Me…unapologetically?

24 Nov

E59097E4-D635-4673-BCB6-992A478420FBThis blog post isn’t a woe is me post. It’s definitely not a feel bad for me or give me attention post.  It’s just a this is how I’m feeling post. A you may not be alone post. Maybe quite possibly, I am not alone post.

I spent the night before Thanksgiving working. For those who do not know I am a Pediatric ICU nurse. While I had my own patient to take care of, I spent a part of my 7P to 7a hanging with a boy who I’ve spent most of my nursing career taking care of.  He was very known to us.  Yes..was.  Because although his nurse, our Doc and the rest of us pulled together to save a life, his wasn’t meant to be saved that night.  Although his mom was unable to be there in his last moments we were. I held his hand and I told him what Heaven would be like.  I seriously hope the God doesn’t make a liar out of me.  I told him it was lots of pizza and that he’d finally be able to play ball, maybe even ride a bike.  I even said at 15 he could quite possibly pick up a gal or two with that handsome face of his.  I don’t know if he heard me, or heard any of us tell him it was ok to go. But he did go, surrounded by us…his nurses.  We prayed him up to Heaven. It was bittersweet because he isn’t in pain and he is no longer bed ridden with no quality of life.  However on the other hand…who wants to end their shift with the death of a child and post mortem care.  It’s not something I could easily shake for the day.   I mean, don’t get me wrong. I was thankful to be with my family and love up on my kiddos. But I was exhausted.  All I wanted was a little sleep in a dark room and to emerge feeling better.  However it really go as expected.   I emerged with the “put your big girl pants on and tuck it away”  attitude, knowing full well, I’m a terrible tuck-er.  This isn’t always easy on the people around me…and so I struggle.

See, I’ve been struggling lately with this question of who am I.   Funny part is…I know exactly who I am.  I’m the same chick I was 50 pounds ago.  The lighthearted but emotional gal with a naughty sense of humor.  I wear my heart on my sleeve though and that is not a gift…at least I don’t consider it as such these days.  There are parts of me that are deeper that few see or will ever understand but I think that’s ok.   Unfortunately, there are people who see me as something other than who I am, but not in a good way.  And although I’m not perfect, I’m not malicious or evil.  I may indulge in wine and tequila sometimes, which doesn’t make me less classy or an alcoholic.  However I suppose the lesson in all of this to me is that I’m not supposed to care what people think of me.  I’m supposed to do my own thing and be my own person and the right people will love me.  I know I have people who love me and I am thankful.  But really…I just can’t understand those who are hateful. Those who hurt others,   It’s not one person specifically, just a string of small things.  The small things add up.  They either add up in a good way or a bad way.  Yesterday just kind of tipped the scale for me the wrong way.

So today, I realize that I can’t turn back time.  I can’t make control how people see me.  I can’t control the parts of me that others see.  I can’t control others ignoring me.  I certainly can’t control those who don’t like me very much.  And I have to learn that I have to let go of that or I’m going to be one miserable chick.  That’s not me…and I don’t intend to let it be.  I want to be the kind, loving, full frontal hugging chick with the naughty sense of humor.  The one with sarcasm and wit that not everyone has to understand.  I want to be me…the one who has parts tucked away unseen but grateful keep to myself.  The one who will always love words…poetry, quotes, perhaps some mythology and yes, even smutty novels and stories.  I will be the one who wants to write and connect with others.   And that will be me.  I will still wear my heart on my sleeve…and hopefully the right people will love and understand me.

What does this mean?  Well, I think that we all just need to flock to our own crazies.  If i’m not one of your liked people…then leave me alone. Don’t be my friend on Facebook, Instagram…. or in real life… Just leave me be.   If I am then, l…I’ve got jokes for days.  No one needs fake friends or people in their life.  So if reading this helps you realize this…if one person  can read this and say…”This bitch is crazy but she makes sense!” , then I’ve done my job.  I unfortunately can’t make others be less of a dick, but I’m sure we can all gain some balls to let go of people like that.

I do know that some people don’t mean to be like that. I can usually differentiate,  but once in a while…its a little overwhelming.

