Hanging By a Thread

Happy New Year {Happy New Word}

Well, the tree is down, and we've eaten our lucky black-eyed peas, let the new year commence!

It is with mixed feelings that I say farewell to 2018. It was an excellent year for my family. Oh, there are always hiccups and snags, but for the most part we were "healthy and wealthy and wise" as the saying goes, even if we weren't all "early to bed and early to rise." We took some splendid trips in 2018 that entertained, educated and enlightened us. We held each other and friends and family and hope and faith near to our hearts. Yes, for us, it was a good year.

However, for so many in this world, it was a difficult year. And for those who hurt and struggled and fought hard to survive and mourned those who did not make it to 2019, I am glad to close the door on 2018 with hope and faith that 2019 will usher in a new era of peace and compassion and mercy and justice.

Each year, for the past 6 or 7 years or so, I have tried to choose a word for the coming year…except I don't actually choose it, I let the word come to me and choose me. Sometimes it is very apparent and other years it takes days of listening and looking for my word to appear.

The other day, I read something someone had shared on Facebook. The blurb was actually about grief, but there was something that spoke to me in this passage that was beyond grief and really applied to everything in life. It stuck with me for days, and I realized this was my word. The word is "And." Yes, the tiny, simple, almost invisible, and completely necessary and useful "and."

And as in: I love my kids, AND I hate their bickering and whining.

And as in: I love coffee, AND I love tea.

And as in: I love my country, AND I abhor the current administration.

And as in: I love Ryan Gosling, Bradley Cooper, Brad Pitt, AND I love my husband.

And as in: I love the beauty of a Minnesota winter, AND I struggle with the dark and dreary days.

And as in: I enjoy going out to a movie or dinner or performance or see friends, AND I am completely happy to stay at home and read a book or watch a movie or cook in my kitchen.

Well, you get the idea.

With the word "and" I can often eliminate "but." "But" is a limiting word. It's a choose-one-side-or-the-other-kind of word. It's an isolating word.

"And" is an inclusive word. It doesn't make you choose. With this word, I can have it both ways. It allows for more shades of gray (in a good way). "And" is not a black and white word. "And" brings us together. "And" recognizes that things can be difficult/dark/stinky/murky and hopeful/happy/optimistic/clear.

So, I am embracing the possibilities of AND! It will take some practice to remember to insert "AND" instead of "BUT" and I'm up for the challenge! {see what I did there}

What's your word for 2019? Happy New Year! Over and out…

Anna

*Photo by the lovely AND fantastic AND fun erin and i photography! Check them out at Erinandiphotography.pixieset.com.

Being Thankful

Being Thankful is a state of mind. The feeling of gratitude is something I strive to think of and live out daily. There are certainly days that I feel other things much more than I feel thankful or grateful, but it takes diligence and resilience to continually feel thankful. It's a work in progress. I have come to see that being thankful has nothing to do with what one has or has not.

When I was younger, I was not aware or conscious of feeling thankful for things or people or feelings or places. As I have aged with time and experiences, I have grown more acutely aware of privilege and grace and mercy and kindness and luck showered upon me. And I have become more thankful for the things that make my life easier, happier, safer, etc. I have become more grateful to all the people (and animals) who are here to stay, those who are here for a chapter or two and those who merely cross paths with me. I have become more appreciative of natural beauty: the sky completely slays me every day, all day with its ever changing hues and patterns and movement; beaches, mountains, rivers, forests, waterfalls, the sun bathing the downtown skyline in gold, a fresh snowfall, the unbelievable colors of fall, the new green of spring and full out verdant beauty of summer leave me completely humbled.

When I was younger, I was bashful and shy and self-conscious, and I worried about what people would think if I danced or cried or sang out loudly. As the years tumble by, I care less and less what others think about anything I do. And for that I am truly thankful. It is liberating to be at peace with oneself.

On Thanksgiving, it is easy to get caught up thinking about the turkey and all the trimmings and the table settings and what time the guests are arriving; with shopping and making Christmas lists and when the tree is going up; with cleanup and putting away the extra table and chairs and taking down the fall decorations, but what I will be trying to settle my thoughts on is how absolutely, truly, completely thankful I am that I was born in a free country, to free, privileged, educated, good, fair, loving, caring parents and have been handed a multitude of opportunities and blessings and privileges and been loved and taken care of by so many people throughout my life.

Life is never free from all pain, trouble, cloudy skies, detours or dead ends, but that doesn't mean there isn't anything to be grateful for. It could always be worse. And that alone is reason to be thankful. Look for the good, the bright, the warm, the cozy, the kind, the beautiful, the half full or at the very least not completely empty.

May each and every one of you have much on your list to be thankful for on Thanksgiving and each day of the year. Peace and safe passages to you and yours!

Anna

Agreeing to Disagree

I am the first to stand up for our right to free speech. I am accepting (not simply tolerant) of those from other countries, other religions, other parts of our country, different colors of skin, any sexual orientation or gender, other political parties and backgrounds. Not only am I accepting of these things, I think it makes life, our country, our world a better place with all of this diversity in it.

I try not to assume, but to ask questions instead. I try to be respectful and not lose patience with certain points of view. I do try…even if I am not always successful.

However, it's no longer enough to say "Hey, we are all entitled to our own opinions." "We can agree to disagree." "That's the great thing about the country, we don't all have to agree." "Where's the respect?"

But I am certainly not advocating for name calling or ugliness.

What I am clumsily trying to say is that there is a difference between disagreeing about whether to spend more on infrastructure which would raise taxes and disagreeing about whether it is acceptable for our president to tell blatant lies (repeatedly) and call people ugly, rude names and treat them like dirt any time anyone does not agree with him or dares to ask questions of him (or any of the MANY other things he does that is questionable, out-of-line or even against the constitution, a policy or law).

This is simply a very limited example of what I am addressing.

The difference between these two examples and agreeing to disagree is that regarding government spending there are (at least) two arguments to be made in debating and deciding what is best for our people and the country and the budget, and we can respect each of the positions made.

In the instance of our president telling lies (that can be easily checked to determine what the truth is), making up things that don't exist and calling people names and being really ugly to those who disagree with him and ask questions of him, there is never a time his behavior should be acceptable as the president of the United States of America. There are not two arguments to be made. There are not two sides to this coin. Period.

Your opinion on areas like taxes, military engagement, use of our land, environmental issues, health care, etc., are welcome and we can agree to disagree if that is how we end up. Again, these are normal political issues with multiple positions and considerations.

Telling lies, being verbally abusive and generally rude and ugly and throwing around one's weight for the sake of power are not political issues. We, as Americans with a democratic government, should never accept a leader who acts this way. NEVER!

{Warning: this is where my husband, Will, would like this post to end. Continue reading if you want my version of the ending.}

So, when it comes to agreeing to disagree or backing down from taking a stand or taking flak for not being respectful to the president or to others in ELECTED offices, I will not just get over it or be nice or take off the gloves. The liberal/broad-minded people have done that for far too long. That is why it's so shocking to the conservative/narrow-minded folks. The left wing is refusing to stand quietly in the corner while the right wing shouts down from their pedestal demanding respect and tolerance and religious freedom…based on their own narrowly drawn definitions….all while standing with a man who bows down to the golden calf and worships at the temple of greed and lust, throwing anyone who dares to stand in his way into the pit with the lions.

So, I am finished tiptoeing around, wearing the gloves to deal a soft blow or pretending I'm OK with someone's position to agree to disagree about how we treat people in this country. I will not call you names. I will not threaten you. I will not be apologetic for my position. I will not back down or shut up. I will not stop.

I will take a strong position. I will use my voice. I will call you out for your ignorance, if necessary. I will further explain my stance, if needed. I will agree to disagree on the political issues. Over and out…

Anna

Let Me Explain… #Misunderstood

I read a lot of news articles from a number of sources. I also share a lot of news articles. Most of what I post and share goes almost completely unnoticed, with the exception of the handful of like-minded Facebook friends who usually agree with me. Every once in a while, I strike a nerve. When I do, they are almost always Texans. I don't know if it is because they expect all Texans to think alike or that they just happen to notice a post every once in a while and then others see that they have noticed and jump on board too. Either way, each time, it costs me some "friends." But heck, I think that means we weren't really friends in the first place.

