Ten dollars."
To our surprise, she agreed to it!  Perfect!

I continued to live at home with my parents after the baby was born, and B slept there on the couch so that he could help in the middle of the night.  He started working full-time at a construction site.  My dad got him the job.  We needed to try to save as much money as possible before the wedding. 

August 20, 1994 was a day to remember.  It's a day I will always cherish.  Brock and I were married!  He became my husband, I became his wife, and we had a beautiful seven-week-old daughter.  We were a family!  Whether we were rich or poor, having good times or bad, or sick or healthy...we promised it was forever.

With very little money, our honeymoon consisted of driving an hour away to Bloomington, IL.  We stayed in a hotel there Saturday night and Sunday night.  We left at 6AM on Monday morning because B had his very first college class at the community college and it started at 8AM.
The honeymoon was over!

We were living with B's mom.  She lived alone and had a three bedroom home, so it was nice to have an affordable (free) and loving place to live.  B was in college full-time and working odd jobs.  I was staying home with our baby.  It was working out; however, we felt we needed to try to find our own place.  We applied for government assisted apartments, which means the rent is based on one's income.  Finally, we got a letter stating that we had an apartment!  So, seven months after we got married, we had our own place.  We were thrilled!  Everything was falling into place!

For the next four years we lived in our goverment subsidized apartment.  At times, Brock would work full-time and attend school part-time, and then he would go back to school full-time and work part-time.  He worked so hard to provide for us.  He worked in the tire department at Sams Club, he tutored kids in math and he drove a fork lift for awhile.  If we would be short on money he would sell his baseball cards, or whatever else we could come up with just to make a few extra bucks.  I babysat kids in our apartment.  Some days, there would be our daughter plus five or six others running around our small apartment. 
Every day we struggled, every day we were tired, and every day we felt hopeless, was just one more step closer to reaching our goals.

Finally, after four years in the apartment, we knew that we needed to do whatever it took to get Brock through school.  He needed about one more year of attending full-time and working only part-time in order to get his college degree.  We moved back in with Brock's mom for about six months so that we could save every penny.  Brock worked, went to school, and finally received an excellent internship with the company that he currently works for.  It was a PAID internship!  We bagan looking for houses to buy.  On our budget, we knew it would'nt be easy, but we were determined.

Graduation day was approaching, Brock found a job, and we had a house!  Yes, the location of the house was probably considered "the ghetto," but it was still our house!  My husband was a college graduate!  He had so much going against him, but he fought through it all.  He would not take "no" for an answer. 
I saw all of the nights he stayed up the entire night to study for a huge test because he had been working so many hours that he had not had time to study.  I saw the times he applied for jobs only to be turned down.  I saw every time he didn't know where our next dollar was going to come from.  I always saw determination in his eyes.  He never gave up.  He was mighty.

I began taking classes at the community college.  I took our daughter with me to the preschool they offered there.  She loved it.  During my breaks from classes, I would go get her out of her class and we would have lunch together in the cafeteria or just walk around the campus.  They were some of the sweetest times.  We would share a coke from the machine, and we were two happy girls.

When she started kindergarten, I had achieved my associate in arts degree and wanted to go on to receive my bachelor's degree in education.  My husband was working full-time at his job and helping me achieve my goals now.  He would tutor me in my math classes (I am HORRIBLE in math).  He would stay up late with me so that I could study.  I hate staying up alone.  I took day and evening classes, so often times he would be at home alone at night with our daughter as I pursued my degree.  It was the longest two years!  I wondered if I'd ever get my degree!  So often, I just felt like giving up.
B would say, "You've got this!  You can do this!"  He was right!

I graduated in May of 2002 with a bachelor's degree in secondary education and acquired a job right after graduation in a high school in our city.  We were both employed!  We were both college graduates!

I can't begin to describe the amount of tears, determination, and frustration those first seven years consisted of.  Looking back now, though, we view those years of living in our government subsidized apartment as some of our best.  We laughed, cried, learned, grew, and began raising our amazing daughter there.  It was filled with so much love.