So, consider this a post Thanksgiving “Thank you” for everyone in my life who sees me.  For those who see all of me and accept it.  I’ll keep you right in my ticker…

Until next time…

DP Babbles

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I get it… really I do…

11 Nov

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So these past few weeks I’ve been really dissecting myself. I’ve been thinking about my relationships with others and how my character flaws could be my undoing, my own little Greek tragedy. But then, we all have character flaws.  That’s kind of the point of it. I don’t think it makes any of us victims, it just is what it is. I think taking responsibility for your flaws make life more tolerable. Like, yeah bitch…sometimes I suck, I just do. And that’s life, because we all suck sometimes. (I’m so eloquent, I know…) . Shouldn’t we just be able to do that and move on?

Am I the only one who overthinks about the things they do and say and then feels dumb about it for the longest time? I do that. Sometimes to the point where I’d like to cuddle up under the covers and not talk to anyone?  Or I just keep talking and make it worse. I never mean to…but it happens.

I could be a lot to take at times.  I’m a fusser. I run my mouth. I worry about people  and their well being. I want to make things better. I want them to succeed.  This really could sound like total bullshit, but I actually mean my own bullshit. I care, and when I care…I care big. I’m sure it’s overwhelming for some. I’m trying not to give a shit, but I do. True damn story.

Here’s another one: Are you mad at me? Are you mad at me? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.  This one I’m trying to work on. I’m an expert at apologizing when I didn’t do anything.  And then when I have done something, I over apologize more. Sometimes I find myself apologizing when I’m actually owed an apology.  I actually have a backbone, but the pleaser in me wants to smooth life over. And it’s dumb. Because I deserve better than that. Am I my alone in this? I know many people like this. And I know they feel the same.

I’m a piece-y texter. I text in scattered thoughts. For those who don’t do that, I could be considered the ultimate thorn.  But again, im not the only one.  And I never mind, but some people mind. And some accept my flaw just fine, while others don’t.

I worry about what others think of me. I feel like I could ruin a friendship by doing one thing wrong. That being imperfect isn’t allowed or accepted. That should never be the case… if so, I think it’s time for new friends. And I think that but then immediately it’s my fault.  And I’m going to make it better. So I say something stupid and then want to crawl under a blanket. It’s an exhausting vicious cycle.

Sometimes, I run my mouth with hurtful sarcasm. Or I just know how to say the thing that’s going to set someone off. I never mean to cause a ruckus, but it happens. Do I think I’m alone…nope. But somehow,  I do.

This all goes back to the “I’m not perfect” attitude. If I fuck up, please tell me. I’m going to fuck up. We all are. But be respectful…have respect to tell me. And treat me with respect. Am I really the only one who feels that way? If you messed up and didn’t do the right thing, apologize damn it…and mean it!! Communication is a funny thing these days.  I’m not apologizing for breathing any longer and nor should you…but you should feel respected and loved by the people in your circle.  If not, find a new circle.

I read quotes a lot. I have favorites just as some songs would show how my heart beats. I love words. That’s not my flaw…it’s makes up the best parts of me.

Tonight as I was taking care of a patient’s son it kind of inspired me to write.  She was with her significant other and she looked at me and said “I’m really sorry I kept asking questions and being worried. I’m trying not to be a helicopter mom. I’m sorry…”  So I told her “It’s perfectly fine. You’re his mom, you’re supposed to worry. If that’s what a pain is, then as women, we are all pains in the ass.” And she giggled while her S.O.  laughed heartily. “Not all of you are pains in the ass, crazy maybe, but not pains in the ass. Without batting an eyelash I said “We’re not crazy, our reality is just different than yours!” And she lit up and said “down the rabbit hole…we all have a rabbit hole. Thank goodness for a Alice, right?”  Magic…only because somehow it’s been popping up lately in life for me over and over.

So here’s the down and dirty:

I’m not telling you what to do, but know it’s ok to admit you have flaws…and learn and grow from them.

No one is perfect…but for fuck’s sake… it would be nice to get an apology when you screw up. It’s ok to say I’m sorry I hurt you.  I’m sorry I disrespected you.  At the same time, you can’t allow people to disrespect and hurt you over and over…know your limits.

