I'm the Incredible Hulk!  It's true.  And fucking disturbing.  I think of myself as fun and accommodating.   And yet ...

My COF described an incident when "I scared them".  It doesn't matter the topic, or the situation - what matters is that my energy caused some of these women to become uncomfortable and leave the room for more wine.  

Of course I apologized for making them uncomfortable.  That is never my intent.  I prefer to be loved not feared.  I really don't see myself as fierce or scary ... and yet ... as I reflect ... I do have an element of Fierce.  

I'm sliding into acceptance that I am Fierce.  It's happened often.  When someone or something I care about (kids, family, friends, the environment, democracy!) is "threatened" Fierce will arrive forcefully and sometimes suddenly.    You do NOT mess with this Mama Bear.  My kids know this.  My son rejects and disdains my "help".  Which is fine.  He's much more capable and successful in fighting his own battles.  They all are actually.

Earlier, the College Daughter shared a story about her teammate's interaction with the coach.  The teammate has an actual (serious!) medical condition, the coach is shallow and wants her scholarship money for someone else.  As I heard the details of this story I literally got pissed off and pumped up!  Fortunately my clothes didn't rip off nor did I turn green but the effect was otherwise the same.  There was a small smile on my daughter's face.  She knew my rage was impotent.  I wasn't going to call or email anyone.  My energy validated the shittiness of her teammate's treatment by the coach.  I think sometimes it's nice to have The Hulk in your corner.  

Other times, not so much.

It was humbling to realize that I'm a "scary" friend.  I guess it's good to know how I am perceived - the polar opposite of who I think I am.  Shit!   I don't apologize for standing up for what I think is right.  Though I may need to restrain The Hulk a bit in order to have an educated discussion vs scare the shit out of bystanders.

Keep Cool My Friends.

I haven't written for a while.  Last week wasn't a great week emotionally.  The timing sucks extra because it was my birthday week - usually the best week of my year.  I'll have to make it up to myself.

Call it a funk, boredom, a slump, the doldrums or depression.  Doesn't matter.  It's a waste of time and energy.  Yes energy.  It takes a lot of energy to mentally argue & negotiate with yourself only to lose and resign yourself to the couch with the clicker and a bottle of wine.  It's exhausting to disappoint yourself.  
To be disappointing.  

I can usually negotiate a two day indulgence of depression.  I didn't this time.  I was terrible to me.

This week I rise.  Shaking off that slightly edgy feeling.   Re-familiarizing myself with regular routines.  Becoming comfortable in my surroundings.  Healing the damage to body and soul.  Getting my groove back.

The weird thing is:  no one has any idea my week was so inward and unhealthy.  Well, by way of explanation I shared a bit with my girls.  And I hashed out a few things with the Hubs.  But as I "re-enter society" - no one has a clue.  

It just goes to show:  We have no idea what another person is going thru.  

Be Kind to Yourself & Others My Friends.  

I'm thinking about getting re-certified as an ACE Fitness Instructor.  

Here's my brain dump:

I really don't care if I teach a class.  Oh but I really loved to teach.  I have a lot of "interesting" info to share.  I don't have any music.  I don't have any moves/routines.  I don't have the stamina for a class.  I'm old and jiggly - maybe not a great role model for a fitness class.  Would I want to take a class from me?   Who would?   What do I have to offer?  Age, wisdom, been-there-done-that ...   I can bring something unique to my gym.  But that's just that gym - there are very cool progressive places out there.  I'm not looking to teach at those places.  I wouldn't mind just learning the information again.  So much seems to have changed - yet nothing seems to have changed.  Being certified gives me options.  Do I really want to get on a schedule and teach a weekly class?  What if I want to travel?   Getting a sub sucks.  I wouldn't mind subbing on my own terms.  I'd be good at it.  I would have a good message for exercisers.  I could just get the certification.  Continue to work on my own personal fitness and nutrition.  Figure out the music and moves issue.  Put together a couple classes.  Put my name out there to see if anyone needs a sub.   
​Shit!  It's been 20 years since I've taught.  I could still do it.    Do I want to?

A good problem to have My Friends

I had a baby 26 years ago today.  She gave me many gifts, one of them is the family I have today.  
She lives in my heart.

Here is another part of her story;
My Baby Girl was born and died on February 7, 1993.  My birthday is March 6.  I am the first girl on my dad's side of my family in 39 years.   Including my uncle, my dad, my cousins and brothers; there are nine males between me and my dad's sister, my Aunt Roseline.

Here's the weird thing:  Roseline was born on February 7th.  She died of pneumonia on March 6th at 13 months old.  I wasn't aware of these dates until years after my Baby's birth.

Let me tell ya a couple things about being the first girl on the DeBilzan side of the family in 39 years.  It was a big deal!  As an infant I received special presents from my Uncles.  One of them even gave my mother $20.  (In the folk lore of my family this was an incredible gesture!)  According to my mother, my father was 'over the moon' handing out pink-banded cigars and telling everyone he had a daughter.  