Regardless, I have been unclear in a Facebook post and I upset some people, and I decided I needed a space to be able to expand my thoughts and be clearer. My intention was not to upset people, not to put them on the defensive, but to help people to expand their views and open up their minds and worlds to see a bigger picture. I, at least partially, failed in doing this.

Here is what I shared.

"And Christians wonder why so many people are leaving religion. We, the Christians, often seem to be quite the hypocrites...for a great many years now, really. For this (erring human, who often falls short, but is always striving to be more like Jesus) Christian, it makes me very sad and angry. In my humble opinion, you can't support the Trump administration and all his minions and be a Christian. He goes against all tenets of Christianity. TO CLARIFY: I am making the point that in my opinion, you cannot both stand with Trump & his cronies & stand for Christian beliefs. I am sorry if you cannot see this point."

(The meme shared shows a family with the dad with an open Bible on his lap. The son says, "So if the Bible says we should help the poor, welcome the foreigner, heal the sick, respect others, not lie, not commit adultery, and not steal, then why do we support Donald Trump? And dad replies, "Oh, Billy. We don't actually practice these things. We only preach them.")    

The response I got from some, all of them related to me in some way, hurt my heart and made me realize how very far apart our views are, which is frustrating and confusing and very sad to me. Let me explain.

To begin with, here is a bit about me and what makes me tick because it is clear to me some friends and family may not understand me.

I feel things very deeply and passionately, all the way through me from my head to my toes. I have an unshakeable faith in my God and in the principles of Christianity. I am very loyal, and I will always do what I can when someone needs something. I wholeheartedly love my family, both near and far. I am sensitive, but tough. I will not back down from an argument or stance that I feel is important and true. I have an abiding sense of justice and what is right and wrong. I will engage with strangers if I think they are doing wrong and need correcting or calling out. I talk a lot sometimes, but I need silence and solitude and time alone to think, to be, to re-charge. Music and movies and animals and loss, whether mine or someone else's make me cry. My heart often trumps my head, even when I know better. I pray continually, all through the day.

I am also deeply political, meaning that I stay apprised of what the issues are and what is happening with our government policies and the overall attitude of all three branches of government. I feel very strongly about my duty and responsibility as a citizen of this country to be aware of what is happening in Washington, D.C., etc.

I like balance. I need to be able to reconcile where people stand with their beliefs and who they support. I need to be able to find reason for why things happen. I like to be in control of my surroundings, or at least in control of myself within my surroundings.

I seek beauty in all things, and I find it…in nature, in art, in stories, in music, in people. And I often take pictures of it or paint it or write about it.

I do not wish to condemn or judge. I wish to broaden worlds and minds and educate in all things in all ways.

I am profoundly hurt when I am misunderstood by people who I thought knew me and my heart. I have high expectations of people, and I don't allow all people to really get to know me. When I do, I feel very let down when they misinterpret my actions or words or do not support me in my endeavors. People often let me down. I suppose this is because I am rarely ever truly understood or truly known. And that really hurts.

So, short story long, it appears…this is who I am.

Now, what I meant when I shared the above or what I mean when I share other similar things is this: I cannot reconcile how someone who loves God and follows the tenets of Christianity can possibly support the hate-filled, fear mongering, abusive and divisive words and policies and lies of our current administration and the politicians who follow and enable it.

What I mean to say is: how can you support a president who uses such ugly words against and to describe women (or objects to be grabbed and used); who calls other politicians who fail to agree with him names and respects no one?

What I mean to say is: how can you stand beside this man whose policy – yes, his policy (do your homework) separates children from their parents. These are parents who seek a better, safer life for their children. Would you not do the same in their position? I really hope you would.

What I mean to say is: how can you stand with someone who wants to discriminate against people who are different than say a white, privileged, heterosexual male?

What I mean to say is: how can you stand with someone who simply lies because the truth just does not matter, or he doesn't know the difference between the truth and a lie or just doesn't care whether what he says is true? Honestly, I don't know why he does it, but it does not matter why. He lies. That is all that one needs to know.

What I mean to say is: how can you support someone who calls himself a nationalist? In case you don't know, the term nationalism, based on a dictionary definition means: an extreme form of patriotism, especially marked by a feeling of superiority of other nations. Nazis were considered nationalists, as an, albeit extreme, example. Now, white nationalists are neo Nazis and KKK members. There is a difference, but honestly, when Trump said that he was a nationalist just this week in Houston, I am not sure if he was pandering to extreme patriots or those who hate people of color. Either way, how can you stand with this man?

I think that conservative/Republican America has underestimated the sadness, the fear, the anger and the depth of feelings that liberal/Democrat America has involving this administration. There is a deeper divide in our country than there has been in a great while.

What I mean to say is that how can you stand along side a man who seeks to destroy our entire institution of democratic government?

If you stand on your religion as your base, and hold tight to abortion issues and gay rights issues, you need to broaden your knowledge of issues concerning this country. First of all, this administration does not care about your religion, not one iota. Secondly, I recognize there is no point for me to try to convince you that abortion will not go away if it is illegal, but that women (and fetuses) will die in desperation, doing whatever they can to obtain an abortion, legal or not. And on top of that, abortion numbers have been going down and down and down for years, but I won't argue with you about that. Thirdly, LGBTQIA rights really don't concern you unless you fall into those categories, but as a religious person, I believe you should seek to love all people and treat them with kindness and mercy. Remember God loves all people and does not make mistakes. They and you will be judged one day, but you don't have to worry about them.

So, what I mean to say is this. If I struck a nerve with this post, maybe it's is because you realized you don't know that much about the policies and stances of this administration and you need to learn more. Or perhaps you realized you need to change your ways or maybe you just don't know me very well and you should ask me to explain what I mean.

I am open to discussions, but the comments made it clear that my point had been missed. I am not sure if it is possible for the veil that divides our thoughts and stances on this administration to be lifted so that your eyes can be opened to why I feel the way I do or how I hear and see what is happening or vice versa (because I do not understand how anyone still supports this man and his regime).

I don't want to give up on you, and I don't want you to give up on me. However, I do want you to understand that to me these issues I discussed are not just passing political rhetoric, but are fundamental principles on how people should treat other people and how we should approach our world, our country, our neighbors.

This is why my heart hurts so much. I see that there are so many people I love and care about and admire and trust that are blind to the greed, the hate, the lies, the fear being instilled in them every day by this administration and its minions, including FOX news. And I don't seem to be able to reach these people. And yet, if you need me, I will be here. I will not stop loving you. I will not stop being loyal. I will not stop standing up for what I believe is true. I will not stop praying for you, our nation and its leaders. I will not be silent. I will not stop attempting to broaden minds and attitudes.

If after all this explanation and look into my head and heart, you cannot see me for who and what I am and stand for, perhaps you might think to yourself, "I should try to get to know her better to understand her more." Of course, you might also think, "I don't care what she thinks or how she feels." And that's fine too. It's up to you.

This is who I am. Peace to you. Over and out…

Anna

For the Love of My Children

Here's what I know. Nothing is for sure. Everything can change. We are no better than any other country. Our country and its government are not at its most stable and certainly not at its most proud moment in history. Jesus Christ instructs us to love and show kindness and mercy and aid to all people.

I also know deep down to the core of my existence that I will do anything to keep my children safe and healthy. ANYTHING. If that means leaving everything I know behind and trekking across countries, mile after mile, to seek asylum from dangerous people and conditions, I would do it. It would be scary and painful and confusing. It would take immense faith and strength and patience and courage. But it would all be worth it if I knew in my heart of hearts that it was the best…maybe the ONLY…option for keeping my children safe, and I would do it.

I hope you would too.

I think you would.

I bet you love your children as much as I love mine.

So, WHY OH WHY, is this so hard for so many people to understand the plight of these people pouring into the borders after making the very long and difficult trek from their dangerous and unstable homelands?

