Well I am the ripe old age of 42 today for real. I've been claiming that age for months now. Every laugh line and wrinkle and gray hair are mine, I earned them all. That goes for the rolls of fat that have appeared to be happy to have residence on my body. Gee, soon I can start a bakery with all these rolls. OK, enough we all get the picture, I'm ok with how old I am and how I am.
Today is a great day to look forward to as I have an appointment with SVEN, my own personal massuese. Plus, Bill says it is a "ME" day, I don't have to do a thing or lift a finger. All I can say is Otis Redding is floating threw my head singing..."Sitting by the dock of the bay" I've got a big bottle of Mudslide mix, anyone can stop over for a Mudslide.
My birthday present is going away next weekend for an extended weekend, leaving Sunday, coming back Thursday. We are going to check out our new place we are buying in a retirement complex. Our offer was accepted, we have to see it ourselves and then the process starts for the mortgage. In 4-6 weeks we'll have the closing and be homeowners. And I'll be a displaced yank in Southern territory. :head_hurts: living in a retirement complex.
Petey the Pomeranian just doesn't get it. I keep telling him, he has to learn to tone it down, loose his northern cocky attitude, become a southern boy.... He's wearing a red collar, that certifies him as a red neck I think. I'm running out of treats trying to teach him "Heeey" but we'll blend in I'm sure...... :bouncing_off_wall:
PS... I used Febreeze on this, it was musty, had dropped to page 2.
It isn't quite 8 a.m. and I haven't finished my first cup of coffee and I'm out of sugar and had to use Splenda. Ah well such is life some mornings..... I was wandering in the older entries of blogs and read one by Givincare about reaching goals. It distinctly reminded me of a time on my journey to acceptance where the question begged to be answered. "When does having huge amounts of hope, turn out to really be denial in disguise"? As many know, hope can be a persuasive thing, it seduces one into a passive state of mind.
I used to sit and wonder if I had such blind faith in hope and my recovery, was I really trying to accept in realistic terms how different I was? Cause back then I had blind faith in myself that I would recover but I also hedged my bets and set realistic goals, I never strived for 100 percent recovery. I knew the odds weren't good. I said if I got 100 percent back that would be a bonus to the whole deal. But I wasn't setting myself up for a lifetime of beating myself up. Nah, I knew better. So I had blind faith in hope. But if I wondered I have this blind faith in something that was as yet undefined and completely understood by me, wasn't it really just denial? Putting off dealing with the harsh realities of stroke recovery? I drove myself in circles with that question. In fact I am having a hard time writing about it.( this morning, it must be the Splenda)
Now, I hope that no one replies and brings God into this cause God had no part in my acceptance journey and God isn't going to be given credit for the easy part. Can any one answer when hope morphs into false hope and therefore becomes denial? Is the line between them much more distinctive for some then for others? I know to have one I had to have parts of the others. It was like a having an equal parts cocktail.
Alright my thoughts are already in shambles, seems the tracking problem and word retrieval problem is rearing their ugly little heads. I forgot what I was trying to say or the point I wanted to make. Can't even remember why I wanted to write about this in the first place, the trail has grown cold of why I thought it was important.
I know I found hope was an important ingredient in my recovery. But I guess one may have to get philosphical and ask "what is hope" and then ask "what is false hope"? I guess knowing the difference between the two would be helpful, so denial ( which isn't just a river in Eygpt) can be fought off. To me that is a dead end trail that just saps your energy and wastes your time. I found it was a tightrope to walk and being my balance is shot, not an easy feat.
Sorry, I wasted your time reading this, I cannot get myself back on track, I may just delete the whole entry. I think the PMS Barbie has gone bad and I should go back to bed and start over today.
We all know what the survivor shuffle is... It is what our gaits look like and our balance is gone when we get tired. For me it becomes one step forward and three steps sideways and then hop around on my right leg to get my balance back. It takes awhile to get to where I want to go doing the shuffle, but I get there eventually. "Eventually" has become my middle name.
Why am I mentioning the survivor shuffle? Cause when I am performing my personal version I appear to be drunk, it happens at 9 a.m. but normally between 5-6 at night too.