Make an effort for your people. Life gets busy, but really… a small effort goes a long way.

Don’t let go of those who see your magic. I’m so lucky to have people who have magic in my life. And while We’re at it.. tell them. If you see magic, don’t forget to tell them, you never know what’s going on behind the scenes. That could mean the world to them.

I’d like to believe there is magic in me… I think I’d like to believe there’s more magic than flaws.

I suppose all we can do is just keep trucking along… let me know if you need some magic.  I’ll find it in you…I promise.

Until Next Time,

DP Babbles

 

 

 

 

 

Brutal Honesty

12 Oct

 

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I haven’t written anything lately.  I haven’t felt I’ve had much to say.  And I’ve poured my heart into another writing  project which has given me writer’s block three paragraphs in.  Not because I don’t know what I have in mind for this project, but because I can’t seem to get it all started the way I want.  I’m trying too hard.  And the brutal truth…is that sometimes trying too hard makes it even harder than it has to be.  And that got me thinking that maybe I have something to say after all.  And for you all, not for my little pet project that I’ll eventually rock when I let go and let it flow.  Writing puts it all out there to be judged.  Putting out your most vulnerable is the hardest thing you can do.  People can break that shit in a second.   Not the funny dirty jokes that I can spin  a hundred different ways, but letting out your talent.  What if its not good enough?  What if my words don’t matter? What if no one cares what I have to say.

And then it kind of put today into perspective for me.  I woke up in a totally shitty mood.  My son wouldn’t get up he was crying about how tired he was.  It was weigh in/ measurements day and it just kept going  in that shitty direction.  I got to Orange Theory to workout, no caffeine, no BCAAs, not even time for a banana. I started working out and 13 minutes in…I couldn’t get it going.  40 is looming for me at the end of the month and my one damn goal that I’ve been working my ass off for, isn’t happening.  So as I made an honest attempt at a one block at a time effort, I felt the tears coming.  And there’s no way I’m letting that out there, so I excused myself and left.  I showed up…I showed up and I was determined but my body kept saying no.  So now I felt even shittier than my morning started.  You think I went home and ate some breakfast…nope.  I fell into bed and went right back to sleep hoping to wake up with a better attitude.  I have barely given myself a day off.  I even wallowed my way to my favorite bakery with the kids and thought my very favorite lemon cupcake would be waiting for me…and she was sold out of them when I got there.  I mean…for fucks sake, I haven’t had one in months. Lesson learned that not even a lemon cupcake is going to solve my “champagne” problems.

Tonight after some thought and this nice glass of pinot grigio.  I am starting to realize that I’m trying too hard.  I love the workout and I enjoy every one.  But I’m starving myself accidentally at times, and not listening to my body.  So, I may be stronger.  But I realize I have to let go a little and actually enjoy the journey.  When did I stop enjoying the journey????   Brutal honesty: When I started trying too hard. When every crumb was a guilt trip and this wine that sits next to my bed became my enemy.   They aren’t…brutal honesty. Brutal honesty, I need to calm the hell down and take a sip of my wine.  When running became about speed and not fun.  And we all hella know I’m not ever competing for speed.  But my obsession with becoming better, made it worse.  My obsession with 4 lbs has made me crumb counting lunatic.

I have put my heart into so many things and given it my all.  I’m a ” no give up” kind of gal.   I realize that its ok to take care of yourself. It’s important to have big goals, but destroying your sass over it is absolutely no bueno.  I got some answers from the peeps that help me with my nutrition, and I’m feeling better.  I’m sketch about it now, but I have a plan.  But the biggest part of my plan is to let go of the reigns a little.  Enjoy the process and to actually let my body improve and heal and do its thing.  I’ve come a long way.

