In which Shay discusses potty and gpa and other such things

Potty first on the list, know that we have been trying to work Goof Ball into underpants for quite a while now, but he is so stubborn (very like his mother) that he always refused it - viciously.  And he seemed even more able to get what he wanted (diapers or pull-ups) when Pro Boxer tried to get him to go potty, so as I was always very busy with school and homework, we weren't very successful.

Yet now - only about a week since my graduation, Goof Ball is already going potty.  I don't know what it is, maybe me and him have butted heads often enough that he knows that he can't win over me... but when it was me forcing him to do the potty thing, he did it.  We butted heads, surely - especially at first - but even just yesterday HE was the one to come upstairs and tell us he needed to go potty.  He has been in underpants the past two nights as well and hasn't wet his bed.  The only accident he has had (in his underpants at least) has been the other end of the spectrum, and that was because we didn't realize that it might be a bit too early to take him to the store in underpants...

So if we have learned anything from this experience with Goof Ball is that what was said on "Honey, I Blew Up the Kid" was right - "Daddy means fun.  Mommy means business."

And then graduation - yes!  I am a free woman!  I have taken more naps in the past few days than in my whole past semester.  I don't know why but I have been really sleepy lately.  My only thoughts as to why have been this: I had been so stressed out and sleep deprived that now that I am free, my body is like "Ooookay.... now you can be as tired as you want and catch up on some zzzzz's!"  Which I am kind of okay with.  Though I'm going to try and actually do something today instead of read, sleep, or work on my story.  Laundry is on the list of things to do.

And finally - gpa.  For the past few semesters, I have ended the semester with a 2.98.  I have never much cared for numbers, not really caring what I graduated with.  But then again, I have always assumed that I was a 3.0 kind of girl.  I never thought that I got bad enough grades to be in the 2 range.  And as the past few semesters always ended on a 2.98, I was really wanting to catch up those last two .01's and just end with a 3.0.  This semester, I had four music classes and four major classes (three English ones - one Japanese (so I could get a BA instead of a BS)).  Three of my major classes posted grades and things on canvas - a cite that I can sign into and check grades, download homeworks... etc... so I kind of knew what I would end up with on those classes, and I knew for a surety that I would get perfect A's in my music classes.  So.  Four A's from music classes.  When the grades slowly started posting, I saw that two A's from music classes raised the gpa only one .01 making it 2.99 and I was really sad.  At that rate, four A's wouldn't add up to what I thought would be four B's and still end up with at least a 3.0.  Then a few more classes posted the grades, and what do you know, in my one English class that didn't post the grade on canvas, I got an A for that as well.

All things added up, it looks like I'll be graduating with a 3.01.  I got 5 A's, one B, and two B-'s.  That is my gpa from my entire college experience, Music Major time and all.  My gpa for my degree only, is a 3.10.  So..... three shout outs for me!

I was thinking about this as I was falling asleep last night and I remembered at how this second college time started.  It was kind of a sudden and late decision, and because of that, I was surprised that I was able to get in all the classes I needed, and that I was even able to get a grant.  I was worried about the grant part - it was the end of July when I decided this, and I assumed that all the money would have been divided out already.  Not only was I always able to get into the classes I needed to, but I never failed a class.  I had only about 3 C's in the whole three years, and looking back in my transcript when I was a music major - it is kind of amazing that I only got 3 C's (as there are many D's and even F's in those music major years).  Many semesters my lowest grade is a B- or a B.  I have never been a 4.0 kind of person, and grades have often been the last thing on my mind, so for me... it is kind of a miracle these last few years.  Some people may think that I'm exaggerating, because those grades aren't anything to be like (O.O) over... but seeing as everything that I had on my plate - with kids, and house, and my wonderful husband getting even less sleep than me... it really is kind of amazing - especially with me being the carefree kind of person that I am.

I was thinking about this as I was falling asleep last night.  And I could think of nothing I could say to the only person capable of blessing my life so much.  The same person I have been pushing away so he didn't bless me - I know I am far from worthy of any such blessings.  But I guess - worthy or not - if I ask or not - even if I purposefully turn away from him - he will still bless me, and all I could think was "Thank you."

That moment when you realize too late that you should have read the previous posts before you make another one

So... apparently I'm just in a roller-coaster and should just enjoy the ride.  Haha.  All of my recent posts sound the same, and apparently I have already mentioned the fact that I have had a spiritual downfall.  Ah well.  Enjoy reading anyway if you can.  Apparently I need to try and revamp what this blog is about.

Hang in there - and I will too.

