"Green and Gold"
Cheese curds, Cheeseheads
beer and brats
Tailgate munchies and full parking lots
Lambeau field, a legendary place
Vince Lombardi, Bart Starr,
Ray Nitschke, Reggie White
I might just run out of space
A new generation, new talented faces,
built on tradition and hallowed places
Yes it must be told....
"WE LOVE OUR GREEN AND GOLD"!!!!!!
Now did you expect me to write about anything else?! If you don't know the Green Bay Packers are playing in the SUPERBOWL! I have loved this team through good and bad, and am always proud to cheer them on. It would be great to win but I will be proud none the less of their season! It's a busy weekend, lots planned and of course the big game on Sunday. Stay warm, hope you're done shoveling, and have an awesome weekend....
Friday, February 4, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Impulse Driven
Last night while reading "Drinking a Love Story" I came across a line that I knew all too well.
"Active alcoholics have no tolerance for frustration, Zippo. We're totally impulse-driven. If we can't get what we think we need, we think we're going to die." Wow in just a few sentences she explained most of my life. I have this trait that if I think I want or need something I will obsess until I get it. I really couldn't take any form of frustration when I was actively drinking. One of the most famous lines out of my mouth used to be, "I can't handle this, I need a drink". That went for just about everything. If it was crazy at the supermarket, I went home and had a drink. If my kids were wound up and creating chaos, I had a drink. If traffic was bad, if work was demanding, if I had a fight with my husband, etc...you get the picture everything was grounds for a drink. And spending? Don't get me started. I would suddenly need this, or that, or I needed to stop at the grocerys tore for just one thing and it would turn into 50 things I didn't need. I could think of things to just waste money on. See being the "director, producer, and actor" of life requires things to run smoothly and when they didn't I couldn't tolerate any form of frustration so I would medicate and medicate quickly. Just think I wasted almost 25 years of my life this way. It's amazing but when I speak with other alcoholics we almost always say the same thing: it wasn't the big stuff that made us stumble it was all the little things that could topple us. Even knowing we were alcoholics wasn't enough to make us put down the drink. We just couldn't fathom life without our blanket even though this blanket came in the form of a bottle. Think of all the late night trips we made to liquor or gas station store just a few minutes before closing to ensure that we would have our booze handy. God forbid we suffer through something without being half in the bag. My eyes were always glassy, my face swollen and puffy and I would tell myself it's just that my life is too crazy and chaotic not to drink. Little did I know I was the fuel that fired that chaos. So how do you learn to deal with life on life's terms? For me it first started with lowering my expectations. To stop imagining that everything had to be perfect. Then I started to take one day at a time, one issue at a time. This was hard, I wanted to tackle everything at once. I learned to not expect anything and I wouldn't be disappointed. Finally I just let things unfold. I've learned to wait, to let things work out on their own. It's amazing how the old "impulse driven" self begins to fall into the background. Oh it rears it's ugly head once in a while but understanding that it's one of my traits helps me keep in more perspective than I used to. Perhaps not wanting to constantly chase dreams and fill an empty hole with alcohol makes the difference. Being content with what one has makes a difference also. There are times when life will deal up something that needs a quick decision, but being impulse driven can be destructive, it's much better to be spontaneous......
