The first of many...

This weekend was an amazing weekend of firsts at our house. Liv walked for the first time and completely amazed all of us. She just hit ten months and let's say does not have the body of a walker quite yet. She has, however, become unstoppable! Now, not to be outdone by his sister Case used the potty for the first time, and to say he was proud was an understatement. I am pretty sure that someday when he accepts the Noble Peace Prize it will in no way compare to his excitement of going on the potty; worry not, his mom will be there to share this tidbit with the presses.

Sitting down after her walk, she looks like a porcelain doll. 

Seeing so many things out that window for the first time.

I started thinking about how exciting firsts really are and the memories they cement in our hearts and minds forever. I cannot remember a lot of things in my 31 years of life but my first kiss, the first day I got  my driver's license, the first time Curtis told me he loved me, the first time I saw Case and Liv, my first day as a nurse, first day in the Army, these memories are as vivid as the day they happened. Don't believe me...

Brandon Welch, Sadie Hawkins dance Serrano High School, freshman year. We got married at the "hoe down" and I still have the ring. It was my first kiss and my first tongue kiss all at the same time.

My dad kept me home from school to take my driver's test at the Victorville DMV. I was wearing a teal Roxy shirt because I knew it would look great in my picture, and I was confident in my abilities. I got to go in late to Mr. Gregory's Algebra II class and announce to all my friends. I had to wear a white sweater over my teal Roxy shirt when I went back to school because the spaghetti straps were against the dress code.

Curtis told me he loved me in the bathroom of his Floyd Street house at a party, all I wanted to do was pee.

Case? I remember thinking "who is this little blonde haired boy with the perfectly round head?"

Liv? I remember thinking "another blonde? I am so sorry about your head" she had the worst cone head in the history of heads.

I wore a Mighty Mouse t-shirt the day I left for the Army.

I was an Army Nurse, MAJ Norman was my head nurse and her hair smelled so strange to me.

I know that Case and Liv will not remember these milestones, but I will always carry them with me. There will be so many more firsts for them, but how many more firsts will I have? My new firsts are completely intertwined with them, as are all of my future memories. I wonder though when was the last time I did something for the first time? What things have I been waiting to do? More importantly why have I been waiting? What is holding me back from creating new "first" memories?

When was the last time you had a first? 

"hold my hand, melt my heart"

This last weekend the Kelly family participated in the Great Strides Cystic Fibrosis walk.  Although the kids are too young now there is something very nice about surrounding them with community and awareness. 

The sun was shining and the crowd was filled with shades of purple (the cystic fibrosis awareness color). Liv was my little social butterfly, all smiles for the crowd. Case was in an especially two year old mood as we met up with our team. He whined and cried and refused to do anything but pout by the stroller. I was a little disappointed because I had hoped he would play with his friends from daycare and be charming and wonderful with the adults (sometimes I forget who I am dealing with). 

Then something amazing happened, the walk started and Case's demeanor completely changed. He started walking in that big crowd of people, we lost our group to include Curtis and Liv, we were of course walking at his tiny leg speed, but Case was smiling. He was chatting with people walking by telling them about alligators and monsters, he was running small bursts with other kids that came by. He said "look mommy, I go faster and faster" and every now and then he said "come on mommy, hold my hand." That kid can push me to my breaking point and melt my heart all in the same moment. I started thinking about why we were at the walk; we were walking for my friend Tammy's Godson who is living with cystic fibrosis.  I remembered how lucky I am to have not one, but two healthy kids. I remembered that somewhere a mom is wishing that her child was well enough to be a "terrible two year old" wishing her child had lived long enough to be a "terrible two year old." I remembered there is no guarantee in this life that Case will always be healthy, all that can change in an instant. I looked at Case and thought about him; maybe he isn't so terrible after all. 

He is however extremely sensitive and cautious of the world. He is unbelievably smart and funny but only once he trusts you enough to let you see that. He isn't terrible, he is selective, a tiny little man who knows what he wants and what he doesn't want. 