TRhe other night we went grocery shopping. We didn't leave for the grocery store till about 5 P.M. and then we shopped for a couple of hours, big store. Get up to the register and walk past the register to get a bottled water out of the refridgerated units they have by all the registers. Well it wasn't working, so I start to walk the 15 or so steps to the next little fridge. On my way there I automatically started doing the Survivor shuffle. Reached the unit, grabbed my water, walked back over the register and set the bottle down with the other 240 items we had purchased. The checker is a young guy maybe around 21. He shyly asks me what happened to my leg, why I had a brace on? I replied" I had a stroke." He got embarrassed and kept saying oh my I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked." Now I wasn't that tired that I didn't stop and wonder why he was feeling such embarassment over asking. So after the third time he apologized, I bluntly asked him...."Tell me the truth, I said, you thought I was drunk with the way I was walking, didn't you?" He nodded his head "yes"
The reason I am taking the time to write a blog about this is because I have come along way in how I felt answering a stranger in what happened to me. I want to acknowledge that it no longer was an issue to me of none of their business. In fact I was pretty amused that he thought I was drunk. So do I chalk one up for teaching someone that they shouldn't judge someone before they know the whole story? or do I chalk one up for stroke awareness?
I had in the past replied on a thread about this very same subject a year or so ago. Then I hated strangers asking me what had happened. Then I was of the mind, that I thought they were nosy and rude and dragged me out of my comfort zone and makiing me face that I was different. phsyically. But the other day I didn't care a bit and it didn't bother me that I look drunk when I'm not.
Hummmmmmm, I think acceptance has become by default second nature and automatic.. Well thank the cosmos, progress happens still!
Alright I'm coming to terms or coming to age (take your pick) with seeing how I really am now. Physically I am old and feeble and doddering on the edge. As in analogy not in actual fact. But has anyone else here given this concept any thought? After surviving stroke, no matter what age we are, physically we just got launched into old age whether we were ready or not. So I am now trying to shift my life around to accomadate that fact. It is behind my decision in housing for the future, mass transportation, pharmacy locations and all those things one of advanced age must take into consideration.
So, ok this is a natural course of events post stroke some may say.... But I am struggling with the idea as I look at myself as young ( at 42) I'm not ready for a nursing home yet, will not participate in Bingo, macaroni art or macrame. but in all honesty, housing is important and I'd rather have my chance to make my informed choice now and not have it made for me. Does anyone here live in a senior community? Not assisted living, I don't need that. But it is something I have to look into, as my body betrayed me by aging faster then I wanted.
And a poet said, 'Speak to us of Beauty.'
Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?
And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?
The aggrieved and the injured say, 'Beauty is kind and gentle.
Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us.'
And the passionate say, 'Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.
Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us.'
The tired and the weary say, 'beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.
Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow.'
But the restless say, 'We have heard her shouting among the mountains,
And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions.'
At night the watchmen of the city say, 'Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east.'
And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, 'we have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset.'
In winter say the snow-bound, 'She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills.'
And in the summer heat the reapers say, 'We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair.'
All these things have you said of beauty.
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,
But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,
But rather a garden forever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.
People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.
One of my favorites I thought I'd share as I had nothing to blog.....
I will say this is my blog and these are my opinions. I am on a soapbox about being politically correct today. Like come on people, we are still a free country, my opinions don't have to be your opinions, my views don't have to be clones of yours. Take a deep breath and accept that not everyone has the same views as you.
If you are happy being mainstream and having someone tell you how to think, well fine good for you, but I'll think for myself thank you very much.
How many times have I heard someone whine because I see things from a different point of view? And how I saw things made me react a certion way and I lived my life differently? What I need to apologize for that? I need to apologize because I've jumped ship from being Mainstream and I'm existing on the fringe of society. I don't think so. I think it is getting sickening that all these conservatives are becoming too right wing and their whining is getting so loud, others are starting to give in to what they want, simply to shut them up. Well I've got a problem, with any of my rights being taken from me. I got a problem with anyone censoring me because I happen to not label things as they do. I got a problem withmy perspective being judged because it is different and they took offense to how I observe things. I will stop now as I never make sense when I react emotionally. I just needed to get this off my chest.
