What a blessing reminders are!

This past week has been full of reminders.

Reminders that life is short and sweet, and my kiddos need time of quality with me. I obliged, happily, and was reminded of how fun these two are :)

We don't talk about money all that much - I don't think it is an appropriate worry to instill in kids. And I think that is working out to our advantage, b/c apparently, LMNOB said we're rich. Her reasoning is that we have nice clothes, a nice, big house, and good food. By the standards of wealth in this country, we aren't rich. But by that of our global neighbors, and by the sheer fact that she thinks we are, we are rich indeed. A reminder from above.

Laying on the couch yesterday, pooped as could be, having Charlie Brown care for me and overhearing him tell his mother how much he believed in me and knew that we were doing the right thing (while he thought I was sleeping - which I was, mostly) with our work and school arrangement was a great reminder of how sweet he can be.

Having him do the dishes, on his own, with no preemptory whining/nagging from me about how hard the day had been reminded me that he not only can be sweet, but he is sweet. And he's mine.

Tonight - Punkinhead was being a big ball of goof and very obnoxious. Charlie Brown told him to get his hands out of something - when he didn't listen, Chuck says *JOKINGLY* "Alright, I'm gonna cut your fingers off, muahahaha." And when both Punkinhead and LMNOB broke into body wrenching sobs, sure ,we felt bad, but we just looked at each other and busted out laughing at the tragedy of a joke gone bad. And as we laughed, I felt peace.

Sure, we get a bit dramatic over here at the casa del Meyer, but we've got Love and laughter more than anything else. And if you haven't got those, in the Divine sense and the family sense, then what do you have, really?

We're going to be ok....

Thanks, to my Heavenly Daddy for the reminders aka blessings.

Another one bites the dust...

We have an alarming trend at our church right now.

Everyone is leaving. And not moving away leaving either.

I don't get it.

They're saying, "our needs aren't being met," but they haven't said a word....until it's been too late.

Yeah, there's some ugliness, some pettiness and age/ideal division going on - but what church doesn't have that? We are people after all...and not at all perfect.

I dunno. One thing that has been impressed upon me in recent years is that I can't ask my church to be my one-stop shop for my spiritual needs - much like Charlie Brown can't be that for my emotional needs. It's ok to have several sources to feed your power supply, so long as the primary one is recognized as just that. The only difference being, in marriage, CB is the primary emotional need-meeter. In my spiritual life, that primary source is God, Love Himself, rather than the church - you know?

I'm not mad, not judging - I just wish it wasn't this way. Say a prayer, will ya?

Woodrow Wilson...or a good game of tag??

Hmmmm.....Reading and dishing about WW's The Study of Administration - which is the almost Shakespearean precursor to motivational business books - for school, or taking Bobby up on a game of tag?

Uh, duh. WW's tedious essay is going to have to wait for tomorrow, when my brain is not so sleep deprived.

So...it's basically 5 trivial things ya'll don't really know about me, right?

1.) Even though I hated being one of MANY Heathers in my peer group (late 70's/early 80's) I much prefer it to what was going to have been my name: Tricia Dawn. I have to thank God for unsophisticated pain meds that made my mama loopy on this one. The story goes that after I was born, Mom was high on the labor pain medication given her and when the nurse asked her what my name was, the television in the room happened to be tuned into General Hospital, wherein my namesake made her debut appearance: a gorgeous new female character, named Heather, entered, swaying Mom enough to name me Heather before passing out. My grandmother then took the liberty of giving me her middle name for mine. Funny, huh?

2.) I usually get along better with men than women. The only exception to this is that I am very close and girlfriend-like with a ton of women I've met online, but not IRL. Weird, eh?

3.) My hair, that was red all of my life, lost some of the red joie de vivre after my babies were born. So now, after tiring of hearing an annoying number of people in public say about Punkinhead, "Wow! were does he get that read hair from?" while I am STANDING. RIGHT. THERE, I enhance it with color from time to time. I was always identified as a redhead - It's who I am! I am not about to let motherhood take that from me!