We were happy the day we were able to move from the "ghetto" to a more regular neighborhood!  Our hard work was paying off.  We gave God all the glory for it.  He always provided for us.  He was always there for us.  He saw every tear, every smile, every frustrated sigh...He was always taking care of us.  Also, much credit must be given to our families.  They were our "rocks."  They cheered for us!  They loved us through each and every difficult moment and triumphant event!

B and I were, and still are, each other's biggest fans.  He is my cheerleader and I am his.  We were thrilled in the beginning of 2003 when we decided to expand our family to four!  We finally had the money and resources to do it!  We had even paid off the birth of our daughter!  After years of paying $10 per month to the hospital, you can imagine our pride and delight when we were able to just write a check for the balance! 

We were on a mission:  a baby mission!  I was still teaching and our daughter was in fourth grade.  After a couple of months of "trying," I became pregnant!  We were so thrilled!  I took several tests.  It was awesome!  I felt sick, my breasts hurt so badly...YES!  All of the signs were there!  I was getting up every morning at 5AM to run before I would get ready to go to work.  One morning, a couple of months into my pregnancy, I began my run and I thought to myself, "How strange, my boobs don't hurt."  It was an eerie feeling.  I went to work, and about halfway throught the day, I starting bleeding...heavily.  I knew I was losing the baby.  I left work and the doctor tested my pregnancy hormones and confirmed my fear. 

B, our daughter and I were devastated.  My daughter cried and cried.  That night we went to Moncials Pizza and ate ourselves sick and then got Ben and Jerry's ice cream and ate all of it. 

The doctor soon gave the go ahead to continue trying to have a baby.  Months passed.  I was underweight from stress and exercising all of the time.  The holidays approached.  We enjoyed Thanksgiving and Christmas and all of the food that accompanied them.  I put on about seven pounds, and voila...I became pregnant again!  I believe my body was healthy and ready to conceive.  Nine months later, we became parents for the second time to a son.  He was born in September of 2004.  My fabulous husband was a daddy again. 
He is, without a doubt, the world's greatest dad.  (Yes, those t-shirts were designed around him...)

I decided to quit my teaching job and stay at home full-time.  My husband is so understanding and considerate.  He knew how badly I wanted to stay home with our new baby; however, it was going to be a pay cut!  We were going from two salaries back down to one.  We decided that we would just cut back in any way possible.  We had survived on nothing, so we could definitely make it work on just his salary alone. 

We've spent the past six years raising our children, watching them grow, and loving them through life.  B continued working and I continued staying home...and working!  We always put God first.  We pray about the steps we make and the paths we take. 

Brock was asked to take the job in NY in October of 2010.  We decided to pray about it.  My first instinct was to literally scream, "NO!"  My family, friends, home, and life was in Illinois. 
The more I prayed, the more convinced I was that we were supposed to go.  My husband, the love of my life, had been given this amazing opportunity, and he deserved the chance to take it.  He has always been there for me.  Whether anxiety or depression, physical sickness, or simply daily struggles, he is right next to me, pushing me along, cheering for me, and loving me.

In our 17 years of marriage, I've been fat, skinny, had short hair, long hair, and gone from a cute little teenager to a mother of two in her mid thirties.  His love for me has only grown. 
The teenage boy that I fell so madly in love with is now a successful, Godly man.  He is brilliant.  He's the most loving father.  He plays his husband role to perfection, and I'm not always easy to please!  He listens to me, comforts me, and only wants the best for me.  He has my back in any situation.  He is my best friend and the most amazing lover.  Really, is there a better combination?  I don't think so!

From sharing my ice cream cake on my 16th birthday, to this weekend when we'll be celebrating our anniversary with some delicious desserts, the last 17 years of my life have been blessed beyond measure. 
The boy of my dreams is now the man of my dreams, and he always will be.

Happy 17th Anniversary, B!  You really are my better half.

Days 70-73 No More Meltdowns...

Recently, I blogged about "attitude."   How one chooses to reacts to a situation is key.  It is all about attitude.  Our attitude is one of the few things that we can actually control. 
This is something I have to work on every single day.  My dad used to say, "Heather, you need an attitude adjustment!"  He was usually right.

I've actually had to say that to myself several times throughout the past few days. 