Do you ever notice how you try so hard for something and the more you try, the worse you feel.  We make these promises, we write down goals, we dream…and we hold on tight to those things like they are unbreakable and iron clad.  The truth…our truth?  We’re broken. All of us are.  We’re not perfect.  And life changes and sometimes we just have to let go, breathe and enjoy it.  Everyone wants to deny the broken, but not me.  That’s why I’m here telling you I ran out of a workout to go cry myself to sleep in bed.  Not because I want sympathy or I want you to say, “God that Donna is one fucking crazy bitch!”  Brutal honesty, if you look deep, you are me too. We all have those days,  Maybe you arent going back to bed. (and no, thats not my norm) Maybe you are able to tuck it away. Maybe for you it comes out in the shower. Maybe when out on your run.  It’s ok to not be brave all the time.  It’s ok to let it out,  and then pull your shit together and let go.

So, from here on out, I’m going to do my best to not be obsessed with a number.  I mean turning 40 in an few weeks makes me think back to 30.  250 lbs and sad because that wasn’t where I wanted to be.  I can honestly say I found love for myself at 40.  I have legs that run, arms that lift, and a heart full with people I love.  I have so much…that 4lbs doesn’t matter.  What makes my heart full and my eyes happy…that’s what matters.  And those are the things that have to find a way. I am not defined by the number on the scale.  I am hoping to be defined by kindness, my sass and the love in my heart.  Brutal honesty… also it would help if I looked kick ass in a dress and heels, but first things first.  I want my joy back…happy eyes, before I was trying too hard to change a number.

I always worry about how my writing comes across.  But if I can help one person through this post, then I’ve done my job.

Know you’re never alone and that there are people like me out there who will love you for your broken…and never judge it.  Those people are keepers in life,  never cast away your keepers, people.  They are rare…

Until next time…

DP Babbles

I am…

30 Aug

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I am. Two words. Two powerful words. The start of a sentence that could end several ways.  Two words that can give identity, describe a feeling, or tell a story.  Is there a right answer, though?  What is the right way to finish a sentence that starts with “I am”?  I wish I knew, but these are the “I am” statements that I’ve heard lately.

I am shattered.

I am not doing very well.

I am in a rut.

I am strong.

I am grateful.

I am wishing.

I am lost.

No, these aren’t all mine.  I really have heard most of these from others. However, we all question the ‘I am”.  And if you listen…people are trying to tell you what they are.  After a pretty rough summer dealing with what seems to be a never ending injury I wish would go the hell away.  This is what I am.

I am resilient.  I have times when I feel broken, but I will pick up and get through.  There is no other way to do it.  There is no giving up.

I am worthy.  I am worthy of being loved, thought of, cared for and yes, even missed. I am worthy of being strong. I am worthy of being happy.  Of being sure of myself. of loving without conditions and of having supportive friends and family when the going gets tough. I am worthy of being seen and accepted.  I am worthy of whatever identity that makes my heart beat true.

I am grateful.  For every experience and person who makes up the pieces of my heart.  I am grateful for every tear shed. For every memory that makes me smile.  Those pieces are there forever.  They make me who I am.

I am working on it.  There is no part of my story that ends with, I can’t. There is just work. Lots of work.  Lots of internal reflection. Tons of knowing the difference between holding on to things and letting go.

I am imperfect.  And I don’t pretend to be anything else.  Being imperfect means that I am a work in progress.  There is always something to strive for.

I am hopeful.  I am hopeful that I can accomplish everything I’ve ever wanted.  I am hopeful that things will make sense one day.  I am hopeful that I will be strong.

I am positive.  Positive that sometimes I’m not positive about anything.  But that everyday I take steps to rid my internal dialogue of negative.

I am capable.  of doing whatever my heart desires. Of climbing the mountains of my doubts and seeing what the view of overcoming them look like.  I hear the view from the top is breathtaking.

The truth is that I am not just these things, I am so much more.  The secret is, you are made up of all these things too.  I am inviting you to take my hand and climb to the top of the mountain.  I want you to see what the view looks like, too.

Don’t let the “I am nots” define you.  Life is more than all of the things you aren’t.  Love the people who see who you really are.  We are here for only a small amount of time…too fleeting for you not to show who you really are.