4.) I was labeled "gifted" as a child with respect to IQ. I had a 12th grade reading ability in the 1st grade. I took a pre-SAT in junior high. I dumbed myself down in highschool though, as a means of social preservation. Now, I'm back to embracing my brains!

5.) All of my jobs after highschool have had some tie-in to the next subsequent job I held: In college, I worked as a student representative for the financial aid office at CSU. Which was excellent information for my next job as a case manager/housing coordinator at the mental health center helping people further themselves educationally/vocationally in the pursuit of self-sufficiency. Grants stuff I did at the mental health center is what landed me the job at the city, where my chief role is to assist in grant program administration. Finally, the homeless outreach experience I had at the mental health center plus my connections gained at Loveland are what landed me the coordinator position for the homeless count. And, it's all just happened this way - it is not at all as if I've planned it. God has though - I can definitely see it all in retrospect. Heck, I never in a million years would have guessed my psych degree would be inroads to a career in helping the homeless!

As for tagging others - if you want to be, consider yourself tagged. Elsewise, I'ma gonna go to bed. Nighty night.

LMNOB writes:

A week or so back ago, LMNOB got into my planner.  I’d forgotten about it until I opened to Wednesday so I could pen in a meeting.  On the daily notes side, she wrote:

 

We shod led _____ (insert LMNOB’s real name here)

wer hre

dressupdress

and ckraon nwae

and we shod

let _____ (insert LMNOB’s real name here)

wer ma

cup _____ (insert Punkinhead’s real name here)

shoad waur his sit shirt

and genne pansus.

 

Note the period at the end, but nowhere else!  LOL.

 

Now, for the “Only Mommy Knows” translation:

We should let LMNOB wear her dress-up dress and crown now – and we should let LMNOB wear makeup.  Punkinhead should wear his sit (?) shirt and green pants.

 

Oh, she’s trying so very hard.  Both at the writing and the getting of her own way! 

 

Totally brightened my day.  Kids can be funny.

I'm ok...he's ok...we're all ok??? Maybe?

For now, the moniker of poopy head has since been revoked and removed from Charlie Brown.

Note: I reserve the right to reclassify him as such at any given time though.

Last week was off to a rotten start since I last wrote. It's better now.......sort of.

On the marriage front, he's pulled his head out of his arse and started treating me with basic common courtesies, several times going above and beyond, even.

School front - still waiting on books, but I'll be burning the midnight oil this week. It's all good.

Kids - Li'l Punkinhead has been a joy this week. LMNOB, on the other hand, has been cause for some worries. She had two accidents at school. She's wetting the bed. And clinging to me with a fervor 100 times that of the infant separation anxiety.

Thing is, as CB points out, she's actually gotten more time with me than before, and by far better quality.

Nevertheless, I fear that I'm scarring her for life.

I was, and still am, certain that this is what God wants me to do.

But, I'm feeling a wee bit Abrahamic with respect to the whole child sacrifice thing. You know, do I sacrifice the well-being of my child for the will of God?

I love this little bundle of a girl who is all arts, questions, and, well, my mini-me in ALL respects. But I can't change those things I hate most about myself when they are in her. I can't tell her to buck up and play fair b/c Mommy needs a break. Especially when I'm not doing that myself.

It will work out though. I'm plugging into that eternal power supply that I've long been neglecting. This weekend, I'm in the gorgeous winter wonderland that is Estes Park with some sisters from church. Right now, I'm about to get to some homework, but wanted to check in and say that some things are looking up right now. And I'm blessed tremendously for that.

Now, jumping to a completely different subject:

Thursday I had to give a presentation to the Fort Collins Interfaith Council re: the Statewide Homeless Count and where the results are. I found out Tuesday from the State that the results are NOT in yet (despite 3 deadlines that have been given and not yet met). So I did the best I could. And it was wonderful. It's what I was made to do. Education and awareness is the part of Christ that I identify the most with, especially when it comes to loving our neighbors less fortunate and less accepted.