Grateful

I feel like I have been neglecting this blog... which in a way I kind of have.  I'm sure lots of people haven't liked how this blog has turned out, I know I sure haven't... it seems almost every post these days is something depressing again.  Which isn't surprising I suppose seeing as how things have gone in my life as of late.  But I won't get into that.

I was looking back in some really early posts recently and realizing just how much I do have.  How much more I should be grateful.  Yes.... a lot has happened in my life.  A lot that has given me every right to be angry, bitter, and filled with hatred at times.  And that is what I have been for the past few months, no hyperbole.  But at the same time... I do have a lot that I should be more grateful for.  Things that I often take for granted.

My wonderful friends who have accepted me, bitterness, anger, hatred, and all.  Friends who haven't judged me or run away when they found out about the darkness and hatred within me.

My amazing husband who despite what I have chosen in the past month or so (not going to church, eating out with a friend on Sunday, etc...) that have gone against what he would have liked me to do, he still accepts me and doesn't think any less of me as a person.

My family.  Family is easy to take for granted.  Likely because you grow up with them and know them so well you almost know what they will say to you when you say something.  I have certainly been pulling away from my family as of late.  I have even been pulling away from Pro Boxer's family as well.  They both are just so full of the gospel and that fuels their lives so much that I couldn't stand being in the same room with them when they discussed gospel related things - or when gospel things came into the conversation, no matter if it was simply just a passing thought that spent only a sentence in the conversation.  Yes family who keeps up with this - I have been purposely avoiding you.  Which may also be a reason why I haven't posted on here in a long time... and none of the posts have fully been about what has been bugging me most.  Truthfully... I haven't wanted to tell you about how much I have fallen because I haven't wanted you to be disappointed in me.  But that's just it.  I know you wouldn't think any less of me, but I was dealing with the fear that you would.  A lot has gone on in my life recently that has caused me to pull away, and I have done so purposefully, but I'm not going into that now.  The fact of the matter is, that my kids, my husband, my siblings... I am learning how I should appreciate you more, and lean on you more.

My talents.  Surely my trumpet playing ability is amazing.  Not just because I'm a trumpet player and have an ego, I know that it is great (because of the complements and raving reviews I get from Dr. Lion and Dr. MOM - the new trumpet teacher), and naturally better than some.  At least in some ways.  I say naturally because I don't practice nearly as much as I should, and yet I can pull off amazing performances.  They would probably be more amazing if I practiced more... but again... I'm just taking it for granted.  But I'm trying to change that mode of thought.

My abilities in general.  I mean... I'm about to graduate with a Bachelor's of Arts and I'm a freaking mom at the same time.  That aside with everything that has been happening, I have been able to survive.  Even if I don't graduate with a 3.0 (right now I'm at a 2.98..... 3.0 has been my goal ever since I found out I was that close) I have survived much more than I thought I would, and that has been with full schedules, sometimes poor health with sciatic nerve issues and lung problems... and even a part time job last spring.

I just.... I should be more grateful.  Bad times aside... I really do have lots to be grateful for.

The home stretch

So it is within my grasp, I can feel it.  I'm so close to graduating, it is almost intoxicating. It seems the more things I have to do, the more stress comes in, and the more things I forget.  I know this isn't just a unique thing just for me, but still.  It makes me realize just how many amazing friends I have.  Because the more concerts I pack on, the more I need people to watch my kids or do this that or the other to help me survive, and they help me without asking anything in return.  I seem to be surrounded by people friends and family who keep me moving when all I would rather do is sleep all day.  Or work on my story - either one.

I have to get to more homework - I need to read 5 more chapters of Bleak House before tomorrow, so I better get on it.  But I thought I would check in as I had a minute or two to catch up a bit.  Even though I'm not really saying much, I guess I am showing that I'm still alive, which could be seen as an accomplishment depending on how you want to see it.

Have a nice day!

Without doubt there cannot be faith

Once upon a time there was a woman who trusted God more than she trusted anyone else.  People had done bad things to her, but she was able to live with it, because she believed that God would heal her one day.  She trusted her parents, because they taught her about God.  She trusted her siblings because they knew her and what had happened to her, and they still loved and accepted her.

The woman got married.

Her husband is one of the most patient people on the earth.  Despite the haunt of the woman's past that forced her to push her husband away when he only needed love, he still loved and accepted her.  He never got upset when she pushed him away, he only had love for the woman.

The woman started breaking.