I have no clue why I am wandering around in the past today. I am not seeking anything. I may have realized a thing or two from my wanderings. 1] I am bored today. Mentally bored. 2] I've come a long long way baby. Wityh the high I get from knowing I am doing well and being mentally bored, well that isn't a good combination. It is the calm before a storm type. The peace before things get mixed up, changed and blown up. This feeling is worse then waiting for baby chicks to peck their way out of an egg shell. They are so excruciatingly slow, it drives you nuts waiting to see them hatch. I am restless, I want to get on with things. Days like today I really miss being able to drive. Cause it was mild for January here in the northeast, in the 50's and today would have been a perfect day to just jump in a car, put the windows down, crank the music and just drive with no known destination. I miss being able to do that.
Yippee the blogs are back! My last entry a week ago was one that I was fed up with everything and everyone. Now a week later, all is well in my world. I went shopping yesterday, got some new CD's to listen to. Life is going according to my newest plan.
I'm still having great progress with just wearing shoes, no brace. That makes me happy. I do have to concentrate more when I walk though, but I know now it is a thing I can do. Another level regained!
Today is not a good day, it is the kind of day when I am fed up. I'm fed up with people professing to have my best interests at heart. I'm fed up with ones who believe in some form of interpretation of the bible assuming that I believe as they do. I'm fed up with having to depend on others. Lets just say I'm fed up with just about everything. We just got another foot of the white stuff, I'm fed up with that too. I no longer am enamoured with the beauty of snow.
The only good thing about today is it is Tuesday which means it is a Dog night at 9P.M. A whole hour of Dog the bounty hunter.
Well, yes today has been a marathon and it isn't 1 P.M. yet. I have to admit that though productive marathon errand filled days are few and far between these days. I still acknowledge when I have one.
I got up at 6 a.m.
Had a few cups of coffee, let the dog out, seperated the laundry, stripped the bed. Sat down and wrotew out bills, left at 10a.m. put my laundry in the machines, booked out of there, went to the phone company, paid my bill, made a copy of a letter, left there went to the post office, mailed my bills, went to the bank, took money out, went back to laundrymat, put my stuff in dryers. Folded everything, stopped by the X's, took care of some business, wanted to vomit, realized again, how better life is post him. Came home, had company for lunch, plus a surprise visitotr, Kim I worked with came over, she moved to Atlanta, Ga. is home for the holidays, it was great to see her and catch up.
1:01 P.M. writing my blog.
Whew! I like having productive days but I can't keep up. I'm tired and ready for a well deserved nap.
Yup day before Christmas and I'm slumming. I am having a bad day.Lots of dark thoughts and I even went and dug the bodies up, they didn't stay buried long enough.
My daughter was over this morning for a whopping 45 minutes, we went outside and she was sliding down the icey snow covered hill on her butt. I was doing my mommy thing and dutifully watching, and clapping and cheering her on and it hit me. I'm missing so much of her daily life. But sometimes it can't be helped and whether I live 800 miles away or around the corner, I'm not there. I'm replaced, out of sight, forgotten.
That was what hurt the most after having a stroke, how easily I was replaced in my own life and I watched it all happen powerless from my wheelchair. I don't like it any better 4 years later then I did when I first stroked. But no sense crying over spilt milk. It happened, it sucked, it hurt but life goes on. Please, no well meaning sentiments involving God, that would make me vomit.
And yeah I'll add this afterthought. This is a pity party for me and I know I was married to a Di** head and not everything is stroke related, I know that.
Maybe I should just air my grievances here, against vegetables, the unfairness of life and X husbands.
I know my definition of sucess has changed since stroke entered my life. How do all of you measure sucess? At one time it was the address, money and job and car I drove. It also was having the first son to carry on the husbands family name. That was then, this is now....( did that book appeal to amyone besides me?) I have some more Zen to share, it is untitled and the author is unknown to me.
To laugh often and love much, to win the respect of intelligent persons and the affection of children; to earn the approbation of honest citizens and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to give of one's self; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to have laughed and played with enthusiam and sung with exaltation; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived- this is to have suceeded.
A few years ago, I met my first real stroke survivor that I gave support to and helped and eventually befriended. Her name is Maria. Maria was having a hard time with the whole stroke event, she was elderly, had some form of Asphasia, no family nearby and was sinking into depression and becoming overwhelmed. I wrote her a letter. I used the analogy of stroke as being at the bottom of a mountain looking way up to thepeak of the mountain. It is a long way to the top but if you you break it down and work at it, eventually one can reach the peak. I was looking to give her hope where there wasn't any. She has since told me that she re-read that letter many times and it helped her in her recovery.