 

Until next time…

DP Babbles

 

 

Perception is Everything

15 Jul

 

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Perception: defined as a way of regarding, understanding, or interpreting something; a mental impression.
No matter how we perceive things, they say the that the world doesn’t revolve around us. Truthfully, I’m still over here trying to figure out who the hell “they” are. Sometimes, I’d like to take “them” out back and beat ’em for the ridiculous things “they” say.  However for every 20 pieces of utter garbage that “they” spit out, this is the one true statement.  I think we all caught up in it every now and again.  So it’s a valid reminder, sometimes, for us to get our head out of our asses and realize that maybe some things have nothing to do with us.

Yes, even a perfect saint  (insert eye roll here) like me gets caught up in being the center of the universe…and when I realize I’m doing it, I loathe myself for a bit.

So, let me remind you of some times that you may have thought it was all about you…but it’s really not. You’re just not that cool, peeps…and quite frankly neither am I.

When that person treated you like garbage. It’s really not about you. People who tear down and hurt you… it’s about them.  It’s about how they feel about themselves.  So when someone is ugly and treating you that way, try and remember that it’s because they’re feeling pretty ugly inside. Shit, they may actually just be that damn ugly on the inside. You just have to feel sad for them.  Yep, I know just how shitty some people can make you feel, but try and let it roll off your back. (If you figure out the secret to this, call me….k????)  The world may not revolve around  you, and the asshole induced feelings may mess with your mojo, but dig deep for the kind spirit that’s inside. If that doesn’t work, kick ’em in the shin (just don’t tell  anyone I said to).

When the closest people in your life are going through something. Take a deep breath and repeat these words… “It’s not all about me!”  And probably, mostly, it’s not. Sometimes the people in our lives can just focus on what they can. Sometimes life sucks for them…not just you. Feeling ignored? Hey genius, maybe they don’t multitask the way you do. Stop getting your panties in a wad. You’re just going to have to be patient. It doesn’t mean they don’t love you or care, it means they are doing the best they can. You can offer your support, your love, and your understanding. Don’t be a pain in the ass. I’m also bad at this. You’re not the only one who mucks everything up. But the beauty of true friendships and special connections are, they always remain. If not, then it wasn’t special or true to begin with. So…be accepting, and giving and patient.

How about the person who thinks everything is their fault. Hey, Pisano….even you are not the center of the universe. Nope…not EVERYTHING is your fault.  Stop apologizing for being the reason why there are earthquakes and floods. It’s not about you. Take responsibility for being a douche canoe and be done with it. You did not ruin every person’s life on the planet. Stop apologizing.

Listen…perceptions is everything.  The glass is not half empty, it’s half full…of tequila.  Just stop the madness,  take the shot already. The best part of that, you can refill the glass. Hug it out, stop apologizing for breathing and work on some positives.

On the other hand…whether you’re the asshole, the distant person, the person who’s sorry for breathing.  You are seen…someone values you (yes, even you, asshole), someone worries about you and loves you. While they are deep  breathing, you deep breathe too, and take it in. In today’s world, I promise that life is always going to suck sometimes. True friendship and connections seem to be father and fewer and things will always be busy. A little effort will always go a long way. It’s all in what you make of it. So value the asshole who values you, even in their full pain in the ass glory.

And really I’m not telling you what the hell to do. I only know what works for me…and even that could be a total crock. So, maybe this resonates, maybe not.

Either way I’m still over here, cheering y’all on. Doesn’t my cheerleadering get up look amazing? Those legs are sexy as hell, right? See, I told you…perception is everything.

Until next time,

DP Babbles

and remember

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I’m perfect!

1 Jul

IMG_0548I’ve been thinking about perfection a whole lot lately. What it means to me, what it doesn’t. I think I’ve been striving for perfection for a long time. I’m not quite sure why.  So many seem to want perfect. A perfect body. Perfect children. Perfect life. Perfect…well…everything. I’m thinking for a long time I’ve wanted perfect.  Or for a long time I’ve been wanting to be seen as perfect. And I am perfect. Absolutely perfect. So you’re wondering just why I think I’m perfect. Let me sit on this throne of mine and tell you.

I’m perfect at overthinking. If there’s a girl out there who’s perfected overthinking, it could be me. The wheels turn about everything and anything.  Sometimes it keeps me up. Sometimes it’s not even warranted. My imagination is amazing apparently. Put that together with overthinking and I assure you I can come up with a great story.