"Active alcoholics have no tolerance for frustration, Zippo. We're totally impulse-driven. If we can't get what we think we need, we think we're going to die." Wow in just a few sentences she explained most of my life. I have this trait that if I think I want or need something I will obsess until I get it. I really couldn't take any form of frustration when I was actively drinking. One of the most famous lines out of my mouth used to be, "I can't handle this, I need a drink". That went for just about everything. If it was crazy at the supermarket, I went home and had a drink. If my kids were wound up and creating chaos, I had a drink. If traffic was bad, if work was demanding, if I had a fight with my husband, etc...you get the picture everything was grounds for a drink. And spending? Don't get me started. I would suddenly need this, or that, or I needed to stop at the grocerys tore for just one thing and it would turn into 50 things I didn't need. I could think of things to just waste money on. See being the "director, producer, and actor" of life requires things to run smoothly and when they didn't I couldn't tolerate any form of frustration so I would medicate and medicate quickly. Just think I wasted almost 25 years of my life this way. It's amazing but when I speak with other alcoholics we almost always say the same thing: it wasn't the big stuff that made us stumble it was all the little things that could topple us. Even knowing we were alcoholics wasn't enough to make us put down the drink. We just couldn't fathom life without our blanket even though this blanket came in the form of a bottle. Think of all the late night trips we made to liquor or gas station store just a few minutes before closing to ensure that we would have our booze handy. God forbid we suffer through something without being half in the bag. My eyes were always glassy, my face swollen and puffy and I would tell myself it's just that my life is too crazy and chaotic not to drink. Little did I know I was the fuel that fired that chaos. So how do you learn to deal with life on life's terms? For me it first started with lowering my expectations. To stop imagining that everything had to be perfect. Then I started to take one day at a time, one issue at a time. This was hard, I wanted to tackle everything at once. I learned to not expect anything and I wouldn't be disappointed. Finally I just let things unfold. I've learned to wait, to let things work out on their own. It's amazing how the old "impulse driven" self begins to fall into the background. Oh it rears it's ugly head once in a while but understanding that it's one of my traits helps me keep in more perspective than I used to. Perhaps not wanting to constantly chase dreams and fill an empty hole with alcohol makes the difference. Being content with what one has makes a difference also. There are times when life will deal up something that needs a quick decision, but being impulse driven can be destructive, it's much better to be spontaneous......
Monday, January 31, 2011
Double Birthday Punch
Today my husband and middle child share a birthday. Samuel David entered this world on his father's birthday at 6:38 pm ten years ago today. After my husband cut the chord I looked at him and said, "Sorry I didn't get you a birthday card honey, but this will have to do instead". What a feeling. I was so much more relaxed the second time around. Sam was a big boy weighing in at 8lbs. 9 ounces and he was a happy content baby from the start. I remember the weather was really cold when we brought him home, something like -25 degrees but he was such a good baby that I didn't mind being stuck indoors all the time. Alex was in kindergarten all day and I was a stay at home mom at the time. He's grown up so much already. When he stands next to me he's only about a head shorter than me. Full of fourth grade knowledge and a very skilled Lego builder. My husband turns 47 today and I like teasing him that he's only three years til 50. How time flies. I try to remember my parents at this age, and it's a blurr. I just know my mom talks about what a blur her 40's and 50's were. I guess it's true that time flies faster as you get older. I've been reading Caroline Knapp's "Drinking A love Story'. I started this book early into my recovery, got sidetracked and just last week picked it up to finish it. I am glad it worked out that way as I can so relate to it so much more, having gone through the program of AA. There's a part when she talks about reaching the point where you just don't feel anymore. You are so tired, so beat up, so souless, that physical pain can't touch you. I know exactly what she is saying. I was so without feeling when I walked in. I mean don't get me wrong I had some feelings: anxiety, fear, isolation, etc... but as for emotion I felt colorless. Then of course you go through the rollercoaster ride of emotions those first few months, until you begin to walk an easier trail. Now I feel everything. I may not always like what I'm feeling but it's better than being void of everything. Friday was a crazy day and most everything that could go wrong did go wrong. I finally made it home, soaking wet thanks to the snow, ice cold feet, van full of groceries, a new mouse in tow, and a headache. I was met at the backdoor by Sam who was having a friend sleep over. No sooner did he tell me that the friend wasn't feeling well than his sister yell's that this friend had just thrown up. I sighed, set down my purse, and headed down the hallway. As I approached Sam's room I heard my daughter say, "It's OK my mom's coming, and she can fix anything". What a compliment! No I can't fix everything but I can feel everything, and I wouldn't have missed that awesome feeling she gave me for anything in the world!........