Case walked the entire mile and I have never been more proud. I always refer to Liv as my joy, but Case, he is my pride.

Who or what are you taking for granted that someone else might be wishing for?

Thanks for Nothing Cinderella...

I suppose it isn't entirely too surprising that all over the world girls both young and old are getting their hearts broken on a daily basis, and I will be the one to say it; I blame Cinderella. From as far back as I can recall I have known the story of Cinderella, a classic for all tiny princesses. Cinderella captivates the prince in just moments, he is the most handsome and the richest of men; he is, of course, a prince. He in turns searches high and low to find her and rescues her from her life of oppression and servitude for the good life at the royal palace. 

Cinderella is a magically, wonderfully, incomplete story of love. 

It is no wonder that at 16 I was prepared to be "rescued" by my prince. My boyfriend at the time promised me all the riches in the world, the castle to live in, the happily ever after, and as a bonus he would free me from the prison that was my parents. At the time, this seemed a fabulous idea, it worked for Cinderella right? It is a wonder that I did not lose it all in the quest for my Cinderella story because I almost walked away from all I knew and loved at the time and ultimately ended up broken hearted. 

It was again no surprise again that when I met my first husband who was the total "Prince Package" that I married him even though I knew it would ultimately end. My head told me it was a mistake but marrying him made me Cinderella. I got the beautiful gown and the beautiful pictures to place together in my very own Cinderella story book (purchased for me by his mom of course). The problem is that Cinderella doesn't teach us what to do when Prince Charming sleeps with another girl, hurts us physically or emotionally, or makes us forget our worth. Cinderella doesn't teach us how to walk away from the wrong man and fight for the right one. Cinderella is failing her tiny princesses everywhere. 

I don't mean this to sound cynical by any means, because I want Liv to believe in fairy tales and happily ever afters, I just want her to believe in real life versions. I want her to know that love is not always fancy dresses, magic wishes, and being rescued; that Cinderella has to make sacrifices, openly communicate and be honest and loyal to Prince Charming. I want her to know that Prince Charming's come in all shapes and sizes and that there is more to love than looks, money,  and the size of his castle (ha, ha get your minds out of the gutter, this is sweet, not dirty).  I want her to know that even though he may not always love her exactly as she had planned it doesn't mean he doesn't love her with all that he has, and that he is worth fighting for. And even when she finds her Prince Charming and realizes he is not quite the man she had pictured in her dreams, he might just be her happily ever after. 

For the record, I found my Prince Charming, how about you? 

I HATE running!

For the last ten years I have hated running! I hate getting dressed to go in those shorts with the lining that never fits quite right, and a sports bra that flattens my already flat chest. Then once you get going there is the ground and pound on your joints and that hurts and then there is all the sweating. Of course, let's not forget the judgement of all the other people passing you by at the park. Endorphins, shmorphins....running is not for me, or at least, it wasn't for me.

As it turns out for the last ten years I must have been running with my eyes closed. Because today, when I laced up my shoes and headed out the door I opened my eyes and saw some of the most amazing sights that I ever could have seen all in a matter of 30 minutes.

I saw my past...

I saw a woman making her way around the park trying to get in shape because her doctor explained to her that being healthy would improve her chances of conceiving a child; no doubt her head was filled with baby names and future nursery themes. I remember being torn between a Dr. Seuss nursery, dinosaurs, or pirate monkeys for Case.

Then there was the 9 month pregnant woman making her best attempt at power waking in an effort to get labor started; surely the desire to meet her little girl and the exhaustion of being pregnant was her motivation. I walked that same track trying to get Liv out, I was so tired of being pregnant and I couldn't wait to see if I finally got my little brunette baby (p.s. I didn't by the way).

There was a woman pushing a stroller with a newborn baby struggling to shed that baby weight for the summer season not realizing that she has a baby now and no one is looking at her, they are all looking at that perfect little person in the stroller.

I saw my present...