I’m a perfectly messed up mom. Sometimes when I work overnight, my kids stay in their pajamas and play electronics until I can muster enough strength to get out of bed.  Sometimes, I forget to ask them if they brushed their teeth. And most of the time I cuss too much.

I’m perfect at pointing out every imperfection I have. (Can you tell?) I can point out the parts of my body that I long to improve. I can perfectly tell you I won’t wear shorts because my legs make me feel insecure. Feel better yet?

I’m perfect at being quiet when I’m upset, but equally perfect at running my awkard mouth when I’m dying inside and worried.  My coworkers will tell you they don’t know what to do with me when I’m quiet. As a matter of fact, a little while back, the supervisor of our environmental services came to check our floor, took one look at me and said. “I gotta leave. I don’t even know what to do with this mess. I’ll come back when you get your bubbly back.  I can’t watch you not be bubbly!” And he really did leave. And he squints one eye when he looks at me now, just to feel me out. Geez, can’t a chick have a bad day?

I’m perfect at doubting what I can accomplish. It’s only for a second or two but when I struggle…it’s real.

So let’s really get real now.  Do you see where I’m going with this? Fuck perfect!!!!!! I’m done with it.

Perfect. Is. Boring.

I’m never going to be perfect. No one is. The only thing I’m perfect at…is being anything but perfect.

I’m perfectly imperfect and wish nothing other than to be accepted for being that way. And if you can’t accept me for that…I’ll be fine eventually.  And I realize these things. I actually bet you may recognize them in yourself.

I may not like certain parts of me. But I love me. I’m worth something. (and yes, so are you!!) So my legs aren’t my favorite part. You know what? I can tell you those same legs are stronger than they were a couple of years ago.   Maybe I won’t get to wear the shorts I want…but I’m still working hard to try.  So, look at your perfectly imperfect self, and I bet if you take an honest look…you too will find strength.

I’m never going to be a perfect mom. And I don’t think I really want to be. I want my kids to know that perfect is boring and that sometimes, it’s ok to sit in your boxers and pjs til 2pm because mommy is going to be a crotchety old bag if you don’t.  And I’m always going to be the sarcastic mom, but that same mom will always make sure her kids feel loved.

Somedays I’m going to be quiet and hard to read. Some days I’m going to text in awkward pieces  and you’ll know I’m just having a hard time. Sometimes I’m going to mouth off and be angry. And know that I’m perfectly imperfect at being angry…angry means crying for me. Some days I’ll be able to keep up with your humor, some days I won’t.  And guess what… it’s totally normal!

Here’s the important part. And I may be talking about myself, but this goes for all of you too! Here’s a letter that you can use to express how you feel. See, I’m gonna help you and give you a little gift.

To whom it may concern: (Just insert whoever the hell you want in here)

I’m never going to be perfect. But I’ve got a pretty perfectly imperfect heart and it’s got lots of love to offer. It’s the unconditional kind.  But sometimes it’s messy and sometimes it’s quiet. It’s sometimes overwhelmed and sometimes scared of it’s own shadow. Sometimes even angry just to throw another somethin’ somethin’ to keep you on your toes. I repeat…   I’m never going to be perfect. Which is good, that means you’ll never be bored. And sometimes I’ll say the wrong thing because this mouth of mine is just as imperfect as the rest of me. But it’s me and I’m not sorry for it. I’m a take me as I am or leave me the hell alone kind of (chick/dude…you can print it out and circle the proper gender if you want). In turn, I’ll accept you just the way you are… as long as you are respectful of my imperfections.

Respectfully and with love,

(Jill or Joe Schmo)

You can feel free to use this little ditty. The trick here, though, is that you have to be accepting of other’s imperfections.  Sometimes, we all forget that.  Sometimes, I forget that. (Because we aren’t perfect for crying out loud!!!)

So please…give me your messy, your imperfect…your real. Because everything else is crap and it’s boring as hell.