My husband came home from work on Friday and I was having a meltdown.  You may wonder what exactly a meltdown is.  Well, it's when I am crying so hard that one can't really even understand what I am saying as I try to talk through the tears.  He kept trying to figure out what was wrong with me.  He wanted to know why I was crying.  He was trying to fix it.

A couple of things had happened that day, and neither warranted a meltdown.  I left the house only two times on Friday, and both times I had individuals treating me very rudely.  They treated me in a way that made me want to look them in the eye and say, "How dare you?  I am struggling here.  Why on earth would you treat me this way when you don't even know me?" 

In Illinois, this behavior would not have bothered me.  I would have either laughed it off, or fought back.  Then, it would have quickly been forgotten. 
Why the difference?
I've said this before, but I have to say it again:  I am completely out of my comfort zone!  Everything is still unfamiliar.  I have lived here for two months.  I lived in Illinois for 25 years.  Obviously, I am more comfortable in Illinois.  Sometimes I just long for everything familiar.  I ache for it. 

I become very attached to "things."  For example, I was born in Kentucky and lived there until I was ten-years-old.  Even now, 25 years later, every time we visit Kentucky I have to drive past our old house.  I drive by really slowly and try to look in the windows...creepy, huh?  I loved that house!  I remember the way it smelled, the games we played there, and the pets I cared for there.  That house just brings me joy.  I smile when I drive by.  It's comforting.  That's why I love driving by my childhood home during each visit to Kentucky.

Our house in Illinois recently sold.  It's no longer my home.  For the most part, I am thrilled that our house sold!  We won't have to pay the mortgage there anymore, or the power bill, or lawn care, etc...Praise the Lord!  We have been praying for the house to sell since before our move, and now it has!  So, what is my problem with it?  Well, selfishly, I fell in love with that house as well.  We worked so hard to make that house a home.  We picked out the perfect color for the walls, had so many laughs and also had some tears there.  We celebrated birthdays, births, graduations, holidays and many milestones in that home.  We had our family and friends over for food and fun in that house. 
Now, it doesn't belong to us anymore. 
Of course, when we go to Illinois in December, I will drive past that house, slowly, and smile.  It will feel familiar, comfortable and warm.  I look forward to it.

I've been told that it takes a year to adjust to a big move.  Some days, I feel like I have lived here for years.  Other days, I feel like an alien on a strange planet.  I daydream about my hometown.  I seriously crave everything that was familiar to me.  I look through photo albums and I'll see pictures of the house that just sold, and I just stare at the picture as if it were another lifetime. 

I need to change my attitude, and when I begin to have these feelings, I have to be brave and calm.  I believe it is completely normal to experience the feelings and emotions that I am experiencing.  It is okay to miss my old house, my old comfort zone, and everything familiar that Illinois offered me.  I can't let it get to the meltdown point, though.  I need to get to the point where I let myself be sad about what "was," and then move on and be happy about what "is."  I am blessed and I know that. 
I am just still getting used to all of the "new."  I've never been great at change, but I am sure learning now!

On a lighter note:  About a month or so ago, I blogged regarding going to the grocery store and never seeing a single person that I know.  I love people, so not knowing anyone is very frustrating and, at times, lonley.  Today was different!
I was coming out of the grocery store with a cart full of groceries.  I was wearing a denim dress.  The dress had quarter length sleeves with a V neck, which led to five buttons.  I looked over to my right, and I thought, "That man looks so familiar." He was looking at me the same way.  As soon as it became a little uncomfortable, he said, "Hey!"  He started walking over to me and I was right! I knew him! It was the pastor of the very first church we visited.  He has a son that is my son's age, and they became quick friends.  The boys have played together a few times since we've moved here. 
We had a nice conversation surrounding the start of school and getting our boys together for another play date.  It was such a nice conversation and I smiled and as I turned away I said, "OK, I'll call you soon and we'll set up a day for the boys to play!"  I began walking to the van.  I happened to look down, and to my horror I realized that the top button on my dress was unbuttoned.  Remember, the top button is already placed well under the V neck of the dress, therefore, my bra was completely exposed.  Seriously, it looked like I was trying to put on a show...a very small show, but still a show!  OMGoodness!  I got in my van, looked in the mirror, and my face was so red.  I could have cried. 
Instead, I laughed and called my husband.  He said, "Oh, Heather!"  Then, he laughed hysterically. 