And how is it possible that not ALL moms and dads (or really ALL people) in the U.S. are not completely outraged at the separation of children and parents and detaining of those seeking asylum at the border. {I do realize that the separation has supposedly stopped, but there are still scores of families who are separated and children facing judges alone.}

These children and parents keep me up at night and fill my prayers and consume my thoughts. The whole of it breaks my heart and makes my blood boil.

And it hurts my heart that I don't see and hear every person in this country in an uproar by all of this purposeful breaking up of families already in peril and in need of love, support and aid.

I realize immigration is a complex issue, but accepting refugees and immigrants into these borders since even before our founding is what has made our country so strong and complex and vibrant and full of innovation and creative spirit and thriving cities and farmlands and communities of all sizes from border to border.

And if one can't see that, then you need to go back to the beginning of U.S. history and study how and why our country came to be. Include in that history how the early settlers disregarded those borders and lands of the people who were already living here, eventually completely disregarding the people too and not just their territories.

Don't forget to read about how we rounded up and kept fenced in the Japanese Americans {mind you, they were American citizens} when we went to war against Japan during WWII.

Of course, a large portion of our history should cover our forefathers, the slaveholders, and the treatment of the Africans kidnapped from their own countries and taken from their own borders and forced into ours. Go on through the Civil War and remember to take special note as to why brothers fought brothers during this most terrible war {Hint: it wasn't merely state's rights; it was really concerning one right: the right to own another human being.}

Look at how we treated the freed slaves and how LONG it took for us to pass laws that made our laws apply to all people within our borders, including African Americans, women, Native Americans and LGBTQ folks.

Make sure to read about all the different points in our history that various groups of immigrants sought refuge through our ports. Of course, each of us have a personal family history to learn from, as well.

After all of the reading and studying and researching to learn and remind and open your heart and mind, I hope you will see how very abundantly we, as a country, have been blessed by all of these cultures and histories and ethnicities blending and sharing and building into one United States of America.

BUT in the end, this particular situation comes back to the only thing that matters right now. Families seeking asylum are being turned away or separated and jailed. This is not right.

I want you to take a minute to realize that this could happen to you. It could. Our country could slide into complete chaos. We could fight a war on our soil. We could become the ones in need of protection and need to leave our country and enter another country's border. Don't kid yourself.

If you can't bring yourself to imagine a bleak U.S. future, then recall that by the grace of God you were born into a free country or had the good fortune to be able to come to this country and become a citizen; that parents in all countries all over God's green earth love their children so much that they would do ANYTHING to protect them; that sometimes you have to risk everything to keep your kids safe, even if that means breaking the law and entering a border illegally, in order to get help and make a new start; that Jesus would help these people and calls upon us to do the same; and that Joseph, Mary and Jesus once were refugees in Egypt, fleeing Herod's murderous rampage inflicted upon young children.

You might be asking yourself, "A bleeding heart liberal and a Christian? Can it be possible?" Oh, yes! Take heart; there are a number of us out there. I'm proud to wear both badges.

If when I die, people say that I stood for love and mercy and justice and always stood up for those who could not speak up for themselves, then I will feel that I have accomplished something in my life.

If you feel so inclined to do something for these families, please check out Raices Texas – pronounced Rah E Cis – standing for Refugee and Immigrant Center for Education. They are a Texas nonprofit organization that works to pair immigration attorneys with the parents and kids in custody, pays for their bonds and is working hard to reunify families and pursue asylum, when necessary.

Over and out…

Anna

The Importance of Graphic Novels {yet another way in which reading challenged kids are failed in our school systems}

Hey there….it's been a while….and I am bubbling over with all kinds of things I'd like to share, discuss, argue about, etc. and I'm starting with this…

Back in May, the boys and I were at a Scholastic book fair at a public elementary school. We never turn down a chance to find new books to read and call our own. My younger son was looking for a particular Scholastic graphic novel that he'd seen elsewhere, but thought they might have it at the book fair for a cheaper price. I asked my friend, who happened to be working the book fair, if they had the graphic novel. She told me no, they didn't order many graphic novels because they encouraged the kids to choose other {basically, more substantive} books to read. At these book fairs, each student at this school gets a free book to take home, and she told me that they don't allow them to choose a graphic novel for their free book.

It was at this moment that I realized I had a passion for the IMPORTANCE OF GRAPHIC NOVELS! Don't worry, I am about to expand your world with my passion!

Let me remind you that both of my boys are dyslexic. Let me further remind you, or inform you, that it is estimated that 1 in 10 people have dyslexia. Additionally, it is estimated that 40 million adults have dyslexia and only 2 million know it.

So what do these statistics mean and what do they have to do with graphic novels? Well, these stats mean there are a great number of kids and adults who really struggle to read and spell and don't know why. Often, kids {who then grow into adults} start to think they can't read or read well because they are dumb and they lose confidence in themselves.

Let me pause here to clarify that dyslexia has NOTHING to do with IQ. In fact, often people with dyslexia have extremely high IQs and are gifted in a number of areas and are highly creative, innovative thinkers and quite entertaining. Simply put dyslexia is a neurological condition caused by a different wiring of the brain.

And so, when it comes to books and reading, people with dyslexia greatly struggle, especially those who have not yet been or never are diagnosed with dyslexia.

Now, to the graphic novels…

When my sons were struggling to read, both before and in the early days of being diagnosed as dyslexic, they had a hard time finding books they could read that were of interest to them. That is to say, if one is reading at a significantly lower level than others in that child's grade/age level, one will often find that the topics covered in books they can read or kind of read are topics below their maturity/interest level.

BUT graphic novels cover many reading levels and many categories. To illustrate, my older son, who is entering 7^th grade and now reads at a 12^th grade level thanks to Wilson Reading System, reads all kinds of chapter books, but still really loves a good graphic novel. His favorites cover historical periods. He is currently reading one on Alexander Hamilton. There are graphic novels that are specifically for adults, not kids, due to the topic/graphic nature just as there are graphic novels for 3^rd graders, 5^th graders, middle schoolers and high schoolers.

Thus, graphic novels are for everyone. They do have fewer words than chapter books, but still pack the punch of a chapter book and can be quite entertaining, educational and still a lot of work to get through if you are a poor reader. But these types of books enable those poor readers to get through a book (a book with a topic they are interested in), build confidence and not look like the class dummy reading a book about ducks that is meant for 1^st graders when they're in 5^th grade. Or alternatively, these kids who are, for whatever reason, poor readers in order to not be embarrassed pick out a book that they will never be able to get through, but their buddies got this book, it's at their grade level and so they get it and it sits unread in the bottom of a drawer.

I, for one, would rather see a kid reading graphic novels with far fewer words than a chapter book than to just not read at all.

And those parents/teachers who made that decision to not order many graphic novels or let students choose a graphic novel for their free book, CLEARLY have never sat and cried with their child as they struggle to get through a simple sheet of the alphabet or read just a few pages of a VERY simple book. Once again, the public school system has let down these undiagnosed or more than likely just ignored children challenged with dyslexia or other learning challenges that make reading a difficult task for them.

Graphic novels are creative and interesting and artistic, and this household is a great fan of them. However, until my friend made that statement at the book fair, I had no idea how very important graphic novels were to me.

In my opinion, teachers should be using them a great deal with reading challenged kids. It has been the jumping off point for many fascinating historical and literary discussions with my kids. Not only do they really get into these types of books, they also write and create their own too. Graphic novels are full of potential…just as these amazing kids are!

Are graphic novels the answer to dyslexia and other reading challenges? Of course not, but they are an aid for building self-confidence and a boost along the way to {perhaps} an eventual love of reading. The answer for kids who struggle to read is early detection and a massive, across the board, change in how we, in our country, teach kids how to read. It is all quite doable, but are our public school systems willing to make these changes?

Over and out….

Anna

 

This is 42

Today marks my 42^nd year.

I'm not sure what to think of where I'm going or where I've been, but I know who I am and what I stand for and I'm not afraid to speak my mind when so inclined to do so.

I am so grateful to have made it this far along the road of life. At this time of year, I think of the friends and family who did not get to this point and I'm reminded of what a gift each day of life is.