A secret society of women just like me; busy moms loving just a few minutes of alone time but still feeling a little guilty for taking time for ourselves. We share a glance as we pass by, the kind of glance that acknowledges our struggles, compliments our hard work and seems to say "I feel your pain, I respect you, and you rock" all without saying a word.

I saw my future...

A woman running around the park with her 10 year old son on his bike yelling "come on mom, pick it up!"I could almost hear Case, and I am sure he would be using something as a sword to joust me around the track.

Then there was the woman running side by side with her teenage daughter talking about the prom and high school graduation next month. I couldn't help but think about what color prom dress Liv would pick and where she would decide to go to college.

And then there was an old man and an old woman walking together hand in hand enjoying their time together. I have no doubt that in all the craziness of the world they only saw each other at that track as they walked for their health and the hope of just a little more time together. I saw myself and I saw Curtis, grey hair and wrinkles, sharing laughs about our grand kids.

Then just to prove that life is comedy, a woman came roller skating by with a broken arm in a purple cast.

As I came around the corner back to the house I completely forgot about my flat chest because I was focused on my fit body, and the fact that it was strong enough to get me all the way around the park two times. I didn't really mind the sweat and I guess I somehow missed out on the ground and pound. It turns out that the thing I spent so long convincing myself I hated I actually love. As for that judgement, no one was judging me, they were each having their own experience, making their own memories. I was just an extra in their life just as they were in mine. For ten years the only person judging me while I was out on a run was me.

Where could you turn hate into love if you only opened your eyes? 

Sweat and all! 

The park where I learned to love running

Free to Choose...

One of the first people I met when I started my nursing career was Ms. Loresa Crawford. She was a tough as nails, no nonsense night nurse who taught me how to treat a patient that has had too much morphine, how to pair chicken and waffles for the perfect meal, and most importantly she taught me about the power of choice. I once asked her how she maintained her positive attitude and most importantly how she managed to continue to look 20 years younger than she actually is. She told me "no one commands my day but me." She explained to me that we cannot chose what happens in our life, we can only chose how we react to it, that we are the product of all of our choices. It is easy to focus on what is happening in our day to day and forget that our life is full of choices. It's easy to feel stuck and get focused on the things we feel we "have to" do but the truth is we are free to make choices every day. I must borrow from one of my favorite books Life's Greatest Lessons, 20 Things That Matter by Hal Urban to highlight our freedom of choice, remember we are free to choose...

"We're free to choose our character-the type of persons we become. We can allow ourselves to be molded by others and our environment, or we can commit ourselves to self-development. We can become less than we're capable of, or we can become all we are capable of.

We're free to choose our values. We can let the media tell us what's important, or we an decide for ourselves. We can base our standards on what others are doing, or we can base them and what we know is right and good. 

We're free to choose how to treat other people. We can put them down, or lift them up. We can be self-centered and inconsiderate, or we can be respectful, kind and helpful. 

We're free to choose how to handle adversity. We can allow ourselves to be crushed, to give up, and to feel sorry for ourselves. Or we can choose to look for a source of strength and persevere, and to make the most out of what life deals us. 

We're free to choose how much we'll learn. We can look upon learning as an unpleasant duty or as a great opportunity for entering ourselves. We can be closed-minded or open-minded; we can be stagnant, or we can grow. 

We're free to choose what we'll accomplish in life. We can allow our circumstances or other people to determine what we make of ourselves, or we can choose our own directions and goals. We can be undisciplined and lazy or we can be self-disciplined and hardworking. 

We're free to choose our own belief system. We can ignore our spiritual nature, or we can accept it as an important dimension of life. 

We're free to choose our own purpose. We can wonder aimlessly, or we can search for a meaning in life, and then live according to it. We can live to please only ourselves, or we can find a cause that's greater, one that helps us understand and appreciate life more fully. 

We're free to choose our attitude regardless of circumstances." 

And lastly, from the book of me, we are free to choose who we love and how we love them, how we give love and how we receive love; we are free to love by choice and not by chance.

What will you choose today?