I can't rush myself.  I have to take my time and adjust.  Total adjustment will happen; I have no doubt.  Until then, I will really try to give myself permission to be sad for awhile when I miss the familiar people, places and things from back home.  On the other hand, I will give myself the attitude adjustment I need when my "missing home" turns into a pity party.

And...I'll be sure to keep my top button buttoned.

Days 67-69 Just Dance!

Yesterday was an exciting day for me.  It wasn't because I got my nails done, or found a great deal on a super cute pair of high heels.  The reason was simple:  The GOP debate was coming on, and I couldn't wait to watch it.

Just thinking of all the hopeful candidates lined up on the stage, all looking their best and completely studied up on one another, sends a shiver of excitement through my entire body.  It isn't a matter of right, left, independent, male or female.  I just thoroughly enjoy a good debate.  It thrills me to listen to each candidate's views on topics that are important to this great nation.

My husband got home from work and I was cooking dinner.  My husband and son started a game of Monopoly and my daugter was at the dining room table pulling up songs that she likes on her laptop.  My mood was one of enthusiasm because I knew that after dinner I'd pull out some snacks and we'd sit down and get to know the candidates a little better. 

As my daughter is playing music, I began to dance.  I was totally bustin' a move in the kitchen as I stirred the meal.  I was doing what my daughter described as the "sexy funky chicken" while adding spices to the chicken.  I was performing all of my 80's moves to perfection.  My daughter was screaming with laughter.  My husband and son came in.  My husband smiled and my son just sort of stares at me wide-eyed, like, "Oh, mom!" 

Although my daugter was begging me to stop, she joined in a few times.  Right before dinner was ready, I broke out my air guitar.  It was brilliant!  My son loved it.

We began to eat.  Honestly, it was horrible.  I looked up from my plate and saw my husband taking tiny bites with a, "How can I get out of eating this?"  look on his face.  My son just looked at me and said, "Mom, I sure do like your broccoli."  He always finds the sweetness in not-so-sweet situations.  I noticed my daughter didn't even have a plate.  She said, "I had a snack after work so I'm not very hungry."  She was the only smart one.

We finished quickly.  We did't exactly finish our food, but we finished our dinnertime.  My family walked away from the table, still hungry!  I asked my husband, "Do you think that was gross?"  He said, "Oh no!  Maybe just bland."  I said, "Please!  I can do bland, but I can't do gross, and that was just gross!"  He smiled.  He's a smart man.

I'm not a great cook, and everyone knows that.  I have been known to follow a recipe with exact precision, and the meal still doesn't taste right!  The "cooking gene" just somehow missed me.  I've learned to accept that. 

Although our food was horrible, and we left the table hungry, all was still very well in our home.  We all had smiles on our faces. 

One things for sure:  My family won't remember the night I served them a meal that wasn't fit for human consumption, but they WILL remember me dancing in the kitchen.

Day 66--This day has gone to the ducks.

We started out with good intentions.  Our good intentions have turned into a big mess...literally.

We have a small pond on our property.  It's probably about 70 yards from our house.  It is home to some tiny fish, huge bullfrogs, and a pretty good sized snapping turtle.  It is also home to a momma duck and her seven ducklings. 

We were thrilled when the ducklings arrived!  They were so tiny and they followed the mother duck around in a single file line.  She watched over them so carefully.  She was always alert.  She never let her guard down. 

We decided it would be a great idea to feed them.  So, we did!  Each day, sometimes several times a day, one of us would walk down to the pond and feed the ducks.  They were so leery of us at first.  That didn't last long.  Soon, they began to swim toward us each time they saw us coming. 

The ducklings began to grow. 

We enjoyed watching them mature.  They began to wander a few feet away from their mother.  They didn't watch her for every cue.  Before long, it was difficult to distinguish between the momma and her babies!  They were all the same size!  Still, every time they would leave the comfort of the pond, she would lead and they would follow...in the adorable single file line.

