I knew I forgot something...

Silly me, I forgot to put sleep down on the healthy lifestyle changes. Must have been the insomnia's doing. I only got about 2 hours of sleep last night. Normally not a problem except I'm working until 9:00pm tonight and then have to study for my New England Flora quiz. Whose brilliant idea was it again to make scientific names Latin? (Don't even start Sparrow....I'll give the kids pixie sticks and Mountain Dew, and a drum set, I mean it.) Ugh!

Another round

It is almost 11:00pm. I should be tucked away in bed fast asleep. Yeah, right. Instead, my latest round of insomnia has kicked in to join the anxiety attacks I've been having. Trying to change my approach though.

First off, I'm starting to wean myself off of coffee. Scary for those of you who know I generally have a Dunkin Donuts cup attached on an almost constant basis. I'm not crazy enough to quit cold turkey...no one should have to suffer through me when I do. So only one cup today. I switched to water, tea and herb tea (No I have not been taken over by an alien) I even cut the amount of sugar in my regular tea.

I'm currently researching diet changes I can make, as well as supplements that might help level things out emotionally and physically. So back to the healthy eating thing. (Though I refuse to give up chocolate...it is one of the few vices I indulge in) And now that it is warmer out and my feet are improving, I can start walking. I really want to go right back to running but I have to balance out the endorphin rush with being able to walk. So moderation (No really, I haven't been taken over by aliens)

Of course, my work schedule, including school and volunteer stuff is still nuts. I'm laying some groundwork which will make both the schedule and me more sane...I hope. But here's the real kicker. Prepare to be amazed...or frightened, whatever.

I've promised myself that for every stressful thing I do, even if it is a good thing, necessary at the moment, etc. I'm going to do something, even a little thing I enjoy and that let's me focus on the good stuff in life. So here I am writing in my blog. I just finished the second of two watercolors I'm working on for school. (Yes I'm painting Mona!) I've got seed planted and I'm researching composting and square foot gardening. I've got part of the design for my business cards sketched out. I've got lots of little stuff that makes me happy. Okay cleaning my desk isn't one of them...I figure I'll just plan a dinner party so I have to clean it to use the dining room table...otherwise known as my disaster area. The best part, is I can refocus on anyone of them when the anxiety attacks start or the insomnia hits. Thinking happy thoughts doesn't help much but doing things that make me happy seems to be a workable plan. And my brain goes happily along with it. Trixy aren't I?

PS. If anyone would like paintings, I'm happy to oblige. I'll try to post pictures once my digital camera is charged and running.

Rolling Thunder Events

This Sunday is going to be crazy. The dedication of the site for the Gold Star Mother memorial is in the morning. Then there is a related event at the Epping American Legion Hall for providing information about the impact of Agent Orange on Vietnam Vets. Crazy in and of itself. But there is one more event I have to attend after that.

Monday is the funeral services for the Army medic from New Hampshire. Rolling Thunder has requested as many members attend as possible to support the family as well as a request for any other Gold Star families to attend. Lucky me, I fall into both and I have a flexible work schedule. Normally I avoid funerals, especially military funerals like the plague. But I feel I am supposed to go to this one. I don't know why. Gotta love it when that happens.

At least I can go to mass on Saturday. And now I have to sign out...before Mackenzie loses my blog.

"Only the dead have seen the end of war"

I spent all weekend trying to avoid the news. All last week, the news was reporting the approaching 4000 dead mark for the war in Iraq. Discussions about what significance reaching that number will have on the war effort, the peace movement, etc. Today, the news reports spoke of the 4000 number having been reached. The war still continues as do the arguments both for and against it. The only ones who are beyond it are the dead.

It is the living who have not seen the end to it. Those who are still serving in harms way. Those whose families eagerly await emails from loved ones even as they dread the one message no one wants to receive. Those who received that message, whose hearts carry love and pain in equal measure to their loss. Those who were injured in Iraq, still trying to battle their way back to some type of normal life, those that never will. Those who stand by helpless to heal their loved ones, body mind or soul. Those who have served, returned home and yet are forever changed.

All these have been touched by war, many have stood in the shadow of death. None are the same. Not even the dead. They are merely freed from this war. So today, I pray for the dead, but even more, I pray for the living. May they find the grace and peace they need to heal from the scourge of war. May we find better paths to follow than war.

Sometimes I hate the world

It's late. I just got home from training foster parents. Of course, the video tape we were supposed to use went wonky....not my fault, it was never in my possession. So Jane and I improvised and used another of the videos. This one tells what it's like to be in foster care from the perspective of a young child who has been through many placements...something that isn't supposed to happen anymore, but sadly does. I try to prepare myself ahead of time when we're going to show it. It always gets to me...I can't help but remember all the families I worked with years ago. I wonder how those kids are doing now and pray they are safe and loved at the very least. I didn't really have time to prepare myself, but managed to get through it. And then the group discussed it, which lead to a conversation that broke my heart.

One of the children in care was just about to be adopted. This child has literally been through Hell. But something went wrong...again. So this little one will be moved again and we start over. I can't imagine suddenly saying I don't want a child that I had been caring for for months. I can't understand how anyone can do that. Of course, in my heart, I can't grasp why anyone would harm a child. I can understand what happens in some cases intellectually, but right now...I'm not in that place. Right now, I want to scream at the injustice of a world where this happens. My only solace is I know the people who will help this little one through it. They are all angels, I swear.

But right now, I hate the world where this is even an issue. So I will go to bed with a mug of tea and my book, and read, and cry, and pray. And tomorrow, I'll remind myself of what someone told me not long ago...that I wouldn't do what I do if it wasn't for the fact that I really did love the world.

Too Many Hours in the Day

It is about 4:45 pm. I've got about ten minutes to regroup, grab the appropriate work bag and head back out the door. I left this morning at 6:15 am and have been going since. I'd love nothing more than to settle in on the couch with a mug of tea, a good book and the puppy. But alas, I have to go provide training for foster parents until 9:00 tonight.

There are definitely too many hours in the day, at least today. Of course, by the time I get home tonight, I'll be thinking there are too few hours left in the day to get anything more done. Truly sick and twisted I know, but it is how my mind works. Oh well, no rest for the wicked...and all that. Sigh.

St. Patrick's Day - The REAL Story

If you read yesterday's blog, you know that my roommate went to the Pub while I was slaving away at work. She even brought back a Guinness glass to add insult to injury. Imagine my surprise when I checked my blog comments this afternoon.

It turns out she was really mugged while leaving the gym after work. Some terrible leprechaun forced the glass of Guinness on her. Of course, she had to drink it. Then she dusted herself off and hurried home to let our poor puppy out. I believe her, don't you?

Of course, that doesn't explain where the bright green Guinness sticker on the fridge. Or why a leprechaun would pick a nice Scottish/English girl to give Guinness too. Especially when there is a nice Irish girl around. Maybe the leprechaun is planning on bringing some Guinness home Friday night, especially since I'm pretty sure that some fairy drank all the beer in the house. Seems only fair right?