3 S.R. Johannes: 2007

Friday, March 16, 2007

Geico...get going!

A Geico Sitcom?

You must be kidding!

The cavemen are funny for about 30 seconds! Do we really need them for 30 minutes?

This comes back to my beef about our society...we always want more, we can never get enough.

Where does it stop?

If we like a movie - we just remake it.
Then if we like the remake - we do another one.
If we like something to eat - we make the portions bigger.
If we still aren't full - we super size it.
If we like a celebrity, we make magazine after magazine showing them doing things nobody really cares about.
If we like a book, we make a movie and then release the book again and again and again with different covers
If we have extra space, we fill it with shopping malls, strip malls or more apartment complexes.
If we need more space, we build on, up and out.

If we could just put this "give me more" mentality into more positive actions we could do so much for this world - more recycling, more education, more knowledge about the world, more voting, more peace, more love, and more compassion.

We need to go back to the old adage of "LESS is more".

So I say, "Geico get going!"

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Oh No He Di-in't....

For those of you who read this and don't know me - I am 7 months pregnant with my second child, this time a little boy. This story might not be funny to some, but it is to me...so I'll tell it anyway.

7 months pregnant is just the point where you don't really want to be pregnant anymore. It's the point where you look for shortcuts, parking spaces in the front of the lot, leave the things you drop, and start craving upcoming dirty diapers over big boobs.

7 months pregnant is when you become too big to move quickly, too round to bend, too full to eat, to tired to move, too fat to still look cute in the trendy maternity clothes, and too shocked to be depressed when you notice a remarkable resemblance to Humpty Dumpty.

At this point in your pregnancy, any way to help ease your discomfort is a welcomed and blessed one.

Last Sunday, I was at the grocery store, too big to shop, and saw something that would make my life in the weekday mornings just a little easier...."Lunchables".

Now for all you moms who swore you would never use a lunchable for your kid, you should probably stop reading this. I felt the same thing about lunchables and years ago vowed to never use them, thinking: "Surely I can take the time to make a healthy lunch for my beautiful daughter. I mean how lazy could I really be?"

However - now - at this round point in my life - I suddenly had a change of heart. Lazy sounded great and lunchables sounded even better. Maybe they were god's secret gift to mom's who have to get their spunky 3 year old ready for school while being a weary 7 months pregnant.

Feeling guilty, but admittedly relieved at one less morning ritual, I grabbed a two-pack. I must say in my lazy defense that at least I did not get the real crappy kind. You know the fake pizza kind with chocolate and cookies. I think I redeemed myself by opting for the sodium-filled, processed crackers, turkey and cheese.

Bad - but it could be worse. I had managed to barely scratch the surface of "mom slackdomville."

I brought the lunchables home - excited about the day when I would realize walking out the door that I had forgotten to make my daughter's lunch. The day when I could easily grab my brilliantly thought-out, back-up plan. The day of the convenient lunchables.

The next morning, I wake up to the birds singing outside my window and slowly roll (And I mean literally roll because my stomach muscles have "left the building". Oh, and by the way, in case you are wondering, I intentionally used the word "building" to describe my current physical state. Blocky, rigid and very, very noticeable).

I walked out into the kitchen and saw that my sweet husband (who rubs my feet, listens to me complain about my growing belly, and still tells me I am beautiful) has thoughtfully packed my daughter's lunch for school. Thank goodness. I smile to myself and think "he is so sweet" while I make a mental note to call and thank him for giving me have one less thing to do when I am teetering on being 30 pounds up and still growing.

Curious, I peek in the bag to see what adorable and delicious meal my sexy man - who gourmet cooks for me frequently - has packed for his little "fairy princess".

I gasp at the contents of her lunch and cry, "Oh no he di-int!"

My dear husband - who now I remembered snored all night keeping me up - packed a "Lunchable"!

How is this fair?

The "lunchable" was my back-up plan for the days when I was forgetful and unorganized. The days that seemed more overwhelming than others. The days when I was bigger than the day before. And for all those other days where I - as the 7 month pregnant building - just wanted to be fat and lazy.

The "lunchable" was NOT for the hubby to use. The hubby who gets to take a hot shower EVERY morning, the hubby who jumps in his BMR for a nice cozy turbo-ride to work. The hubby who gets to listen to NPR and not singing Elmos. The hubby who gets to be intellectual and cool at work while talking with adults. The hubby who does not have to play dress-up for the "umpteenth" time.

Overreacting, I stubbornly take out the lunchable and save it for another day - this time hiding it in the BACK of refrigerator next to the Arm & Hammer box that has kept my refridgerator fresh for at least a year. I grumble as I slave over packing a nutritious lunch with chicken, carrots and applesauce. Then, I steam for a while ranting and raving around the house, "how dare he...I'm the pregnant one!"

(What can I say - if i can CARRY a big baby- I think I am allowed to ACT like one too.)

I suddenly think to myself, "Geez, I must have way too much time on my hands."

I mean, I should just relax. My hubby works very hard for our family. He does so much for me and my daughter and is a wonderful husband. Maybe he deserves a break today.

The stubborn baby in me cries out, "Just not MY break."

My inner-child whispers back, "If he likes them so much, next time I'll just be even MORE lazy and save a lunchable for his dinner."

Dramatic PRE-enactment:

"Hi honey, how was your day?"

"Good, what's for dinner?"

"How about a lunchable? Munch up!"

(Note: No husbands were bitched at, injured, killed, or starved during the writing of this blog.)

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Goodbye my friend

I am suddenly faced with losing a friend.

It is a very sad day and my heart aches.