One day, a couple of weeks ago, I woke up early and noticed that the ducks were in our swimming pool.  The weather had been dreadfully hot and humid.  I'm sure the small pond became warm and muggy, and the pool felt refreshing.  The sight of them swimming around in the pool made me laugh out loud.  Before long, they waddled out of the pool area and back down to the pond. 

I didn't think much about it after that.  We, of course, continued to feed them.  They began to come up to the front yard.  I am an animal lover, so, I was always thrilled when I'd pull in my driveway and find the family of ducks hanging out close to our house.  They began to take food directly from our hands.

By now, the ducks are very large.  No wonder!  They eat very well! 

Life for our duck family was grand!  Then, a problem developed.

The ducks took over our pool.

They were no longer satisfied with a quick dip in the morning; they decided to take up residence in our pool.  They said "Goodbye" to their small pond and "Hello!" to our refreshing pool.

This is when the day went to the ducks.

When we try to go for a swim they won't leave!  We refuse to swim in our pool with eight large ducks!  We try to scare them out of the fence, and they are very hesitant to leave.  Finally, we get them outside of the fence, but they stand there, in a line, staring at us.  As soon as we relax, even for a few minutes, they waddle back in and jump in the pool!

It's just not adorable anymore.  I never realized how often ducks poop!  GROSS! 

We put up chicken wire fencing in the ground surrounding the entire fence.  The chicken wire is about five feet tall. 

Problem solved...right??

Wrong! It stormed all day today.  Every time I looked out the window, I felt accomplished because it was duck-free.  Then, around 4PM, I noticed the ducks making their way from the pond to the pool.  It was pouring down rain and I thought, "Well, maybe they are just searching for shelter." 

Obviously, I know nothing about ducks. 

They approached our pool.  They began walking around it, almost in a panic.  My windows were open and I could hear them quacking.  I'm sure they were cussing me out in duck language.  They were determined to find a way through the fence and into our swimming pool.

I continued to watch.

All of the sudden, one of the ducks flew over the fence.  Two more followed.  Within ten seconds, all eight ducks were cheerfully swimming in our pool.  I felt like they were staring at me, through the heavy rain, and thinking1, "We shooooooowed YOU!"

I went out and worked, feverishly, to get the little critters out of the pool and back to the pond.  They just kept swimming!  They knew I wasn't coming in!   I grabbed the long net and began trying to "fish" them out.  Annoyed, they got out of the pool.  Then, I had to chase them around the pool toward the gate.  I must've looked like a total idiot! 

There I was, out in the rain, running around the pool with a nine foot net in my hands screaming at eight ducks to, "Go back to the pond before I kill you all!"

The ducks slowly made their way back to the pond.  Seriously, we are searching for another option.  We have about three weeks left of summer and our pool has been taken over by ducks, their feathers, their poop, and their arrogant attitudes!

When is duck season?

Days 63-65: I'm starting to believe that attitude really is everything.

Often times, my attitude reflects my current circumstance.  That is quite the opposite of my husband.  He is the "happy go lucky" type.  When he comes home from work each day, unless I ask, I have no idea how good or bad his day at work was. He comes home smiling, regardless of the type of day he had.

I, on the other hand, am sort of like a roller coaster ride.  I don't like admitting this fact.  When negativity occurs throughout the day, one can tell just by my attitude.  When my day is relatively smooth, one can easily see that as well.  When my husband comes home from work each day with a smile on his face, he knows as soon as he looks at me how my day was. 

Several months ago I asked him how he manages to keep a positive attitude regardless of his circumstance.  He explained it in such a wonderful way.  It almost left me speechless...almost!
He said, "Heather, two different people can have the exact same things happen to them throughout their day.  At the end of the day, person A reports that his or her day was just fine.  Person B, however, reports that his or her day was awful.  Remember, the exact same events happened to both individuals.
Then my husband explained, "Person A reports a good day simply because nothing really bad happened.  Person B reports a bad day simply because nothing really good happened."
This all made perfect sense to me.
He explained, "If bad things happen during the day, I choose to focus on anything good that has happened, and when good things happen, I remain focused on them and refuse to dwell on anything negative that might have happened."