But how easily I can forget this when I'm frustrated by my kids and their messy room and their sharp, sassy retorts and their disagreements over what's being served at mealtime and their sibling arguing or when I'm harried by a work deadline and the need to run to get groceries and make dinner and plan out school lessons and get kids to bed or when I'm feeling unlucky or unfortunate.

So, today (and for the next few days) it's my goal to remember this and go out and enjoy the gift of life with some of my favorite people and do some of my favorite things. I really do love my birthday. It's always so beautiful with the fall colors and crisp, cool air. You can be sure there will be plenty of chocolate and fall leaves and apples and pumpkins and laughing…lots of laughing.

This past year has been a good one, filled with travel and family and friends.

May the coming year bring me opportunities to serve those in need, travel with my family and see my friends more often. My birthday wish is to focus on writing again and spend more time drawing and keep traveling and exploring.

I have lots of gray hairs on my head. My joints hurt sometimes. I can't go without sleep as much as I used to. I have some wrinkles on my face. But all that's ok because that's all part of growing older and living life. And I'm trying to soak up as much living as I can. This is 42. Happy Birthday to me. Over and out…

Anna

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Be a Tree

One More Opinion Re: Bathrooms and Policies

There has been a lot of discussion on Target's bathroom policy regarding transgender persons. I, myself, am baffled by why this is an issue that Target thought they needed to address. I think people can and have been deciding which bathroom is the right one for them without an official policy announcement.

Target is not the only company who has such a policy that basically says people can use the bathroom that best aligns with the gender they identify themselves as, but by making a formal announcement of this policy they have grabbed the attention of folks who, in the name of protecting Christian values and the sanctity of the family, choose to prey on people's fears of those who are different from themselves and create a culture of hate.

I am pretty sure that we have all been using public bathrooms alongside transgender persons for many, many years. Their use of the public restrooms has not created a danger for women and children (this is the group of people these "Christian Family" groups say they are worried about) any more than using public facilities with any strangers does.

Which brings me to something I have been thinking of lately regarding public bathrooms, having just returned from a weeklong trip to Washington D.C. with my two boys, ages 7 & 9 , and my mother. I, as a female with two boys, worry about bathroom situations every time we are out in public without my husband to go with the boys to the men's bathroom. My boys are getting too old to accompany me into the women's bathroom and yet I do worry about sending them into the men's bathroom alone, not knowing who is in there, the setup of the facilities, the condition of the facilities. When I do send them into a men's bathroom (always the two boys together) I stand VERY near the door and tell them to scream if ANYTHING happens that makes them feel uncomfortable and I'll be there immediately.

These days there is often a family/companion care bathroom available, which is always a relief to me. And I am sure this is also a relief to those who are transgender or don't in some way identify with their gender as we as a society identify such gender.

However, I will say that in certain settings or situations I do bring my boys into the women's bathroom with me. I do this prepared to tell anyone who dares challenge me to mind her own business. No one has ever said a word to me, but I'm always prepared.

Recently my 9 year old was feeling sick while we were out and the only bathroom options were men and women. I was not going to send my son into the men's room when he was sick where I couldn't get to him. We went into the women's bathroom together where I was able to be there with him and help him.

No matter what society says about what we should be doing and how we should be acting, I am a mother first, and I will do what is safest and best for my kids in any situation. However, the real or perceived dangers of a child using a public bathroom without a parent there have always been the same. This policy is not changing the possible threat involved.

So, when these "Christian Family" organizations say, "oh no, we can't let transgender people use the bathroom with US!" And then make people believe that on top of having to worry about transgender persons, this policy will also open the door, literally and figuratively, to people with evil intentions, red flags go up for me. These organizations are Christian in name only. Don't be fooled.

Christ did all things in love and embraced all people, regardless of whether they were sinners or saints, believers or nonbelievers, rich or poor, men or women. We, as Christians, are called to do the same. But these organizations, besides casting a false light on Christ Jesus, are breeding a culture of fear and hate and an Us v. Them attitude.

I would argue that people who intend to commit evil acts don't need a policy in place to perpetrate these crimes. There are bad people out there. Period. And we need to be alert, aware and careful in all situations. True. But I don't think that this policy announcement has increased that threat to women and children. It may, however, have increased the threat to those who are hated and feared because of their differences.

The argument addressed by the American Family Association reminds me of another time; one from not so long ago when in the south there were separate bathrooms for blacks and whites, in addition to separate restaurants, drinking fountains, seating, churches, schools, etc. The white "Christian" men made these rules and laws and drew these lines out of fear and hate, but said it would protect their families and was the right thing to do. Well, thankfully, those laws and rules and way of thinking (for the most part) have been struck down and we see how ridiculous and hate-filled these policies from the past were.

When I read about boycotts and policies and arguments brought forth from these "Christian Family" organizations I see hate and fear and narrow mindedness brought about by ignorance and reliance on people who call themselves good Christian family men and women. I come from Texas and I call myself Christian, and I know and love many people who unwittingly fall for these ruses promoting values and morality that in reality are truly hate and fear of difference and a need to force all people to conform to their views and beliefs.

So, I will continue to worry about the safety of my boys every time I send them into a public men's bathroom alone, but not because I am worried about transgender persons. I will continue to stand VERY close to the door in case I'm needed. And I will continue to work to embrace and pray for all people, even those whose beliefs are so different from mine, such as these people who align themselves with this American Family Association, because that is what Jesus Christ calls us to do. And I will continue to try to teach my boys that we can learn so much from looking at situations from other's points of view and then drawing our own conclusions and showing them how beautiful our world is filled with people with so many differences.

Over and out…

Anna

My Whole Life {Thinking Out Loud}

This may strike you as selfish, but lately I've been feeling like I – as in my hopes and dreams and ideas and purpose for My Whole Life – are disappearing; being swallowed up. And I'm mourning this loss of me.

When I was a kid I looked ahead and thought I have My Whole Life ahead of me. And boy was it rosy...in my mind's eye. I envisioned having a whole gaggle of kids, a wonderful husband, a brilliant career in something that made me lots of money – the exact details of that career changed from time to time over my childhood. I would have a big, beautiful home filled with beautiful, expensive things – the kind I saw in my grandmother's Southern Living magazines. But more than anything else, I planned to DO SOMETHING BIG with My Whole Life. I just didn't know what it was yet. My Whole Life ahead of me looked amazing!

This vision continued throughout the years, changing slightly, tweaking this or that, lowering the number of children, etc.

Of course, life doesn't usually follow a blueprint drawn out by a 10 year old or an 18 year old or even a 24 year old.

So, by the time I was in my 20s, My Whole Life ahead of me looked different. I still felt that we'd rise above the low starting incomes of just beginning and stupidly acquired debt and still have the big, fine house filled with lovely things and I still thought I could DO SOMETHING BIG in life. By then I was undecided about whether I wanted to have any kids at all, but I was sure I didn't want "lots of kids."

By 30, we had made up our minds about kids…we'd try for 2 – no more than that for sure. We'd soon have our first child. We felt triumphant and thrilled at this new chapter. Life was going well. I had started to ponder what I REALLY WANTED TO DO WITH MY LIFE. I was beginning to dream of writing.

By 40, MY WHOLE LIFE was beginning to be swallowed up by my 2 little humans. Life had thrown us several curve balls in my 30s and I began to lose heart in what My Whole Life would look like in the end. Now, I no longer look at my life and think about DOING SOMETHING BIG in the way that I once did.

My Whole Life is taken up by teaching my kids, doing laundry, shopping for groceries, making meals, struggling through parenting with 2 stubborn, well-versed in arguing, young men, doing my legal editing work at night, paying bills, trying to fit in at least one uninterrupted conversation with my husband, fighting to find some time to do a little writing and all the other minutiae of My Whole small daily Life.

My vision of MY Whole Life is beginning to fade and dry out and crack and crumble like a maple leaf still hanging on the tree late into November.

I have come to realize that My Whole Life is really all about my kids now. I never intended this to happen. This was not my plan. I truly thought I had some big role to play in this world other than raising a family, being a working housewife (not that there is anything wrong with that, but that wasn't what I intended to do with my life)... And now I'm not so sure I will have served much of a role or made much difference at all when it's all said and done.