Well tonight I was reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle maintenence. I have been stuck in the middle of that book for months. It has *beep* me off and it has been a struggle reading it, but I read something I thought added to my original analogy of the mountain and I thought I'd share it with you.
"Mountains should be climbed with as little effort as possible and without desire. The reality of your own nature should determine the speed. If you become restless, speed up. If you become winded, slow down. You climb the mountain in an equilibrium between restlessness and exhaustion. Then, when you're no longer thinking ahead, each footstep isn't just a means to an end but a unique event in itself. This leaf has jagged edges. This rock looks loose. From this place the snow is less visible, even though closer. These are things you should notice anyway. To live only for some future goal is shallow.It's the sides of the mountain which sustain life, not the top. Here's where things grow.
But of course without the top you can't have any sides. It's the top that defines the sides. So on we go.... we have a long way...... no hurry.... just one step after the next."
- Robert Pirsig
Maybe you'll find it helpful in some way in your stroke recovery.
Why do we press harder on a remote control when we know the batteries
>are getting weak?
>Why do banks charge a fee on "insufficient funds" when they know there
>is not enough?
>Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion
>stars, but check when you say the paint is wet?
>Whydoesn't glue stick to the bottle?
>Why do they use sterilized needles for death by lethal injection?
>Whydoesn't Tarzan have a beard?
>Why does Superman stop bullets with his chest, but ducks when you
>throw a revolver at him?
>Whydo Kamikaze pilots wear helmets?
>Whose idea was it to put an "S" in the word "lisp"?
>If people evolved from apes, why are there still apes?
>Whyis it that no matter what color bubble bath you use the bubbles
>are always white?
>Is there ever a day that mattresses are not on sale?
>Whydo people constantly return to the refrigerator with hopes that
>something new to eat will have materialized?
>Whydo people keep running over a string a dozen times with their
>vacuum cleaner, then reach down, pick it up, examine it, then put it down
>give the vacuum one more chance?
>Whyis it that no plastic bag will open from the end on your first
>How do those dead bugs get into those enclosed light fixtures?
>When we are in the supermarket and someone rams our ankle with a
>shopping cart then apologizes for doing so, why do we say, "It's all
>right?" Well, it isn't all right, so why don't we say, "That hurt, you
>Why is it that whenever you attempt to catch something that's falling
>off the table you always manage to knock something else over?
>In winter why do we try to keep the house as warm as it was in summer
>when we complained about the heat?
>How come you never hear father-in-law jokes?
>And FINALLY...The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four
>persons is suffering from some sort of mental illness. Think of your
>three best friends -- if they're okay, then it's you.
I have a ton of stuff swirling in my brain today. To give you an idea- Karma, reincarnation, Existentialism, Kierkgard, Kant's Manifold of Destiny(does anyone understand what he was saying? He fries my brain!)philosphies of Buddihism, Paganism and on and on. My brain just never stops or shuts up, plus all the mundane lists of things to do for christmas, moving, ect ect....legal ends to tie up before I leave the state. Baggage to unpack and or throw away. Now I understand where Scarlett was coming from... "I'll think about it tomorrow" Sounds good to me.
I did manage to take a break from thinking and go shopping online. Shopping online is always fun. I'm going to a real store on Wednesday morning, yippee my first venture out shopping this season. Plus, I'm looking forward to the trip to Barnes and Nobles, that is always a easy 100 dollar store.But I still have books to read yet, so not buying nothing for myself.... gift purchases only.
Have to hit the grocery store to buy refridgerated cookie dough.
SSShhh don't tell santa... I did buy presents for myself online this morning.
I don't watch much tv, but for some weeks now, I make sure I am plopped in front of my tv on Tuesdays at 9 and Wednesdays at 8. On A&E is a show called Dog The Bounty Hunter. I am a new fan. I find the show hysterically funny. For a couple hours a week, I get to peek into the world of bounty hunters. While interesting, the appeal for me is the excitement, the danger. Yeah I know I need a life. Working on that..... So for those of you reading my blog, if you have never watched Dog, I strongly urge you to watch it, we could do a weekly Dog chat. Call it the Dog pound or HostBonnie could hold the dawghouse chat. Ha! Can you tell I'm bored? We could have fun with this. Come on people, give me your ideas on Dog the bounty hunter.