Wow!  That makes so much sense to me and sounds so easy!  I decided to give it a try, and I failed rather quickly.  Why is that hard for me? Yes, some days aren't easy, especially since our move.  I am experiencing certain emotions that I didn't even realize existed within me.  With that being said, none of my days are horrible.  I am very well aware of that.  Some of them aren't ideal, but none are bad.

I have to "check" my attitude.  I have noticed that if I have a difficult day, but I remain positive in my attitude, it seems as if the whole situation turns around.  It really is all about attitude!

I heard a story once and I think about it when I'm in the middle of a bad attitude. 
There was a man who lived in a nursing home. He had been there for many years.  He resided in a small, simple room.  His bed was by the window.  Throughout his years in the nursing home, he shared his space with many roomates.  One day, a new roomate arrived.  The man was blind.  The men became instant friends.  Every morning, the blind man would ask his friend to describe the weather to him.  What did the sky look like?  Were the flowers blooming?  What color were they? 
He would ask the same questions in the afternoon, and then he would ask him to describe the night sky; this happened every single day.
The man whose bed was by the window beautifully described what he saw each day.  He would describe shapes in the clouds, pristine rainbows, dark storm clouds, full moons, falling stars, and a huge fountain right outside the window.
The blind man had no family.  He was never known to have a visitor.  Much of his excitement and zest for life was solely due to the nature updates he was given several times a day from his friend.  He looked forward to them as soon as he opened his eyes each morning and was able to close his eyes each night only after having the moon and stars described to him in the most magnifient details.
The man who provided the details was very old and sick.  His illness began to progress rapidly.  One night, after detailing how miraculous the Big Dipper was that particular evening in the night sky, the man passed away. 
Two nurses came into the room in the morning and began collecting his things and cleaning the room.  The blind man asked quietly, "Nurse, will you please tell me what it looks like outside today?  Is it sunny?  Have they turned the fountain on yet?"
One nurse looked at the other.  They were puzzled. 
"What are you talking about?"  she asked.
The blind man told the nurses everything.  He explained how his friend allowed him to be a part of the world by telling him, several times per day, what he was observing outside.
"Please, just tell me what you see when you look out the window." he asked.
The nurses were silent.  One nurse, through her tears, said, "Sir, you certainly had a wonderful friend.  There is concrete behind this window.  Every time your friend looked out, all he was able to see was a gray slab of concrete." 

Attitude!  One positive attitude encourages another positive attitude.  The man by the window could have easily been bitter and his attitude could have reflected that. In choosing to behave that way, he would have been of no service to the world and people around him. 

I choose to have a good attitude no matter what.  There are really very few things in life that warrant a horrible attitude.  It's taken me years to "get" this, but I am now a firm believer that we choose our attitude.  It's a choice.  It is something, one of the very few things, that we have complete control over. 

Yes, I am starting to believe that attitude really is everything!

Day 62

Today, S&P downgrades U.S. credit rating from AAA to AA+.

What will Washington do to tackle our monster debt problem?

The 14 trillion dollar debt keeps increasing, it seems, by the minute.

I have to be informed.  I don't like to have my "head in the sand."  Even so, I may boycott the news...just for the weekend. 

Day 61--Decatur...Go Get Your Groove On!

Well, it's that time of year again:  It's time for the Decatur Celebration!

I know most of you are asking, "What is the Decatur Celebration (DC)?"  To that, I have to proclaim that it is a super awesome way to hear dynamic concerts free of charge, eat delicious and calorie-packed fair food, and see people from all over Illinois and beyond!  I love the Decatur Celebration!

I moved to Decatur, Illinois at the age of ten.  Several years after, I went to my first Decatur Celebration.  I was hooked!  I've been to many fairs and carnivals throughout my life, but this beats them all.  This is the largest free street festival in the midwest!  Twenty-two blocks are sectioned off so that the fun can begin!  Typically, the Decatur Celebration has approximately 300,000 in attendance througout the course of the Thursday-Sunday that it runs. 

Some people think the DC is boring.  Some call it the "White Trash Bash."  Others believe it's just too crowded.  To all of that, I say, "NO WAY!  Put me smack dab in the middle of that crowd and let me socialize!"