Friday, January 28, 2011
Flash 55 Friday
Disbelief...
We were talking in anticipation,
television turned on, it was
near lunchtime, and the yearbook
room was full. A teacher, the
first "commoner" to head into
space, we cheered as the launch
drew near, and finally the
countdown 4,3,2,1, and we
have lift off! Suddenly shouts of joy
turned to silent disbelief....
My children and I listened to a brother of one of the astronauts that died that fatefull day 25 years ago, speak on NPR this morning. He talked of his brother's strength and how he had overcome so many racial barriers in his life, and had made his dream of space flight come true. My oldest asked if I remembered when this happened and I replied, "like yesterday. I was the editor of my high school yearbook when this happened. We were all watching in the tiny upstairs room on the second floor. I had the sensation of my heart hitting bottom, and wanting to throw up all at once. We were stunned to say the least. No one spoke for a very long time. I can't believe it's been 25 years. It's hard to explain to your children at times that dreams can have a certain amount of risk, but there may come a time in your life when the "dream" will outweigh the risk...Have a blessed weekend....
We were talking in anticipation,
television turned on, it was
near lunchtime, and the yearbook
room was full. A teacher, the
first "commoner" to head into
space, we cheered as the launch
drew near, and finally the
countdown 4,3,2,1, and we
have lift off! Suddenly shouts of joy
turned to silent disbelief....
My children and I listened to a brother of one of the astronauts that died that fatefull day 25 years ago, speak on NPR this morning. He talked of his brother's strength and how he had overcome so many racial barriers in his life, and had made his dream of space flight come true. My oldest asked if I remembered when this happened and I replied, "like yesterday. I was the editor of my high school yearbook when this happened. We were all watching in the tiny upstairs room on the second floor. I had the sensation of my heart hitting bottom, and wanting to throw up all at once. We were stunned to say the least. No one spoke for a very long time. I can't believe it's been 25 years. It's hard to explain to your children at times that dreams can have a certain amount of risk, but there may come a time in your life when the "dream" will outweigh the risk...Have a blessed weekend....
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
One shot Wednesday
Middle Child
Oh, my sweet middle child,
small nosed, and chubby cheeked
How I wish you knew how
special you are....
I see your struggles,
caught in the middle of
an older brother who
excels and teases, and on
rare occasion extends some attention
which you lap up like a thirsty dog....
While on your heels, is the younger
sprite, all girlish drama and flair
in one instant your best friend, and
in another your worst enemy...
Yet, you were created with your
own set of gifts, a love of building,
and reading, a "follower" of rules and
instructions...as teacher's say, "A joy
to have in class"....
You are unique, born in the heart of
winter, your eyes green instead of
your sibling's blue, while they are
long legged, you are sturdy and short....
I know you are changing, your frustration
and tears tell me all too clearly, but
I know you will be just fine, for you are
the child I can count on, the child I don't
have to ask twice. You keep your mother sane,
and that my child is I gift I will never
be able to repay...
I love you my sweet middle child.....
This is written for my sweet Sam. He's changing and I've noticed a lot of frustration with his siblings lately. On January 31, he turns ten. A special day because he shares a birthday with his dad. He told me the other day he hates being the "middle child" and it's hard to know what to say. I was the youngest so I only know that point of view, but he is resilient and I know he'll be just fine.....
Oh, my sweet middle child,
small nosed, and chubby cheeked
How I wish you knew how
special you are....
I see your struggles,
caught in the middle of
an older brother who
excels and teases, and on
rare occasion extends some attention
which you lap up like a thirsty dog....
While on your heels, is the younger
sprite, all girlish drama and flair
in one instant your best friend, and
in another your worst enemy...
Yet, you were created with your
own set of gifts, a love of building,
and reading, a "follower" of rules and
instructions...as teacher's say, "A joy
to have in class"....
You are unique, born in the heart of
winter, your eyes green instead of
your sibling's blue, while they are
long legged, you are sturdy and short....