Until next time,

DP Babbles

A letter to my daughter about life…(that she can’t read because it has bad words in it)

30 May

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My daughter got into the car after school today. Tears just waiting to spill over. She was upset that she didn’t make safety patrol. This girl has been turned away from doing several things in school so far.  So, it gets harder and harder to tell her that life is like that.  Life is only going to get harder that way.  How do you tell your kids that?  How do you let them know life isn’t fair, but that everything will work out.  So this is what I’d propose to say to my kid, and you if you feel that way.

Dear Rae (and anyone else disappointed),

I know not making safety patrol feels like the end of the world today.  And I’m sorry. I couldn’t be more sorry. I’d like to tell you life is going to get less disappointing, but there will be several more disappointments along the road.  There are going to be times when you are riding high and perfection is right in front of you.  When the road ahead seems so clear.  And I promise that what you see will be real.  Don’t forget that feeling. Don’t forget to keep pushing towards that.

During the hard times, when you feel disappointed by life, know it’s not the end of the world.  It’s a lesson.  And sometimes the lessons suck, but sometimes there is true value in them.  But you have to feel the shitty parts of life…truly feel them to really feel the good stuff.  I mean, maybe now at 10 it doesn’t make much sense because its just safety patrol, or the dance team or friends being a bunch of a-holes.  But later on, it will be lots of other things. Career, finances, boys…oh for fuck’s sake, not those!!!!   I promise to have a container of ice cream for the boy stuff, or  maybe we can sit on the beach and you can cry on me.  I may have wine in my cup, and I may cry with you.  I’m good at crying and I’m not sorry about it.  I don’t want you to be sorry either.  I think its ok to cry.   It’s not weak to feel the feels.  It’s healthy, its healing and I promise to hug you through it.

What?!?!?!?  You don’t feel all healed up from the tears.   That’s ok too.  Life is all about showing up.  Pushing the line when it feels uncomfortable. There will be lots of lines to stretch.  Try hard not to cross the wrong ones.  But when you do feel the need to cross the line, make sure it’s something  that means something to you.  Tears don’t fix everything.  But they help.  Taking deep breaths and living life moment by moment…that heals.

I sometimes wonder why the hell life presents situations to us.  It’s like it’s says.. ” Look at this…perfect right? ”  and in the next breath it gives you a big “fuck you”.  You will have so many of these moments.  I can’t tell you I know what they mean.  I have no clue.  I’m certainly not a wise mom, I’m just me…shuffling through like you will be. Some will suck worse than others. Hold on to your perfect.  And in the same breath cherish your imperfect.  I’m not sure if this makes sense now.  But I just want to tell you that no matter what life is handing out, handling it will never be perfect, so just strive for perfectly imperfect.

Don’t let life’s disappointments make you pessimistic.  Because it’s easy to remember the shitty things that happen.  Try hard to focus on everything that went right.  Everything that you learned.  Focus on everything you love.  And hold on to that…make that work.  You can make anything work if you want it enough, especially when you have love in your heart.

Know that when it’s meant to be, it will be.  And whatever that “it” is, know its not on your timeline, it’s on life’s timeline.   I am a huge believer in spiritual things.  And I know things.  I believe in signs and I believe everything happens for a reason.   But here’s the thing you have to really pay attention to…it’s none of our business as to the “why”.  None of our damn business.  And you have to be ok with that.  (Stinks, right???)

I also want to tell you for all the disappointments, there is joy.  Eat it up.  Love. Make waves when it’s right.  Don’t bury the fire that burns inside of you.  That flame is so important.   It makes you…you and it’s not replaceable.  It’s what makes people love the real you.  And for Jake’s sake…be real and be you.  Everyone deserves to see the masterpiece that makes up you.

Enjoy your accomplishments, bask in your own glory.  You are a big deal, little lady (or random person reading this).  You are loved unconditionally…and forever by someone (namely me!).  You have so much to give…so much life to live. Climb the mountains, wallow in the valleys , but live.  And live true to your heart…not just what you think your supposed to do.

And just in case I didn’t tell you today…I am proud of you. So damn proud.  Even when you think I can’t be…I am. That’s what unconditional love is. It’s loving someone through the hard stuff.

Until Next Time,

DP Babbles