OK, My metamorphus has happened. I now hate christmas, want it to just slide by like aging. Wake me up when it is over.
Now I once used to be a lover of all christmas, we used to take two entire weeks to decorate the house, put up two trees and I used to make 400 batches of cookies to give away each year. What was I nuts?????? I'll be lucky if I manage one batch of toll house chocolate chip and I'll cheat and buy the refridgerated dough to make them too. I can't be bothered with all the fuss. I refuse to be stuck cooking the dinner too. screw it, I'd rather eat sticky buns or french toast for dinner. Who needs the whole meat and potatos meal? Why am I writing this on December 5? Cause the X is pushing the whole christmas day thing. I'm not even getting a tree. I may string some white lights on my Hibiscus, but that will be my only contribution to the whole christmas frenzy. I refuse to participate this year, it is my year off. My snow day.
All I want for christmas is my Senseo coffee machine. That's it, I get that and I'll just sip yummy coffee all day and put my feet up.
I am calm this morning, no ranting and raving happening here. PMS has passed and in its wake left a calm peaceful feeling. And even though I was ranting the other day, and said things I shouldn't, I don't regret it. I stand behind everything I said. I did have a period of feeling bad and almost, not quite apologized publically. But what stopped me from apologizing was the question kept pounding in my head...." Hold on, I appointed myself as the voice of the survivor around here. Why should I apologize because I took a different point of view from someone else?
Sure, I argued with myself, that at times disagreement is a good way to see things in a different way. But if I apologized wasn't I conceding that being politically correct is more important? That we have moved into the direction that things must be said in a lukewarm manner, it all must be whitewashed and correct. Well I personally disagreed with that. Yeah I know I can hear someone telling me that this is a big place here, we all have to get along and just cause I carry a big stick, doesn't mean I can use it. Damn. Well these are my thoughts this morning. I doubt they will be the cause of anyones gray hairs today.
So goes another spin in these Day's of My Life.
I am fired up over a post on the board from a newbie about her father.Maybe I have reached a point where my saturation level for the sucky attitudes of family members of stroke survivors has maxed out. I'm tired of hearing the whining how stroke has inconvienced their lives. Now before I get blasted from the other side, I know stroke affects everyone. But as a survivor that lived with that attitude from my X and his parents, I take a huge offense to it and it *beep* me off!
Yes, the stroke affects everyone in a hundred different ways and is a sure fire pain, but bottom line is the simple fact that the survivor never asked for a stroke, the survivor can't shrug their shoulders and walk away from the after affects of their stroke for a short restorative break.
In stroke recovery there is alot of hard work and time needed to recover. Yeah, finding the solution all can live with isn't easy. I know that. But when I hear the "other side" the ones that are not the survivor complaining how it isn't easy or the survivor isn't happy or trying, well HELLO! I want to say in full anger..."Well to bad! So sorry, your life isn't perfect and neatly packaged smooth running machine you are used to. Stroke survivors are human beings! We didn't suddenly turn into lumps of clay that lost all intelligence or thoughts or feelings. we understand the depths of how the family is feeling over what to do now? We have this huge boulder hanging around our necks, dragging us down, lets find the easiest way out to deal with this. One that appears that we are doing all we sincerely can, but in reality, it is just a quick fix that lets us off the hook so we can go back to our lives as soon as we can. In fairness not every family member feels that way, I know this. It is the small percentage that do, that I have a problem with, and I say "Why bother??"
Like I said I may have reached my saturation point. I may no longer be able to stay here and give support to such unworthy specimans of the human race. Because I too have a life to live, a life to get back too. Why bother wasting my time on idiots? Why should I willingly take on these boulders myself?I see it if I can help someone, it is only right the next person step up to the plate and give back what they have taken.
It is the 28th of November today. This morning I've been thinking of tides and change. Lately the only constant in my life seems to be change. I know, change is good, positive, growth encouraging, blah blah. I don't want to hear the platitudes, I'm bored by them all.
Back to change. I'm going to move. I'm giving up this apartment, it is too expensive. I'm going to move where I can get mass transportation. where I can afford to live, some place warm. New York state is to damn expensive.