This is not to say that my life is over or that there is no purpose left or that I have not served some purpose in raising my kids. Not by a long shot. I {hope} I still have lots of time and I have many goals and dreams, but my purpose, my role in this world, is still not clear to me. My Whole Life, as I used to view it, is gone.

Of course, this is not the first time my view of My Whole Life has slipped from view and had to be recreated or adjusted or edited. This happens with each major decision or detour or challenge. And yet, I still held on to this rose-colored view of My Whole Life…until recently.

Sometimes I contemplate whether I should have decided not to have kids. I love my kids and they have added many good things and lots of adventures and laughter to my life, but they have also added more anger and sadness and hurt and struggle to it. And so, I wonder, what would life have been like if we had never decided to have kids? What would My Whole Life look like at 41 then?

I also contemplate what My Whole Life would look like if I had decided to start writing earlier…if we had moved to a different city….if I had changed directions in my career earlier…if I had more passionately pursued a high power career. How would these things change the view from where I stand now?

But it was adding children that took the most enormous bite from my life, gulping it down, leaving me little room to make big changes or do things not centered on them and making me question my purpose and role more than ever. As much as I love my kids and have dedicated so much of my life to raising and educating my kids, this was not what I had in mind for My Whole Life. And honestly, I'm not even very good at this parenting gig. So, maybe that's the ironic part in all of this.

Regardless, from where I stand, My Whole Life now hangs in the balance, awaiting final verdict. Will it have been a well lived life? Could I have lived it better?

So, call me selfish, if you like. Either way, day in and day out, I give much of myself to my family. And perhaps this is what I'm supposed to have done with My Whole Life all along. Or maybe I'm a late bloomer, and there's still something Big to come.

I do hope you read this in the voice I wrote it in. This is neither a complaint nor a "woe is me" call for pity. I'm not depressed or sad. I'm simply mulling it over, looking over the years and realizing how late in the game I am at this point in my life. It is also not intended to place judgment on those who have chosen and intended to choose to devote their whole lives to having kids and raising them. To each his own!

I have to believe I am where I am supposed to be, doing what I am supposed to be doing right now, even if this was not what I envisioned or planned or would have chosen for myself. Can you relate to how I feel? Over and out…

Anna

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An Apology: Not Quite Myself

Yesterday, I was the person I complain about. I was not very friendly. I was curt. I was kind of a bitch. That wasn't my intention. I really didn't mean it. That's not who I am…on most days.

I was anxious and stressed. I'm not even sure why. Maybe it was the dull gray sky and wet drizzly rain making everything seem smeared and fractured. Or maybe something else. Who knows? The point is I was jittery and frazzled.

The boys and I were scheduled to volunteer at Feed My Starving Children. We were glad to go and excited to give our time, but it was our first time doing this. We didn't know what to expect.

There are a lot of rules and precision and hair nets and gloves involved, understandably so, but this made my stress level go up a notch. I was there with people I did not know; stress went up another notch. I had to monitor each boy plus man my station; bump, bump, bump stress level was now soaring.

I like to follow the rules in these types of situations. I don't like to mess up. And I was really trying to focus on our tasks at hand and remember all the rules.

The other mother working with me also had two boys, but they had been there several other times and knew what they were doing. She was friendly and tried to chat with me. I answered her, but I was VERY brief, and I didn't ask her any questions in return…it's hard for me to chat and focus on a new task.

She was kind when we made mistakes or when my boys didn't realize it was their turn to dump their ingredients into the bag. I was harsher and more direct, telling my boys to "pay attention" or "focus on what you're doing" or "be careful not to spill – we don't want to waste any."

I felt my face contort into a serious, focused façade and stay that way throughout the process. I felt my muscles tense and my back begin to ache as I stiffly stood there scooping, bagging, weighing and watching my kids, answering their questions, steadying their hands and keeping their minds on their jobs.

I was relieved when it was over. My kids said they felt good about what they had done. They loved helping in a group and then hearing that we had packed a total of 52 boxes, enough to feed 31 kids for a year. They were happy and joyful. I was tired and achy and thankful to be done. And then I felt guilty to feel that way, which made me feel more anxious.

I was trying to be positive and kind when I thanked the woman who had organized this homeschool opportunity, and told her this experience was very educational; I knew I'd be lying if I told her it was fun.

I came home feeling terrible that I had given the kind woman across from me such an awful first impression of me. I'm usually the talker, as those who know me would attest to, but I just didn't have it in me yesterday.

Do you ever have days like this? These dark days leading up to winter are always the hardest for me, but truthfully it can happen on any day in any season. I hate days like this. It's not me. And yet, I am reminded of My Many Colored Days by Dr. Seuss when I feel this way.

Some days are bright and yellow and some are dark and black and others are happy pink days, but in the end we go back to being ourselves.

So, to the friendly lady, I'm sorry you met me on a dreary gray day. I hope we meet again on a bright and buzzy day. Here's to a better rest of the week. Over and out…

Anna

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On Broken Shells & People

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder…I agree.

We recently spent time on a glorious beach full of shells of all kinds of shapes and colors and sizes. I really love shells and rocks and driftwood and glass; those things that come from the water and end up on the shore, polished and smooth. I tend to walk up and down the expanse of sand, my feet meeting with the quiet, bubbly fizz with each coming and going wave, eyes down, searching for anything that catches my eye.

On one of the beaches I walked upon, a woman who was also picking up shells asked me, "What are you searching for?" I told her, "Anything interesting."

I'm quite sure most people would look at my collection of rocks and shells from various beaches I've visited and fail to see anything special. While finding a perfectly colored, unbroken shell is a thrill and certainly a keeper, I also love the broken shells, the ones full of tiny holes, the ones with barnacles attached and the peculiarly shaped and smoothed rocks just as well.

The innards of the twirling shells, exposing eye-catching curves and unexpected colors, polished so smooth and soft are some of my favorite finds. And the big white clam shells, riddled with thousands of little holes are so odd and beautiful.

This beach in Florida was new to us and we found quite a collection of "interesting" shells. And as I searched and picked up shells and studied them, making the decision of whether to keep or discard, I thought about how, like the broken or imperfect or common shells, people are often discarded, forgotten, left behind because they are perceived as broken or flawed or just plain, uninteresting and unattractive.

And yet, we would do well remembering the rough and ugly oyster who can produce the magnificent and valued pearl within. The insides can be surprising.

There was a type of shell I spotted fairly often on the sand with a whitish, blackish exterior, appearing to have been a black shell, with its outer coating having been partially rubbed off; nothing too special, but on the flip side, the inside, it is the purest white with a thick rim, giving the impression that it's the inside of a coconut. Time and again, the bright, pure white of the inside of this shell surprised me.

Over and over, the boys' attention was caught by the iridescent shimmers of what we discovered to be the Pen Shell. The outside is brownish, rough and really not attractive, but turn it over and you're lost in a sea of deep blue, purple, green and gold hues reminiscent of a peacock's plumes, as exquisite as Tiffany stained glass.

The insides can be surprising.

Sometimes people are rough, unpolished, even unattractive to our ever discerning eye, on the outside. And so often, we stop there failing to look below the surface to see the beauty, the complicated design, the delicate curves, the splendid colors.

So many of the whelks and cones and tulips and crowns and conchs, the twirly shells, found washed up on the shore are broken or tips worn away or dissected down the middle. These shells are now exposed. Their intricate twists and turns open for all to see. Within these shells, I see beautiful blooming flowers, impossibly steep and dramatically curving staircases and intriguing symmetry. I could look at these shells for days on end and not tire of them.

People are like this too. Some have been broken or worn down or cut to the core, but their beauty remains and cannot be extinguished by hardship, heartbreak or disappointment. These are the kind of people who draw you in and you're happy to just gaze upon them and be near them; for they are beautiful inside and out, no matter how many times they've been pushed to and fro and knocked about by life's waves.

