Have you read the story of the person who changed their Roomba to curse when it bumps into things? That’s me! I’m the cursing Roomba! How do you think the gym gets clean? Fairies?!
The other day I mentioned a need for someone to follow me around and take notes of the great things I dream of when running. It’s mostly nonsense and can span the range of highly emotional to very inspirational. Any takers? Bring your own golf cart.
Friends and family joke about the volume of calls I’ve made to local law enforcement on the drive. Seriously though, I see the most random s**t! The other night my own neighbor tried to run me off the road in his white challenger. If I hadn’t been too tired to fight back and also fearful he had a gun, I would’ve stopped and yelled. I’m only assuming it was a male, I really don’t know. Women must band together. But I would’ve yelled at her, too!
Here’s a few other random things:
Lucky Charms. Yes. The end.
Look at all these leaves! One day it was 75° and beautiful out. The next was 25° and wind gusts to 40mph. The aftermath –
Happy (almost) Thanksgiving to you all. I will return next week with stories of family, humor, and, let’s hope not, violence. But have you met my family? Anything is possible. Please answer all collect calls.
I ask you –
Is there a patent on the cursing Roomba or is there still room for me in that market?
What’s your favorite cereal? – Lucky Charms, Cinnamon Toast Crunch: my top 2
Where are you traveling for Thanksgiving? Any tips for keeping my sanity?
Should be no secret cards are my love language. I enjoy the process of writing a message inside a blank card, addressing it, placing the correct postage on the front of the envelope, and raising the small red flag on my mailbox to indicate I have something important to be delivered.
Recently I mailed 3 cards within a few days of each other, for various reasons. Usually cards are a ‘just because’. Remember opening the mailbox when you were a child and receiving a colorful envelope with your very own name on it? Did you feel excited? Even as adults that same feeling still exists. And it’s amazing. My grandmothers and great aunt instilled in me a sense of thankfulness. It was required as a child to send thank you cards after holidays and birthdays and any other time you received a gift. Some may say this is an antiquated practice now – who has time to send a thank you card. I do. You do.
Truth be told, I felt a little disappointed when I didn’t receive a response from the cards I sent. Only 1 of the 3 recipients said thank you for thinking of them. A real thank you. One didn’t reply at all. Tis better to give than to receive. However, acknowledgment goes a long way. My feelings may have been a little hurt at the lack of thanks…but I think the real culprit was the level of appreciation, i.e. I’m not sure if it was there.
Do you appreciate what your body does for you? How often do you consider all the work your fingers, hands, and feet complete in a day? It may seem silly. We often take for granted what others do for us and, in that, we’re taking for granted what we do for ourselves. We treat our bodies like garbage cans, feeding it junk and expecting it to give a peak performance. Trash in, trash out.
The symbolism between writing cards to express your feelings for someone and showing your body gratitude is not lost on me. No, I don’t see anyone writing letters to themselves, though maybe we should, but your soul’s love language may be equal if not greater than the love you show yourself by treating your body well. Massage. Healthy foods. Strength training. Conditioning. Working on balance. All ways to treat your body right. I know we get busy and we forget to say thank you. But you should thank yourself every day in some small way.
I ask you –
What’s your love language?
How does the above indicate how you treat yourself?
Do you know how to mail a letter and address it properly?
A few days ago, I found myself in a situation needing advice and wondering who to turn to. Over the course of a conversation with someone whose experience and wisdom inspire me, she shared how brave and strong she believed me to be. At the time, I was very puzzled by her words and thoughts perhaps she was saying this just to make me feel better. However, her opinion matters deeply to me – she speaks her truth.
But isn’t that how it goes? Being our own critics and negative cheerleader, we can’t find the good in ourselves. We feel weak, deem ourselves unworthy of love, and place unrealistic expectations on our lives. P.S this is where social media fails us as humans.
Why is it so hard to see how amazing we truly are? In my case, it was a family values flaw, most likely. Having confidence was considered vain and talking about what mattered to you was shunned. I could go on forever how terrifically awful my childhood lessons were but we don’t have time. Nevertheless, I have a daily goal to uplift one person. One! In aday, I probably meet/see over a hundred people so my goal is a miniscule 1%.
There’s one lesson so large I can only hope to instill in my mini human: be kind. Like Ellen always says. It seems so small, just be kind, but apparently it’s the toughest in practice. Elements of kindness exist in each part of our day; the opportunities are forthcoming every minute to share kindness but for some reason we choose not to. Perhaps we don’t know how? Well, I know how and I’ll be d*mned if I sit around waiting for anyone else to show the person I created inside my own body how to be kind. She will know it very well.
At this point, I think it’s appropriate to challenge you, my lovely readers and friends, all 3 of you, to also establish a goal to share with someone how valuable they are in your life. It could be anyone. It could even be your pet – I’m not picky! But please share your feelings and emotions. Your words could have the impact of a lifetime to those needing to hear they’re not alone. We are all worthy.
I ask you –
Have you ever had an experience of being on the receiving end of someone’s truth?
How many people will your kind words impact?
Smile at a stranger. It may be the difference between living and living.
Had a date night with my little Munchkin over the weekend –
The next morning, we longingly stared out the window because we knew it was our last day of warm weather for awhile –
On Monday, a beautiful Veteran’s Day punctuated with snowflakes –
Working from home was a whopping success minus the support desk tickets I’m constantly submitting because I have a horrible knack for programs requiring testing to malfunction mid-test and I can’t complete them. Ugh.