I know you are changing, your frustration
and tears tell me all too clearly, but
I know you will be just fine, for you are
the child I can count on, the child I don't
have to ask twice. You keep your mother sane,
and that my child is I gift I will never
be able to repay...
I love you my sweet middle child.....
This is written for my sweet Sam. He's changing and I've noticed a lot of frustration with his siblings lately. On January 31, he turns ten. A special day because he shares a birthday with his dad. He told me the other day he hates being the "middle child" and it's hard to know what to say. I was the youngest so I only know that point of view, but he is resilient and I know he'll be just fine.....
Monday, January 24, 2011
Superbowl bound......
I am not a sports nut! I'm pretty sure I don't have an athletic bone in my body, but you can't grow up in the state of Wisconsin and not learn a little about the Green Bay Packers. I grew up with two older brothers, a dad and grandparents that LOVED the Packers! I was taught there is no loyalty to any other team in the league. Now there were many years when my Viking's cousins got to wear all their cool Purple and White gear, and rub our noses in the fact that we were not a winning team anymore but then in 1996 Brett Favre and the Packers changed all that. We are a team that gets criticized for not spending a lot of money on free agents. We prefer to pick underdogs and build our team. And through thick or thin you will never meet more loyal fans than the Packers. We love our green and gold so you can imagine there was a lot of yelling, and jumping up and down when we knew for sure we were going to the Superbowl. I don't even care if we win the Superbowl I'm just glad we made it this far. My bestie took this picture so she's not in it but from left to right starting in the back: my husband Charles (no hair), Dirk (my bestie's husband) Kevin (Cheri's hubby). Bottom row left to right: My daughter Grace, my besties daughter Hannah (peeking out from under Grace), our son Sam, Me (drybottomgirl) and our friend Cheri. Dressed in our Packer gear(mine is very dated I'm wearing #92 Reggie White) and ready to yell our team on to victory. But it's funny how much more enjoyable these games are sober to me. As we were driving to their house I was remembering all the Packer parties we had gone to in the past. It was fun at first, but then I would drink a lot, be full, and tired and not really care by the end of the game. Now I'm yelling, and cheering and jumping around. Isn't that the truth of AA? It gets you going, it gets you involved, it gets you out of yourself. When the pity party gets to big to handle, my program teaches me to get busy working with someone else, or just doing something to help someone else. By giving of me I get so much more. So it's Monday, I'm at work, not hung over, and happy to call the Green Bay Packers my team.....Smiles :)
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Flash 55 Friday
Aracnaphobia
Crossing over to water
the flowers, I catch a
glimpse of quiet beauty
Threads of lightness
illuminated by the pink
eastern morn, glistening
with fresh dew I feel
like a voyeur to your world of
secret lure and destruction,
like a lover whose too attractive
and before you know it you've
cashed in your soul....
I have never cared for spiders except Charlotte. When she died I sobbed all the way home from the movie theatre. I guess their speed makes me nervous but last summer I was able to study the most beautiful web(minus it's owner) in the morning sun. I am amazed at the architecture that stems from these little creatures. Almost air like in composition and yet strong enough to capture their prey. Truly a wonder. I hope you all have a cozy weekend. Temps are headed below zero, so outside will be limited! Blessings.......
Crossing over to water
the flowers, I catch a
glimpse of quiet beauty
Threads of lightness
illuminated by the pink
eastern morn, glistening
with fresh dew I feel
like a voyeur to your world of
secret lure and destruction,
like a lover whose too attractive
and before you know it you've
cashed in your soul....
I have never cared for spiders except Charlotte. When she died I sobbed all the way home from the movie theatre. I guess their speed makes me nervous but last summer I was able to study the most beautiful web(minus it's owner) in the morning sun. I am amazed at the architecture that stems from these little creatures. Almost air like in composition and yet strong enough to capture their prey. Truly a wonder. I hope you all have a cozy weekend. Temps are headed below zero, so outside will be limited! Blessings.......
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