Afterward, my very gay friend from Northern Colorado AIDS project came up to me and questioned if I'd done something to my hair? Truth is, I haven't touched my hair with color or shears since Halloween - and I'm itching to get at it. I answered him and he told me, shaking his head in speculation, "Well, honey, there's something. I can't quite put my finger on it, but you are radiantly beautiful today - I mean you are always pretty and cute, but there's something different today. Hmmm..."

It's not so weird to have a gay man comment on the appearance of someone - positive or negative. But this was interesting to me, not to mention great for my self-esteem!

And then it happened again. This time, a woman from the United Way came up to me, thanked me for speaking for them, and pulled me aside. She tells me, "I know you were really busy this summer with the homeless count, and that you still must be with all that's going on in Loveland, but whatever you're doing, you are positively GLOWING today - you look so beautiful!"

I fought the urge to demur the compliment. I am a lot of things, but have never been one to associate the word "beautiful" with my outer appearance. I thanked her, and let the words soak in.

That was Thursday. And last night I spent with my sisters at church. Most of whom I feel well acquainted with, but not particularly close to. As the SAHM vs. WOHM discussion popped up, and the subtle favoring of the former choice was seen, some seeds of doubt were placed. And again that feeling of being different came when last night, some of the ladies gently poked fun at me and my usage of "big words." They were only teasing, and meant no offense, I know. But, I'm smart, can't help it - and by golly, I embrace that! To dumb myself down on purpose is to thumb God in the face and tell Him He wasted the talents He endowed upon me.

But, this morning, as I woke to the grandeur of the mountains, in all their God-given beauty, He spoke to my heart. That something that my colleagues saw - it wasn't me! It was the radiance of my Lord channeling through me, merely a vessel, saying, "Here is love. Draw near to it my friends. Draw near."

Abba...my abba, I am so grateful for the compass of hope that this message gives me. Help me to rise through the challenges. Grant me the Holy Spirit, and the strength promised me from Christ your Son. The harvest is plenty, but the workers are few. Show me how to be a good worker, Father. Thank you for your peace.

I feel like a ton has been lifted off of me.

It's like that pre-game rush...

For over a month now, I've had on my family calendar, work calendar, my planner, and just about any scratch piece of paper I could summon, that January 15th was an important date, above and beyond the observance of MLKJ's day:

It's game-on day. Tomorrow is the beginning of my steps toward an MPA. The steps which will lay the foundation of what I hope will be an effective career in serving the people.

And tonight was the pre-game pep talk - aka orientation.

Most of my degree will be earned via time spent on my newest toy ehm, educational investment. Sidebar: I love, love, LOVE my new notebook - new, as if I even had one before, lol. Ok-ay, I confess, I LOVE my first notebook with more ardor than I did my first boyfriend. But nevertheless, I'm being way tangential....er, uhm the point? Oh yes, the point being that tonight was new student orientation for all new GSPA students.

Saturday night, I'd had a bit of a freakout moment towards Charlie Brown. The age--old division of labor issue that frustrates the holy hades out of me = not so much a freakout, and a totally valid point, particularly when I'ma gonna need him to STEP it UP as I seek out this new adventure. The manner in which I handled myself = a faithless creature of fear, and also, completer freakout. We're better now.

Sunday, my pastor (sorry CoC readers who dislike that term, it is what he is) preached a sermon on being faithful to what God has called you to. And how, when it is what He wills for you, He can make all things possible! Oh, how I needed that reminder. I bolstered myself for this week with confidence in this basic tenet of my faith.

Today, I returned to work, and the craziness that this shelter has created. What a mess. But we waded through the follow-up and planning for the next few days.

At 3:30, I left to cruise south on I-25 to Denver.