If I were in Decatur tonight instead of NY I would be there.  Tonight is the Family Fun Carnival Night.  The rides are discounted and we love to ride rides.  Thursday nights don't bring in huge crowds, so it's a nice night to take the kids and let them eat junk food and enjoy some thrilling rides.

As a teenager, I  wouldn't have missed the DC for anything!  I would go with friends and we would meet boys and listen to music and ride the rides and just have a ball. I'd tease my hair all up and put on a little extra eyeliner.  I'm not embarassed to say that I would spend hours, literally, shopping for the perfect DC outfits.  I can still remember a few of them.  One in particular, was a pair of short denim shorts with a red and black plaid ruffle around the bottom of each leg.  It had a short-sleeved button up white shirt.  The shirt had a bit of the plaid on it as well, and it tied in the front.  Now that I think about it, the shorts were on the short side for sure, and I'm surprised I was let out the house like that.  Nevertheless, I was, and I was sure cool that night!

I never let anything stop me from attending this fabulous celebration.  When I was 16 I had all four wisdom teeth cut out.  I was on pain meds and I resembled a chipmunk.  My face was bruised.  It wasn't my best look.  So, I just worked on my hair to make it extra big and fluffy and put on my most awesome outfit picked out just for the DC, and that was that!  Problem solved!
Last year, at this time, I had a huge kidney stone.  It was the second largest that the hospital had seen in ten years!  My right kidney was completely blocked.  The doctors put a stent in and I ended up with a terrible fever and infection.  Finally, I switched hospitals and doctors and I had lithotripsy surgery.  I was hurting!  I felt like I had been run over by a truck and then left there.  It was DC time!  What was I to do?  There was only one solution:  Take the vicodin my amazing doctor prescribed and GO! 

I love live music!  Throughout the years I have enjoyed some super rad bands.  I have so many favorites!   I was actually was able to meet the Nelson brothers after the show and get their autograph.  I melted when they sang, "After the Rain!"  Two years ago I went with my sister to see the Plain White T's.   We were standing in the street with  thousands of others singing "Hey There Delilah" at the top of our lungs.  Little did we know what was in store for us!
My daughter called and told us that she was going to try to meet The Plain White T's.  We figured it would never happen, but we should at least try.  The concert ended and the masses started to hustle away to find drinks and funnel cakes.  We made our way up to the front.  All of the sudden, we saw one of the band members...the lead singer, Tim!  Oh my!
He went and got the others!  We hung out with them for awhile.  They signed autographs for us and we took pictures with them.  We felt like teenagers again!

Last year, I laughed until I peed my pants with my sister while we jammed in the streets as MC Hammer rocked "U Can't Touch This" and "Too Legit to Quit!"

This year's live music includes Night Ranger, Tiffany, Digital Underground, Rob Base and Downhere!  Come on people!  If you don't go, do you see what you're missing?  Do you know the DC is where I tasted and loved my very first deep fried twinkie??

I am really missing my best friend LA right now.  We go together every single year.  We head down in the evening ready to meet and greet!  She is usually looking super fly in ripped up jeans and hair that's teased just right on the top.  I am almost always in heels that hurt my feet so badly that by the time I leave the DC my feet are literally unrecognizeable.  I'm usually barefoot by the time we walk to the car. 
Last week I began to wonder...Who will LA go with this year?  She called me and informed me that she was taking her family to St. Louis for the weekend.  She wasn't even going to bother going.  Our tradition has ended, and it makes me sad.

What will I miss the most about the good ol' DC?  The people, of course!  There was nothing I enojoyed more than roaming the busy streets of Decatur and running into peeps that I haven't seen in ten years or more!  It was like a huge reunion that I was able to be a part of year after year! 

Some like it; some hate it.  I'm a fan and I always will be!  Go out and celebrate this weekend, Decatur!   Put your cute clothes on, do your hair all up, and go have a great time! 
Push and shove your way up to the front row like you own the place and sing along with Tiffany as she performs, "I Think We're Alone Now."
Oh, and have a deep friend twinkie for me!