Ok, enough justifying it. I can't stand depending on my parents, I hate the thought that they have any say in what I do each week. I have a major case of wanderlust. When will I ever grow up????? What image am I trying to create? Who am I? I do not have orange hair although I have remade myself over enough lately. I can't continue to keep changing personalities like I change my underwear. I'm loosing sight of who I am, and I hope I find what it is I'm searching for.
Well this has turned into a long ramble. Nuff said
I woke up at 5 a.m. this morning. As I walked by the kitchen window that faces west, and it had snowed! The snow sparkled and glistened in the glow of the flood light that lights the parking lot. I paused for a few seconds to soak up the feeling of the season's first snow, holding off on pushing the button on the coffee pot.
It seems no matter how old I get, the sight of the first snow is a beautiful thing. All the trees are redressed in white, their forms outlined sharply against the background. Suddenly each tree becomes important as they seem to pop from the landscape. I notice trees for the first time and idly think, "Where'd that tree come from?" It is the same kind of jolt that I used to get when I'd change a room around and it felt all new and exciting again, unexpected.
So, my bladder reminded me to get a move on, I pushed the button on the coffee pot and headed for the bathroom. I was talking to Petey the Pom, sharing with him the news it snowed. Made my cup of coffee, and put my coat on. Now I have slippers on my feet, I stepped down on the first step carefully. Got on the patio, no mishaps. Set my cup of joe on the table. Stood up straight and breathed in. Yup, crisp fresh snow filled morning air, it was still snowing. The sun hasn't come up yet, it was still dark, I sat down at the table and listened to it snow. Snow has a way of muffling sounds, yet one can still hear the slight whispering sound it makes as it comes down. At the moment I felt isolated, cut off from the rest of the world.
Petey is chasing the cat, he's feeling frisky in the snow, the cat is confused.
I take my first sip of coffee, yummmmmm. Good and hot and strong. I realized that feeling was in the air. The one of anticipation, that this time of the year is special. The feelings have a life of their own, their own vibration. Why is that I wonder? Is it the weather? Carry over feelings from childhood? Because it is a holiday? Because we are creeping ever closer to that dreaded holiday? Well no matter why, I still appreciated the morning, the impressions I had. I felt rejuvenated suddenly, empowered. Plus it gave me something to blog about and a good reason to reflect on things.
OK, Vix started me on these thoughts of yearning. She shared about new shoes and not having to wear sneakers any longer. I could relate big time.
I want to get dressed up in dressy clothes again, pants that have a zipper and some sort of button or hook. I want to wear heels. I want to hear myself walking tap tap tap on a wood floor. I want the few inches heels temporarily give me.
Yes, I guess I am missing the part of my life that dressing up makes me feel good about myself. The feeling of power or the feeling that I am dressed for sucess. I used to like wearing certion outfits cause they made feel good, not to mention gave me false views of myself.
I too once had heels that were red with tall thin heels, had em in black too. I miss that part of my pre stroke life. This is one of the few things I actually yearn for, I actually truely miss. It took me a very long time to give away all my dress clothes I used for work, gave the shoes away too. I think pulling a fingernail off one at a time would have been less painful and easier to cope with. But it has taken me more then five minutes to write this, enough looking back. One day, I'll go to Macy's and buy real shoes and a real outfit.
Alexandria P. is my youngest. She is 8 years old today. I talked to her on the phone this morning, she proudly told me she is now all grown up. "Gee, really? I asked her, all grown up to do what?" She just about crowed into the phone, get married. I hope she loses that thought for at least another 2 decades.
Now many may find it hard to believe, but that child is worse attitude wise then I am. I acquired my attitude over the years, she was born with hers. Alex's attitude is balenced with sweetness and charm.
I know I am doing what every mother does on a childs birthday and think back to the day I gave birth to her. It was a rough birth, she went into fetal distress and the acid levels in her heart and lungs was sky high, she was on oxygen for days after she was born and in a glass incubator. I had her by emergency C-section, so I didn't get to hold her for the first 8 hours. But all has turned out well and I cannot believe she is 8 already, or thinking of marriage. One day she asked me very seriously if I minded if she never had a baby? I told her not at all, if she didn't want to that was fine with me. I don't remember thinking of babies and marriage as a child, she baffles me at times.
Happy birthday Alex