My heart started thumping. Except for this time, unlike recent weeks, it didn't have that sick knot in my gut accompanying it.

This time, my heart was thumping, my bones singing. It was as if the skyscrapers were channeling energy directly into me as I entered the City. They were my "Friday Night Lights." I briefly thought back to my original version of "The Plan," and that urban connection. I smiled, and thought, "In another lifetime, perhaps that was right for me, but I'm where I need to be right now."

I felt peace. And joy.

I parked at the wrong part of campus in the midst of the excitement. Totally a Heather moment, that's for sure. Got to where I needed to be, signed in, and sat down with the other 30+ folks there to start the journey as well.

My to-be first instructor gave the introduction to the school, and referenced Martin Luther King Jr. and his life of service, how we were all striving to do the same thing, and make the world a better place.

And then I knew.

That buzz.

It's the same as when the player knows he's going to knock a homer out of the park. Everything's riding on it.

And now? I'm gleefully boasting my game face. Game's on

Oh, Holy !@#$%!@*&^ I want to say a LOT of bad words

As in, that is my coping method of choice when completely overwhelmed.

And it's not a bad overwhelmed feeling, it's just BUSY. WTH? Like there is a GOOD feeling of overwhelmed? I don't even make any sense.

This full-time gig is harder than I remembered. A bit easier since I'm not wearing two work-hats, but it's just..........gah.

And, oh, wait just a minute, because next week I'm adding graduate school into the mix? Am I freaking crazy???

Hey, don't anyone who knows about my depression issues answer that!

Tried and true....

(note: at first typing, I had a keyboardist Freudian slip and wrote "tired and true." yeah, well, it's not too far off the mark either)

Cliche' that it is...

If I'm not part of the solution, then I'm part of the problem.

Having had my own come to Jesus moment with this tidbit of veracity, I now want to bang everyone else over the head with it - er, that would defeat the purpose a wee bit, eh? Ok, I want to share it with everyone.

***
In my marriage, if I'm not part of the solution, I'm part of the problem. And, in dwelling upon all my hurts recently, I became part of the problem.

***
Note that this cliche' does not read, "Since I am part of the solution, I am the solution." Doesn't work that way - though wouldn't that be nice at times? ;-)

***
At our church lately, a lot of hurts have surfaced, and I'm reminded - as I watch people sit the fence about staying or going - of this cliche, and how both sides of the pettiness need to hear it.

***
With respect to needs of our communities, if I'm not part of the solution - the giving of time and money, support of education and awareness efforts, and a multitude of other things, then I'm part of the problem that continues to plague many of the hardworking Americans who live in poverty despite their best efforts.

***
Talk is cheap. It's the actions that solve things.

If I'm not acting on seeking a solution, them I'm part of the problem.

***
So, just how thin can I spread myself Lord? There's a lot I'd love to see fixed.

Arbitrary Numbers and the Damage They Can Do

It's funny how people feel like they are experts on things that they really don't know a lick about.

After Christmas, Charlie Brown's dad took us out for breakfast the morning we left town. Somehow, the talk at the table turned to my work. I related a story about a man in Loveland who meant well, but was fast making enemies with the City leaders. He'd demanded an inclement weather shelter be designated for the city's homeless - oh, and it needed to be up and running within 12 hours of his request as there was a storm moving through. And, he was somewhat hostile. And he kept running his mouth and ending up in the paper. I told of how I totally agreed with the man's concerns, but was frustrated. Where was he when I was working this summer for the homeless count? And, perhaps, if he knew of my involvement with that project, along with my past work experience, he might see me as an ally instead as an enemy. The bottom line was that I am a municipal employee, though, and not an elected official with the capacity to make these types of calls.

And then he said it.

My father-in-law said what several of my good intentioned, upstanding, fine, but altogether ignorant community members have echoed:

"Well, and then there's the fact that 95% of the homeless are in that situation by choice."