I found loads of jingles, scallops and clams, all of striking colors; bright whites, shimmery silvers, lively oranges, varying degrees of reds, deep purples. At first, they looked whole and perfect, but then upon further inspection, I could see a small chink out of the edge or on the flip side a barnacle was attached or a small hole had been bored through the middle. But I still came home with quite a few of these "imperfect" shells.

After all, who among is without flaws? We all have things that make us unique, whether it's a scar or birth mark or personality quirk or a signature hairstyle or misguided style efforts that are easily seen and readily identified. Of course, we also have flaws or damage that is not so easily seen too. And upon first glance, we seem perfect, just right, to those around us. And so, when the tiny missing piece or the extra baggage appears, hopefully, we still seem perfect to our friends and family who know and love us, regardless of those things that make us a bit flawed or quirky.

The thing is that there is beauty everywhere. One must only slow down, focus on those who surround you, open your eyes to all the lovely things within your sights, and be brave enough to peel back the outer shells of those who seem hard to love or plain, always fading away into the background. For the insides can be surprising. And there's always more character in the hole riddled, barnacle covered creatures.

So, I'll keep searching for interesting finds on beaches and keep trying to remember that sometimes the broken and scarred ones are the best finds, on the beach and in life. Over and out…

Anna

The Second Day of Homeschool

I started out exhausted, to begin with…after the first day of homeschool.

And you should know, I'm not a morning person by nature….NOT EVER…NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT!

But I was trying to make a grand start of things…by making a fresh, organic, healthy, pineapple, banana, peach, apple, kale (from our garden), berry yogurt, apple juice smoothie and not so healthy, but yummy, cinnamon toast.

I ended up with green smoothie in my hair and a splintered spoon before there was smoothie in cups {it's a long story}.

While preparing breakfast, I turned up the Christian radio on Pandora, but my kids were louder and that made me cranky! Then, I realized I was yelling at my kids while singing about Jesus…hmmm, that didn't seem right…

My younger son was irritating me by trying to change up my carefully planned morning schedule. Both sons were loud and bouncy and rubbing me the wrong way.

We had plans to meet a friend at a cool park, but it was raining really hard where the park is located.

I had 2 cups of coffee, 3 ibuprofen and 2 chocolate chip cookies {in secret} before noon.

We changed our plans to go to the friend's house instead.

Then, my car was on E and I had to stop to get gas. Then, we ran into a funeral procession and had to detour. Then, we ran into construction and our way was closed off. I was beginning to feel like we'd never get there. We did…finally.

And I got some adult/friend/fellow homeschooling mom time and the kids played inside and outside and got hot and sweaty and enjoyed getting to know old friends again.

And then on the way home {avoiding all highways at 5 pm} we happened upon an ice cream place and stopped for a scoop even though it was dinner time, and we still had to stop and get some groceries and go home and cook and eat.

And it was good, and the boys didn't even complain about having to go to Trader Joe's with me and my younger son didn't throw a fit when there were no frozen chocolate covered bananas in stock, even though he had been talking about getting more of those for weeks now.

And they ate dinner and took showers without any arguments.

And, in review, I realized we had accomplished things today: we learned about China and did math and worked on memorizing a scripture verse and did a morning devotional and recited the Pledge of Allegiance and had a good breakfast this morning.

So, I'll get up and do it all over again in the morning and the next morning, but tomorrow they get a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Oh, and I'm sleeping in on Saturday morning! Over and out…

Anna

No Words

* I can't find the right words. Each one seems flimsy and hollow. All of them are inadequate. None of them can hold the depth of the heart and soul, the enormity of the pain, the everlasting gaping hole.

There simply are no words.

What do you say to a mother who has just lost her young child?

I've been clinging to, "I'm praying for you." Those words are true and hopefully bring a feeling of warmth and peace and fortitude, if not in this moment, then at some later point in time.

And yet, when I sit, poised to write, staring at the blank card, I can't think of anything that sounds even remotely comforting or helpful in this situation.

I imagine myself in this position and everything sounds stale and cheap and shallow.

I try to feel what she might feel, but of course I can't because my kids are safe and well, asleep in their beds. I can't truly imagine that pain and shock and confusion of my child dying. I can't. And I don't want to. Ever.

My heart breaks for her and with her. I am a mother. We have a bond; the bond of motherhood.

Nothing will ever be the same for her. There will always be a loss. A hole. A missing piece.

I want to tell her that this pain will diminish one day, but I don't know if that's true. I want to tell her life will move on, but that's simply not fair to imagine life being fun and light and happy without this precious child. I want to tell her I understand, but I can't possibly. I want to take her in my arms and shelter her from the unbearable truth, the pain of losing a part of your heart, but she must keep moving forward.

She must and she will, for herself, for her child now with God, for her child still on earth, for her spouse. She will move slowly and painfully for a while, but ever so slightly each day will be smoother, with fewer tears and more smiles. This will not weaken her memories or her love for her child.

This mother's son will always be with her; within her. Always.

* I wrote this back in April when my son's friend and classmate, Ben, suddenly and unexpectedly died. It didn't seem right to publish it then. It was too raw, too painful, too soon. I recently re-read it and decided that it felt right to post it now.

Over and out…

Anna

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In the Eye of the Hurricane {Peace}

{Without} Caution

Sometimes it's best to throw caution to the wind….I know it sounds risky, but trust me. I speak from experience.

I'm a cautious kind of person. I don't take warnings lightly. I'm really more of a test-the-waters-and-heed-the-signs-foretelling-the-fate-of-a-reckless-leap-from-the-deceivingly-placid-shoreline kind of person.

And yet…sometimes…sometimes you just have to let go and take a running jump of faith leaving behind terra firma to go splashing and thrashing around in the depths.

But it's OK. You can swim. Just relax and remember to rise to the surface to fill your lungs with air. You can do this. You'll be fine. And you won't be alone. There will be others swimming about with nothing but faith to keep them afloat, just like you.

Some will be accustomed to the deep waters, gliding easily through the dark, far below the surface, and they will be there to guide those who struggle. For some will struggle a bit until they realize they don't need to touch the bottom or see through the murky waters to make it; they, too, can swim or float and hold their breaths while under the water.

A few will lose faith and hope and will have to be saved, but not you. You will find your way and eventually your foot will feel solid ground beneath it again, and you will rise up and out of that miry clay all the better for having taken that jump.

So, when you see a sign like this, don't be afraid. Just take a deep breath and get ready for a plunge. Who knows what wonders lie below the surface forever unseen by those too fearful to risk anything? Over and out…

Anna

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Connected in Thought and Feeling

I am forever connected to my children through invisible lines that stretch endless distances carrying various emotions to and fro. I feel what they feel. I hurt when they hurt. I sigh when they are placid and happy. I cheer when they are excited. I itch with nervous energy when they are on edge.

We are like E.T. and Elliot; our lifeblood runs as one.

And so it is that I am a ball of nerves and stress lately. I am frustrated and let down and irritated with the public education system in general. I am done with this school year; I am tired; I have a single focus.

These feelings are siphoned from my son and fed into my veins. I hate that he feels these things, but I am without a plan to change these circumstances of the last four weeks of school.

In a Land Far, Far Away

It's silly really. It's not as if I got to see her terribly often and it's not as if this should change how often I talk to her, but still, I feel the added distance and it makes me miss her. My best friend from college; the one I have seen the most and talked to the most over the years just moved from Texas to Idaho.

In Texas, I had the chance to see her, stay with her, get to know her boys as I traveled there for work and family visits. I have reason to travel to Texas. I know the route well. It's all familiar.

Idaho is far, far away from me. It's all unfamiliar. I don't know the way there. I can't picture where she is or know anything about the place. I feel sad for me; I don't know when I will see her again.

But I feel happy for her and her family as they begin a new adventure in this far away corner of the country. And I envision a long road trip with my boys, along new terrain, on our way to visit my friend. And then, once again, I will know the way to her and what her house looks like and where she has settled and she won't feel so far away when I talk to her and think of her.

In the meantime, we'll make a point to call each other more often.

Life After Loss

Life from day to day has no certainty for any of us. And yet, we keep going without thinking much about our own mortality or that of our loved ones until we are forced to. It's best this way. For if we dwell on such matters for long we'll be consumed by the questions for which we cannot know the answers.