On the bright side, my Christmas decorations, tree, and lights are in place. You can bah humbug me all you want, but a) with Munchkin’s blended state lifestyle we make the most of every holiday and b) did you realize if we put up our Christmas extravaganza December 1st, then we only have approximately 4 full weekends to enjoy them? I’m not home much during the week so in order for me to experience the entire holiday season, I must start early!
I ask you –
Weekend activities? Anything fun?
What are your thoughts on those who decorate early? (To be clear, I have never, NOT EVEN ONCE, been a proponent of this until I had a child.)
Much like spring cleaning, join me on this exploration of old and new stuff I’ve located in my house (aka mind and body) in no particular order –
Book writing: let’s add some more stuff to my fully-loaded proverbial plate and take on the project-in-progress of many years. I began writing a book the year between my undergrad and grad school. As life got more hectic, I put it away and haven’t revisited it since. No better time than the present! In developing myself as a person, a woman, a mom, I decided to begin writing again. There’s no EDC (estimated date of completion), but I plan to maximize effort after December’s training cycle comes to a close. Which brings me to another topic…
Training: is going well! Committing to a plan to run 4 days per week is definitely less stressful than the previous 5-6 days a week. Even knowing I have to run both days of a weekend is somehow easier to accept than I originally thought possible. On other plans, I would dread the weekends. I was a super b-word until I got my one long run in and I would feel like a complete failure if Monday came and it hadn’t been done. Now? I run Saturday and Sunday. It’s a normal part of conversation. The schedule pretty much runs itself (puns for life). I aim for outdoor running – occasionally I can’t make it happen, but usually I’m successful. The only pitfall was the length of the runs. With some slight adjustments, I’m back on the track to success.
Motherhood: Some days I amaze myself at what I’m able to show her – my patience knows no bounds. Other days we each need a time out and I consider adding wine to my coffee cup. Your shaming has no place here. As a smaller version of myself, mini-me can push every button I have and create ones I didn’t even know were there. And then she smiles. If she wasn’t so cute… Being her mom is the greatest blessing of my life. Nothing compares. At times I don’t know who I was before her, then I feel a tingle in my heart and I know she and I were created to meet.
Lastly, work: busy is an understatement. Building a brand, a vision, and melding the minds of multiple people is a job not for the faint of heart. It’s time consuming. But creating connections between people with the same goals is awe-inspiring. Daily (seriously, not a day goes by) I encounter people who share their stories with me, a stranger. Some are wilder than others; many settle heavily in my soul. It could be a story of perseverance or a synopsis of loss – collectively, it makes an impact. My goal is to bring out the best in these warriors who have come to me looking for someone to help make a difference in themselves. Every task brings us closer. Anytime Fitness fulfilled a passion within me; I can’t imagine not being the face of another’s desire to do so. Also, I got a green light to begin training. Training others, specifically. It’s a natural progression in my line of work while also adding a few tons to my already heavy plate. However, I’m stoked to begin this path again.
Stay tuned for another episode of Kel’s Crazy Life. I look forward to sharing this journey with you.
Recently it came to my attention the term “self care” is millennial in origin. Forgive me, I had no idea. I don’t really identify as millennial although I’m sure many would argue my point. You see, as a child of the mid-80s, growing up with older parents lent me a perspective of drive and self-sufficiency. Also, I was a middle child. It was hard! Millennial, aka Gen Y, alludes to traits of entitlement and laziness. Most certainly I am not. But, to be fair, I can’t change what year I was born or what catchy name it will be given so here we are. Written from the desk of a Millennial. You’re welcome.
The topic here is self care which can mean something different for everyone. Your idea of self care might be a glass of whiskey and a guitar (here’s looking at you, Dan). My idea shifts between a cup of coffee and a 35,000 word count book. Or a bubble bath. Basic. At one point I was referred to as a close friend’s muse. We must’ve missed the mark because a muse would never be this funny! Or would they? I take relaxation very seriously. So seriously, in fact, I don’t even know when I have time for it so when it does happen, it’s a very real luxury. Parents, please raise your hands and glasses high.
Inspiration for others I may lack – but I do know we don’t take care of ourselves well. I write this from my laptop, with my desktop computer set at full volume so I don’t miss emails, whilst (trying out my English lingo) juggling the phone and making calls, beside an empty refillable water cup. Nailing it, Kel! Essentially, I’m over-multitasked, dehydrated, and potentially deaf. Let’s not forget I’m a perfect candidate for carpal tunnel. Fantastic.
Self care is unplugging and self-exploring. But who has time for that?! You best make time, that’s all I can say. The chance of you suffering from a stress-induced ailment is so high. If you won’t take care of yourself, who will? Is this that millennial notion to believe others will always take care of me, my every whim will be catered to, and my protective bubble shall save me from my own mistakes? Good try.
Even the muse must find her own muse. Or else suffer the wrath of becoming amused. Ta-da. An amused muse. In taking this to a fundamental level, I can only hope I bring inspiration to more than who simply find me annoying and long-winded. I come by it honestly, trust me. Looking for your own muse? Well, sorry, I’m already obligated to another. But I can find you a lovely candidate! Kidding, this isn’t a muse delivery service. However, obligations extend beyond providing another inspiration. The obligation should foremost be to yourself. Do as the millennials do: practice self-care. And amuse yourself.