(emphasis is mine, not his)

My hackles went up as I heard arbitrary misinformation being presented as fact. I'd kept my mouth shut over the long holiday weekend as politics came up at the dinner table and my brother-in-law had said to my more liberal understanding, "That's just ridiculous." But, you know, copier techs know everything about the cost-savings of preventive programs, so I let it go. This, on the other hand, I was not going to let go, regardless of the Meyer male ego that tends to flare up angrily when being called out.

"So, uhm, did you just say what I think you did?" My question was accompanied by an expectant look, which inspired back tracking. Charlie Brown shifted, uncomfortably, in his seat.

"Well, in my opinion - you know there are a lot of people..."

"In your opinion, it's a fact that 95% of homeless people choose to be so? What's your basis? And tell me, just how many homeless people have you actually known to be able to make such a determination? We'll see what the hard numbers say when the count is published. In the meantime, let me just say that my professional experience with homeless people has shown me just the opposite. Even among the chronic homeless I worked with, none of them WANT to be out in the elements, or in the shelters. Some have mental illness so severe, they are not even capable of choosing a lifestyle. Some don't know that there's an alternate choice to be had. But even then, they are the minority. The majority of homeless people are families with children and most of the time, you can't even tell they are homeless."

And, what I desperately wanted to say, but didn't: You are an expert of cars and body work- why don't you stick to that, and quit muddying the public perception of social issues?

That is not to say that I have all the answers - heck, I don't even know if I have some of the answers to our social problems. But, I'm schooled in dealing with them, I work on the frontlines with them, and am a critical thinker about them - versus accepting spoonfed stereotypes into my mind.

Part of this problem is that he wasn't hearing me. Instead of hearing my agreement, albeit with many frustrations, my father-in-law heard a me versus him kind of story, and was trying to show me his support. I get that.

And, people think they know. They want to be right, because their ideas make it easier for them to accept that they maybe aren't doing all that they could to help, and because, the real realites are very painful to face.

But folks, arbitrary numbers do nothing but lend credibility to, and further establish, stereotypes. And that's not good. Not good at all.

So, here are some real numbers. More will come later this month.

Preliminary findings on the Colorado Statewide Homeless Count say that at a minimum, 11,890 homeless persons live in the state.

60% of them are families with children. This translates to 7,134 men, women and children. SIXTY percent! This means that the stereotype of a single man or woman is the exception to the rule of majorities.

25% of these people are experiencing homelessness for the first time. Translated, 2,972+ people are in a situation they have never before had to deal with. Anecdotally, a lot of the service agencies I work with report that this group of people is not only homeless for the first time, but now"low-income" for the first time, thanks to layoffs in recent years, and not at all familiar with assistance programs and local resources. In addition to this inability to navigate "the system," there's a strong disdain for it, and people in this group are waiting until their lives have completely unraveled before seeking help.

Hmm....that could be little-ole-now-upper-middle-class me/(insert someone you know here).

Not exactly the face you pictured, now is it?

Catching up, via a bulleted list

Gosh, it's been a crazy two weeks.

A LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONGGG 2 weeks.

• The Blizzard, part one and part two snowed us in before and after Christmas. We were able to get home for the holiday, which was nice, but the kids being out of their routines was stress enough - add cabin fever, and well, egads. I am reminded as to why I am not a good SAHMommy - edited to add: and thus, am a responsible parent by working out of the home so that the kids get a good Mama! Round three is around tomorrow's corner, apparently. Oh. Joy

• Meanwhile - Christmas happened. I was not really in the spirit this year. AT ALL. And then....well, to make a long story short, husbands take note: white elephant/gag gifts to your spouse are not necessarily appreciated when they are not expecting them - as opposed to the normal, more thoughtful gift(s) - especially when they have been hyped up to believe said gift is "so awesome it will make you cry," for days on end, or when this gift has a sentimental, sappy card affixed to it, that is nothing more than a huge set-up....And, this lack of appreciation is not indicative that your spouse needs a sense of humor, either. That's all I'ma gonna say..