But when there is a sudden loss; loss without reason, without preparation, without last sentiments exchanged, without time to think through, it's hard to know where to begin again. It's hard not to think on those dark questions of which we cannot know the answers. And yet, we must not.

We must go on living and doing and laughing and loving and working through all the lovely and momentous and unpleasant and insignificant and bright and dark moments of life. And that realization is both terrifying and reassuring all at the same time.

It's terrifying to think that life must simply go on with this gaping hole in life's cast. And it's reassuring, that eventually, this will be the new normal and life will resume again, altered and not so shiny, but still full of hope.

Starting up again is never easy, whether it's losing a spouse or child or parent or grandparent or sibling or beloved pet. It's just isn't. And that's OK, but know that one day the tears won't come so easily and the sun will seem a little brighter and your smile will feel a bit more familiar and then you'll know it's all going to be alright.

Over and out…

Anna

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Who Are You?....Really…{Psychology in a Quiz)

What type of person are you? What city should you live in? What kind of animal spirit are you? Are you a true child of the 80's? Which super hero are you? Which queen of comedy are you? Are you right brained or left brained or balanced? What color are you? Which Frozen character are you? Which Hogwarts professor are you? Which House of Cards character are you? Which Disney princess are you? Which Star Wars character are you? What type of sandwich are you? Which state are you really from? Which Friends character are you? How many children should you have? What planet are you? What type of career should you have? What type of emoji are you? What grade are you getting in life?

Wait? What? You…Don't…Know? How can you possibly get through each day?

Well, if you're on Facebook at all, you know what I'm talking about. These quizzes have been making their rounds on the social media circuit as of late. The website buzzfeed is behind these personality quizzes that tell us something or nothing or everything about ourselves.

But why are we intrigued by them? Why do we keep sharing them and posting our results?

Well, I'm no psychologist, and I don't know how the answers are configured, but I'm certain these quizzes will not answer any deep, dark questions of life or offer an answer about which path to take. And I doubt anyone is taking these quizzes too seriously. I've taken some of these quizzes just for the fun of it; often the explanation makes sense and affirms something about me; sometimes it's just funny or completely off, but why do we feel inclined to keep clicking on them?

My theory: We like to answer things about ourselves and get our "fortunes" at the end. We like for things to be about us. We like to have affirmations of our strengths and dreams and attitudes. It's the same reason we always read our horoscopes at the end of magazine or in the newspaper; we like to know about ourselves and get a glimpse of the future and maybe, just maybe some of it might be true.

For the record: I'm a boss; I should live in Monaco; I'm an Eagle (I think); I am a true child of the 80's; I am Captain Planet; I am Maya Rudolph; I use both sides of my brain equally; I am yellow; I am Elsa (hmmm, not Anna, after all); I am Professor Snape. I am Remy; I am Princess Aurora; I am Yoda; it turns out I'm a soggy veggie wrap; I'm really from Texas (go figure); I am Monica; apparently I should have 3 children (NOT A CHANCE). Oh, and I made up the one about the planet, but it turns out there is such a quiz, and I am Earth- how about that? I'm a humanitarian and should be a judge. I'm a sarcastic side-eye. I'm getting an A- in life.

Maybe my theory is wrong, but does it really matter? These quizzes are mini time wasters that give us a laugh or affirm our attributes. There's no harm done. Enjoy.

One note: oddly enough, I should have married a pizza. Who knew?

I should also note that Ellen DeGeneres took the Queen of Comedy Quiz, one end result is Ellen, herself, but instead Ellen got Chelsea Handler. And when Ellen had Chelsea on the show and Chelsea took this quiz she got Tina Fey. So, you be the judge of the accuracy. Over and out…

Anna

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My Life {in a Bag}

As I was stuffing my laptop into my old leather bag, the one I've carried since law school, I realized that the contents are a pretty good representative of who I am. Now, whether this a positive or negative, I'm not so sure.

I like to be prepared for what life throws at me. So, I'm always the one with an overstuffed carry-ons and large suitcase at the airport. I was the one who carried the giant diaper bag and was never out of snacks or diapers or wipes, etc. I pack heavy.

I've been carrying my big, old, Eddie Bauer Leather bag a lot lately because it's my busy season when it comes to my legal editing work. So, it goes with me to tae kwon do classes and to the coffee shops and anywhere else that I might have a few minutes of sitting and waiting; time I could be reading or working on my computer.

What could I possibly need, you ask? Well, of course, there's the obvious, my laptop and cord. Then, there's the little zipper bag with my hot spot device (a necessity for me), ear buds, an external hard drive (I want to always have access to my photos – you never know what I might need for a post), and USB charging cord and plug.

There are two volumes of National Geographic, The Week, Gluten Free Living and a Minnesota Monthly stuffed in too…just in case I have a minute to read. There are two notepads and a variety of pens tucked in; a pack of gum, left from the last flight I took – to Chicago in December. Some used tissues are stuffed in a pocket – must not have had a trash handy - and the small package with remaining unused Kleenex are in another pocket – I'm never without Kleenex. I'm an allergy sufferer.

Two travel size Norwex enviro cloths made it in. You never know when you might need to wipe something off someone's hands, face, computer or tablet or phone screen, clothing, etc. They get a lot of use. I also found a small Pokémon toy from a McDonald's Happy Meal pushed down in an inside pocket, along with 2 applesauce pouches and a granola bar. A mom always has a few snacks stashed away for emergencies.

There's a small Gussy Sews pouch with business cards and my ever-present big, paper calendar. I NEED to write things down on a real calendar. No virtual calendar for me. Nope, I like my 8.5 x 11 notebook style calendar with chicken scratch and marked out items and red and blue and black ink and coffee stains and all.

And last, but not least my phone, keys, my big, overstuffed wallet, a couple of tubes of lipstick (I almost always blend colors and really hate to go without lipstick) and my powder compact.

Is it heavy? Yes. Is it all necessary? Yes.

Well, I did throw out the brochure for a tae kwon do tournament from March, the used Kleenex and the index card with travel info from our trip to Chicago in December. What's in your bag? Over and out…

Anna

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{Love} Stories

What's your story? We all have stories to tell; happy, sad, surprising, touching, magical, mysterious, funny, ironic stories of our lives.

I shared a question on Facebook last week that elicited quite a response. The question was this: "If you had to marry your partner where you met him or her, where would that be?"

The responses were terrific. Each mini story left me wanting to ask more questions; to know more. Each story is completely unique because it belongs to only those two people. It's Their Story. No one else has the same one of where and when and how.

My husband and I had conflicting stories. I know, how can that be, right? Well, it happened like this:

The first time we had contact, and the response that Will provided to this question, was in the dark of night out by Lake Arrowhead where his fraternity was having a party. I agreed to accompany my friends out to this remote location. Their boyfriends were Will's fraternity brothers and were already out there somewhere in the dark. It was a cold night for Texas.

Will was completely covered in winter gear except for his face. He was also a bit affected by the beverages he had been imbibing during the evening…OK, a lot affected. He danced with me out in the dark, two-stepping to a rock song and continuing to dance after the music ended. He was a freshman. I was a sophomore. He later had no idea who it was he had danced with. He was all but forgotten by me.

Fast forward a few weeks later, here comes my response to the question; our official meeting. My sorority had a mixer with his fraternity. I was dressed as Kermit the Frog. He was dressed as Forest Gump. There was a theme; we didn't just go around dressing in costumes. He asked one of my best friends who it was he had danced with that night in the dark by the lake since she had been there too.

He spoke to me and used my name. I was surprised he had remembered. He didn't mention that he had asked my friend what my name was and which one I was. Instead he said, "Of course I remembered your name."

This time it was me who had a bit too much trash can punch, but I still remembered him the next day, and I knew his name.

I waited for him to call. He didn't. I waited two more days. He didn't call me. So, of course, me being me, I called him and asked him why he hadn't called me yet. He said, "I was going to call you."