Every time we visited my father's super small home town, random people would pop over to "see what a DeBilzan girl looked like".   My five boy cousins who lived in this small town, with all the people who had known my Grandparents and possibly my Aunt, lived with the myth of the 'DeBilzan Girl'.   To this day, my cousins, whom I see about every 20 years and have several daughters of their own, hold me in a particularly special place in their hearts - and I them.     My brothers, on the other hand, knew me better and were therefore never as accommodating  and awestruck.  Shocking!

Fast forward to a neighborhood theme party in the early 2000's.  I don't remember the theme but they had invited a Psychic to give readings for their guests.  So, being that party friend who comes early and stays late, I was first in line.

The Psychic says to ask her a question.  I proceed to tell her the story of these birth and death dates wondering if there is a connection.

She asked if we were going to have any more children.  Then she said, "That baby came back to you."  

I'll tell you, I wasn't wholly shocked by this statement.  My youngest daughter's due date was February 5th, eight years after my First was born and died.  During this pregnancy, mostly because of the similarity of due dates, I thought a lot about my First Baby.  It was upsetting to me.  For some reason I didn't want the babies to share February 7th.  I was unhealthy through my pregnancy with Kendall.  I gained a lot of weight, my blood pressure was up, I felt terrible and I complained like it was my one true calling.  The doctors induced her birth two weeks early.  This was especially fortunate because there was a knot in Kendall's cord and my blood pressure was off the charts.  The doctor said this birth took 10 years off his career.  He changed jobs shortly afterward.   

With the epidural and oxygen I was mostly oblivious to all that had gone on during Kendall's  birth but I do know that my first thought when I saw her was, "She looks like my First Baby."   My second thought was that she didn't have any eyelashes or eyebrows - both of which are enviable and gorgeous today!  I also remember having a feeling of completeness when I saw Kendall.  Maybe it was because I knew she was our last baby and our family was complete.  Maybe it was because I sort of knew "that Baby came back to me".

The second thing the psychic said was, "You are never alone.  Your Aunt is always with you."

Surprising yet validating.  I've always known someone was with me.  I particularly felt it as a younger person.  I just thought it was my paternal grandmother, Grandma Trace.  It's Roseline who's been keeping me company all these years.

It's nice to know.

Love You My Friends!

I've lifted weights for three whole days in a row.  I've focused on full range of motion and engaging all muscle groups.  Now I can't lift my arms to wash my hair or feed myself.

Good Luck Friends!

I've started attending an 8 week lecture series called 'Great Decisions" facilitated by LWV produced by the Foreign Policy Association.  It covers global migration, the Middle East,  nationalism in Europe, and other stuff.  It really is like learning a new language.  It is eye opening, humbling, terrifying and empowering.

Know this:  I picture smart, 'uber-intellectual' women attending this sort of learning opportunity.  And yet, here I find myself; more informed than most, completely clueless about a lot of shit, extremely interested and - here's the kicker - 20 years younger than the median age of the other lecture participants.  Oh boy!

Anyway, the topics discussed last week ranged from Nationalism vs Populism (terms I always have to check their definitions to remind myself the differences) vs Immigration.  And how all this pertains to Whiteness.  And Money.  And Diversity.  And Hope.

Not all that long ago people in the US hated the Irish and/or the Italians who had immigrated here for a better life.  Those immigrants were given the shit work, the shit places to live and scraps to eat.  But as the original immigrants' children grew, became more educated then had their own children, they contributed more and more to society.  Their cultures assimilated/melted into the fabric of our country.  

I've said this before - I'm distressed by the migration coming to our southern border.  Not because there is a hoard of  'bad hombre's' on our doorstep.  But because I cannot fathom what is so fucking bad that would cause a mother to walk 2,000 miles with young children.   It is A Human Crisis.

It's also a world wide problem stemming from shitty wars and global policies.

Which brings me to a comment one of my fellow lecture participants said, it had a specific point but struck me on a broad level.  WHAT CAN I ABIDE?

It is easy to distain and dismiss 'Different' (immigrants, people of any color other than white, people getting government assistance, LGBQT, Republicans or Democrats, Liberal vs Conservatives, etc).  It is easier to see "them" as Less Than because it makes "us" feel More Than.   It is a crisis of essential Moral Values.  WE are the problem.

So I ask myself, 'What can I Abide?'  How much intolerance can I tolerate?  And, most importantly, when I encounter intolerance, what am I going to do?  I really wish I had a succinct, eloquent answer.  I do not.  For now, I am going to continue to educate myself;  listen to all opinions and perspectives; recognize daily intolerances; until I finally find my voice for tolerance. 

Let's talk Health & Exercise for a hot sec.  February is get my ass back in shape month.  I literally have nothing to do this month so I might as well get to the gym, eat better and drink less.  Plus the Polar Vortex is over so there's no danger in going for an outdoor walk.

Be mindful my Friends!