• I'd scheduled last week off, as "vacation." Picture me laughing out loud like an idiot dribbling my finger in my mouth. I may as well have booked a trip to HELL. Serious. I LOVE my darlings. When they are in their grooves. When I'm in my groove. When the status quo of activitiy is interrupted, my kids go temporarily insane - and the cabin fever, which was merely icing on this cake of madness (departing from routine), is all the City's fault! Not really, but it seems like everyone expects the surrounding municipal governments to dig everyone out - they're doing what they can without our property/sales/luxury/pull-money-out-of-thin-air taxes going thru the roof. Get out and be a Rambo like Charlie Brown...then you can get out! At one point I was walking around the house, going, "Loud noises!" and covering my ears like the weirdo dude in Anchor Man. And, since I was snowed out of 3 days the week prior to my "vacation," I was totally tempted to cut my vacation short and return to work and get some of the more pressing things done - merely as a means of being able to hear myself think. But I didn't, b/c arranging childcare that I'd already cancelled would be a PITA.

• I came back to work, with my new FULL-TIME status, on Tuesday. And catch-up has been a bee-atch. But I'm totally glad for it, that's a craziness I can handle! Today I got lots of stuff done.

• My award luncheon got rescheduled for MIL's b'day. Which since none of you know her, is February 21st. And since it is a week after V-day, they are theming it a "Hearts for Housing" luncheon, since winter holidays are no longer the fitting seasonal theme. Cute. And, who knows, maybe it'll be 75 degrees in February?

• School starts in less than 2 weeks. I'm getting scared. Now it is sinking in - how will I do it all??? There's a reason everyone is asking me that question. But, I'm still putting on the Li'l Engine That Could game-face: I think I can, I think I can....Edited to add: prayers always welcome!

• Since my new d/c gal/neighbor is has been out of the country, I've been able to utilize the hired help of a woman from church. I'm thanking God that I landed her versus a college student/teen - no offense to my younger readers. But seriously - my experience with the younger girls is that the kids are fine, great even, but 99.9% of the time, my house, is not even bordering fine when I return. Thus, the whole purpose of a babysitter (making life easier) is lost, when the time deficit earned by the household mess I now have to clean is greater than the savings. But I digress....thanking God, right? Yes.....L is a dream! The dishes she and Punkinhead use during the day are always clean. My laundry that is in the dryer is always folded! Laundry that is not in the washer magically appears and keeps me caught up. Glory hallelujah - I'm so NOT being facetious - the woman is worth her weight and then some in GOLD.

• And, last but not least, going on the ~100 years lifespan premise, I am in what I've coined my 1/3rd life crisis. Not mid-life, since I'm only roughly one-third through it. Who am I? Who was I? Who do I still want to be? Who have I decided not to be? When I get all the who's figured out, then I have the what's and how's to tackle. What does that mean? How do I get to be that who? What parts of my life can I look at as if it were advice, and take the good but leave the rest? What parts of my life do I need to totally cut out? What parts of my life do I need to remodel? And just how in the hell do I go about doing all of this? It sounds dramatic - like I need a crisis to be. I don't want that to be the case - fervently and feverishly, I do not want to be the over-emotional nut job. And at the same time, it is dramatic. After all, I've only MAYBE got 2/3rds of this life left to live - who needs the process of figuring it out?? I want the life of having it figured out, ya know?

AAAAAAAAHHH!! I'm hemhorraging!

LOL, not really......but I've always loved that scene in My Girl where Vada gets her first period and that's her reaction. Gotcha.

It is that time for me though. And it is quite profuse and as a result, quite disgusting. Gotta love being a woman, eh?

For those of you who think it's crude and vulgar to discuss such delicate things out in the open like this, that big red x at the top right of your screen? Yeah, you might just go use it.

My blog about my life = subject matter that matters to me. Don't like? Then buh-bye.