It may not have been love at first sight, but for me, it was love at first taquito. That was our first "date"; Whataburger for taquitos; you know, flour tortillas with eggs and cheese and hashbrowns and meat if you wanted. I wasn't eating meat back then or rarely, anyway. It was the one on Southwest Parkway in Wichita Falls.

They serve them only from 11 pm to 11 am. I was on a big taquito kick back then and suggested we go at 11 pm for a taquito and chat. We sat and ate and talked and talked and talked. That was enough for me. He was good-looking and tall and funny (in a goofy way) and took all of my questions well and shared his thoughts and dreams and seemed like a good person. He may have needed more convincing, but big decisions I make quickly and easily. {I didn't tell him I had made this decision, of course. I waited for him to make up his mind…it took a while.}

So, to answer the question. We would have been married at the Sigma Nu house in Wichita Falls…in my version. Not my idea of an ideal wedding location. So, I'm glad we chose the United Methodist Church in Oklahoma City. Why Oklahoma City…well, that's another story.

Now, my story here was a longer response, but I love the single line responses to the question I got on Facebook:

a college math class…Walker Art Center…TGIFridays... a Sadie Hawkins dance in high school…in church…Excel Energy Center…on the ski slopes…junior high…Target...a blind date at Perkins…barracks at Bergstrom AFB…blind date at The Dry Dock, a dry bar/dance place in Blaine…Linden Hills Chatterbox pub…a church summer camp where we worked…virtually…first in person at a bus stop…A& W drive-in…In kindergarten…

Don't these responses make you want to know more?

We meet lots of people, especially while in a college math class or at church or in school or at work or through friends, but what happened next? Why did you fall in love? How did you know you had met "the one"? How long does it take to fall in love? Does love at first sight really happen?

Do you share your story with your kids, your grandkids, your friends? Do you tell it to each other each year? Do you ever think what if I hadn't gone on that blind date or had changed plans or dropped that math class or not met each other at all?

And by the way, I don't think these things can be quantified with any scientific formula or device. I think it's a matter between the hearts and minds and souls. How about you? Over and out…

Anna

 

Be Kind and Do the Right Thing {It’s Really That Simple, Isn’t it?}

What if we made decisions based on reason and good sense and because it was in the best interest for all or at least most? What then?

What would our world look like? What would we think of our leaders then? How would we feel about mankind? How would we feel about ourselves?

There are a few things that have really bothered me over the last few weeks; items from news headlines and articles. Here they are {in brief} and my thoughts on them {in brief…as brief as I can be}:

All Parents have Challenges

Gwyneth says moms with "regular" jobs working 9 to 5 have it easier than "movie stars" working 14 hours on location.

My Take: Don't compare yourself to others and their situations. You have no idea the challenges, burdens and sacrifices that another has faced or is facing. Simply be kind to others and live your own life. And if you don't like your life, take steps to change that – this goes for "movie stars" too.

I have no doubt it is challenging to be a celebrity and a mom, but it is also challenging to be "regular" mom working 9 to 5 in an office or working from home or working shifts or whatever a mom's situation is. Can we just agree it's challenging to be a mom?

Government could Save $400 Million with One Simple Change

Fourteen year-old boy comes up with a simple (& proven) way to save the federal and state governments $400 million dollars each year by changing the font in which they use for printing purposes; Times New Roman uses more ink than Garamond. By printing in Garamond, the governments would save this astronomical (to me) amount in ink costs.

My Take: This is remarkable. And yet, will the branches of government even consider such a change; a change that could mean closing the gap in other areas of their budgets or that this money could go towards more important things than ink? I doubt it. It seems that the government (federal and state) and the politicians running them are rarely interested in ways to truly be economical or do what is safer, healthier or smarter with our money. It is almost always about spending money in their districts or with their constituents or something that will benefit them personally, I am sorry to say.

But wouldn't it be great to see the government truly working with this 14 year-old and implementing this simple change?

If the government was run like a household budget, the government would most certainly try this money-saving plan.

Watch YourSELF! Don't be a Bully!

Self Magazine published a photo of two women running in a marathon wearing superhero-inspired tutus…and featured it in their BS Meter, Legit or Lame segment, calling it lame and making fun of them for wearing the tutus…one of the runners in the photo has cancer, ran while doing chemo and makes and sells the tutus to help fund a youth development program for girls…

My Take: This whole thing really smells to high heaven. They asked permission to use this photo and then proceeded to make fun of her and her friend… that's bad enough. But then, they find out she has cancer and was going through chemotherapy during the time she ran and she does good with the money she makes in selling these tutus….wow!

So, editors at Self, clearly you failed miserably on this photo, but I think you have failed overall with this whole segment. Who are you to poke fun at anyone? Even if she and her friend were simply runners, no cancer or nonprofits involved, it's not OK to make rude comments about someone. That is bullying behavior. I say ditch your BS Meter altogether.

I applaud the self-expression, and you can call me lame if you like, but anything superhero-inspired is cool in our household. And seriously, these two women were RUNNING A MARATHON! They ROCK…period!

Privacy Issues in School Bathrooms

There was a recent incident in a St. Paul school when a janitor was inappropriate in a boys bathroom.

My Take: As a mom to boys, I have often thought this is a bad idea for the men on staff to share a bathroom with the boys in the school, considering there are urinals and not just stalls. I think both boys and the male teachers/staff should have privacy in a bathroom at school. And having separate bathrooms for students and personnel affords protection from such instances, for both the adults and students. Of course, the same can be said for the girls bathrooms too, but there are at least stalls and doors, giving more privacy. And really, I'm not sure urinals without enclosures have a place in schools.

Suing Your Parents is NOT a Good Idea…EVER

A high school student sued her parents, trying to force them to pay for her college expenses. The suit was dropped and the girl moved home, fortunately.

My Take: Don't bite the hand that feeds you. Clearly, this girl had lost her way somewhere and has hopefully found her path again now. There was little basis to her lawsuit. There was no evidence of abuse or neglect. Instead, it appeared to be a case of a girl not wanting to follow her parents' rules (which by reports from her parents were not terribly restricting) and leaving home on her own accord to live with a friend's family once she turned 18, but wanting her parents to continue to fund her life.

This friend's father was an attorney. It sounds like he talked her into suing her parents for her Catholic high school tuition payment and college living expenses for the next year. This is very unfortunate, it not only put attorneys in a bad light yet again, it also makes the girl look like a spoiled rotten, greedy brat (which may not have been the case at all) and these shenanigans cost all involved a great deal of expense and energy and heartache….all for nothing.

Usually simply talking out a problem is a good and cheap solution to most familial issues.

These are the headlines that have been knocking around in my head lately. And now you know my take on them. Over and out…

Anna

 

 

 

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On Aging {and Reading Glasses}

I don't feel "old"…but I am getting close to that unofficial marker of "maturity." Forty is just six and half months from today; just around the corner. And I'm fine with this. It's just a number. And I really love my birthday, regardless of the number.

But lately I have noticed a few things.

I have to pull my phone back away from my face to focus on the words. I can't see the small print well when I pick up a book to read from the pile next to my bed. I keep checking my computer settings, thinking I have accidentally reduced the size of font on my screen. I have caught myself squinting at my computer and food labels and books and mail, in recent weeks.

My eyesight is changing.

Apparently, around the age of 40 it's normal to begin experiencing these types of sight issues, according to my online search.

Luckily, I have reading glasses from 15 years ago.

It was during law school when I noticed headaches and eye strain from having my head in the books so much. The optometrist said this was typical for law students. I wore them through law school and then stopped because I didn't need them anymore.

Now I do.

What a difference it made as I typed these words and read an article and worked on some editing.

Of course, it's not just my eyes changing. My dark hair continues to morph into strands of silvery gray. My eyebrows seem wirier. The joints in my fingers are a bit knottier.

Eh. I'm alright with these things.

There is also a freedom that comes with age; a façade from one's youth that gently falls away over time. There is a settling in the skin like a pair of old, familiar jeans that gives comfort in simply being me.

Age does not define me, but rather gives me license to define myself.

And it appears that part of that is accepting the fact that I'll be wearing reading glasses more often. And if you aren't 40 yet, don't laugh….it will happen to you too…eventually. Over and out…

Anna

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