I have never really had a friend move so far away before. Mostly, the people that have left have moved to South Carolina, Florida, another part of Georgia or New York. This side of the nation.

One of my best friends came to me the other day and said the words I told myself she would not say: "We're moving to Denver."

GULP..."When", I respond.

"In 2 weeks."

I have cried ever since. Anytime I hear her voice, look at a picture, or think about us drifting apart, I crumble.

BOOM! My life has changed and my friendship is changing - and I am left struggling to find the good in it. I have spent the last couple of weeks thinking about "The Secret" and hearing how you should be grateful for all your experiences and pain because you never know what it can bring. I guess I always thought of it as letting go and appreciating the bad or toxic things in your life because they are there to teach you something. Bad jobs, toxic relationships or negative people.

But I never thought of that applying to loosing the good things?

If something is good in your life...truly good and healthy... like a solid long-standing friendship that you adore and depend on for some sanity. Then, why do those things have to change? What does that teach me? Does it make a space for someone new?

Well - I don't want anyone new.

No one new can take the place of 20 years.

I just want my best friend here with me. A friend who has shared all my pain, joy tears and laughs since I graduated from high school. A friend who had her first baby one day before I had mine. A friend who is listed in our will as partly responsible for my daughter. A friend who shares my love of reading and writing. A friend unlike no other and irreplaceable. A friend that I want to to laugh with and love and be there for the little things that others don't get to see or that go unnoticed.

Now, we won't be there for those things. I won't be able to run over and cry on her shoulder when I need to. I won't be able to watch my daughter and her son grown up together.

My whole family looses the most special family that we spend our time and weekends with. Our extended family - one of my daughter's emergency contacts.

After 20 years, my best friend that is moving across the United States.

Just like that, in only 2 weeks, we move from seeing each other once a week to once a year? I just can't fathom that.

I feel a HUGE sense of loss. My other friends are encouraging me to try and hide my feelings and be happy for her. I am trying so hard to do that. I know her husband is happy and I love that. I know she is happy to be moving back to Denver to be with another close friend she grew up with. I know she is happy for her family.

But - I don't know how to find happiness in this situation for me. I know it is not all about me. I am just left with an empty space in my heart that I don't feel can ever be filled.

I don't know how to be happy for her. I don't know how to feel grateful knowing a friendship is changing dramatically. A friendship I loved just the way it was.

A friendship that will never be the same.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

My Secret is Out

They always say if you hear something more than 3 times, it's a sign. Now I realize, maybe it's just a secret waiting to be uncovered.

About 3 months ago, my best friend mentioned a movie called "The Secret" and sent me a free link to watch. I started it but never finished (which describes half of my life). At Christmas, a different friend mentioned "The Secret" to me again.

For some reason, I still chose to keep the information stored back in the part of the brain that I rarely use. Don't get me wrong - the movie sounded great and the "secret" sounded appealing...it just takes a few times to make it past my ADHD filter before my brain can process it appropriately.

Finally last week, I watched Oprah and her show was titled "The Secret". Three times a charm!

The concept is interesting and now provides a new challenge (and you know how I love a challenge) to those of us who may just be "naturally-born pessimists". I mean people in my family says I am anal and uptight and negative. I don't feel like I am those things but maybe your family just tells you the hard-cold truth. I admit sometimes I do see the down-side first, but sometimes I think it's more because I find the crappy things in life more humorous than the good.

And I love a good laugh.

So I have a question - now that I know the secret - can I still bitch about things? Can I walk around the house and have worldly arguments with myself? Can I still create humor in my life by ranting and raving about life's obscurities? I mean - those things can be fun and sometimes even just plain funny. But if I do them - am I just pulling back in negative energy even if my intention is to process them fully and create some humor?

As I pondered the question of my new found energetic power, I began putting together a poster board outlining my future. I flipped through magazines and stared at pictures waiting for an inspiration picture to grab me. I cut out words to make my own odd sentences and began collaging my ideal life. Looking at my life's collage, I felt it. A power I have not taken time to tap into before. But a power I have always known I had.

I have the power to make things happen. I can be who I want to be, I can do what I want to do, and I can go wherever I want to go. I can be grateful for all experiences, learn from them, and put them behind me. Sometimes I feel bad saying or asking for what I want in life because then I get labeled selfish. But I deserve those things (not material things) and I work hard everyday to get them. I work hard to ignore the people who tell me that I can't do something because they live in fear.

I can be my best self. So my destiny? I make it on my own (of course it helps to have a little guidance from something above I still can't label).

Today, I woke up at 5:00 am with a new outlook.(for those of you who know me - I am sure your mouth has dropped open since everyone knows how much I love my sleep).

I love who I am and what I have done. I have so much more to do in this life. I don't know my true calling yet but I can make it myself. I almost wish there were more hours in the day so I could start my journey towards being me. I went to work and started to write. As the words flowed from me - I dreamed of bestselling my books on Oprah, of living in a beautiful cottage by the sea or in the mountains, and of a life of true bliss where I can really make a difference - even if it is just to one person.

I realized I am not any of those things that my family thinks I am. (I think families tend to bring out things in you that normally don't play out in your everyday life especially when you have felt unheard, unimportant, and unworthy from being criticized your whole life for anything you do.)

I am not negative, bitchy, or anal. I am positive and funny and sarcastic and intelligent. I am creative and good and honest. I like to help others and would die for a friend.

I admit I can be very driven and I extremely acheivement-motivated. And sometimes I just like to bitch out loud (or what I call externally processing.) to the walls about life.

But no matter those flaw...now my secret is out too.

I am working on being my best me!