So many times the woman bent on her knees begging God with all that she had to heal her so she wouldn't have to feel like she was being ripped apart every time she pushed her husband that she loved so much away.  There was nothing the woman could do.  It was either not push her husband away and live in memories of her past as he continued, or push him away and deal with the extreme pain that came from pushing him away.  Many times when the woman begged to be healed, she felt an extreme weight lift off of her shoulders and she felt free.  She felt like she had finally been healed.  Months past and her husband was able to enjoy every part of her without her memories haunting their relationship.

And then he'd come in for a kiss again and she would flinch.

After so many repeats, the woman started doubting.  Her extreme trust in God failed her.  She didn't know if she could ever really believe if she was healed or not, and was tired of the hope raising only to be smashed back down again with reality staring her in the face.  Any possible knowledge of her worth that she may have had dismissed.  If she really was worth something, why wasn't she healed yet?

Then one day, she realized the truth.

She realized that her whole life had been a lie.  She realized that she hadn't ever forgiven the person who hurt her.  And instead of loving him, she realized that she was filled with hate.  The bitterness and anger from 18+ years stared her in the face, and she realized that every thing that she had done, all her feelings, was an act.  Not only to fool the people around her into thinking that she was a loving, forgiving person, but also to herself.  She had been lying to herself for nearly her whole life.

She wasn't praying to God anymore.  She hated going to church and feeling like she was unworthy.  Once the woman came to a realization of herself, she didn't know what to do with it.  It had been bubbling and boiling inside of her for so long, that she didn't know how to deal with it.  She had always lived her life trying not to lie to anyone, and then she realized that everything in her life had been a lie.

Nothing made sense anymore.

One day she was thinking about the questions that a good friend had asked her.  How she felt about how God saw her and how that contradicted with the logic that God loves everyone and that everyone has worth in his eyes.  She didn't feel like she had any worth at all.  And then thoughts and questions came to mind, almost as if she were talking to someone else.  She tried to answer the questions as much as she could, but she still couldn't get out of her mind that she must be an evil person for hating the person who hurt her.  The thought came to her mind, "So you finally came to a realization of yourself.  It's natural to hate knowing what happened to you.  What matters now is what you will do with it.  So what will you do?"

She didn't know how to answer.

It stayed silent in her mind for a long while.  The first thing to happen after the silence is that the woman remembered about how she had felt to the person who hurt her.  Memories of the love that she had felt toward him.  Then the thought came, "See?  That's just a part of who you are."

The woman didn't know what to do.

She was confused again.  The logic and experiences weren't measuring up together.  Logic and feelings clashed.  Doubt and faith.  She hadn't even been thinking about praying when the thoughts started in her head.  She couldn't even be sure if she was actually talking to some spiritual being, or if she was having a conversation with herself.  She often makes a habit of that - while thinking about what she will say to someone, she thinks through the conversation in her head, predicting what the other person will say.  She didn't know what to believe anymore.

And so her life continues in a kind of limbo.  Not sure what to believe, not sure what to feel.

Not sure who to trust.

And so the truth comes out.

Man I'm a really good liar.  I always thought that I'm not a very good one, but I must be if I'm able to lie to myself for 20 years or so.  I'm still not sure if I'm ready to post the lie on here or not...  I still haven't told any of my family (besides Pro Boxer) because I'm not quite sure how to bring it up or if I even should.  This revelation came around the same time as my crappy day mentioned in the last post.

So throughout my sibling's bringing ups, two fell off the gospel path - at least enough that they made an impact on the family dynamic.  My parents aren't ones to judge or disown their kids just because they don't go along with their ideals, religious or otherwise, but that couldn't stop the awkward times at religious occasions.  They are both finding their way back now all prodigal son like, and that's great.  Throughout my life, despite it's downfalls, I had always been gospel oriented and strived to always do my best and follow God and Christ and pray and read scriptures and all that stuff.  I never really once showed signs of severing from the path that my parents and ancestors laid out for me.  Only at this time, when my brothers are making their way back, is the time when I am falling off.

It makes me feel somewhat incompetent.  All the time people are talking about how strong I am and how it is amazing that I can do all that I do, with two kids, and still be so on top of things and excel in everything.

What me are they seeing?

I'm the weakest person that I know.  And I know that we are our own worst critics, but I really don't see the me that everyone else sees.  It is this exact reason why I hide and try to be so strong that those close to me won't even see the possibility of me breaking.  It is really why I work so hard to live up to their ideals, because if I don't, then everyone will see how truly weak I really am.  And I feel like I couldn't really live with that.

Someone told me that I'm just attention seeking (part of the crappy day mentioned in the previous post).  That's a silly thing to say to someone.  The only person would could EVER be able to decide if one is attention seeking is the person in question.  I personally don't think I am.  I may be a little bit, I mean... everyone is to a point.  I would almost argue that I'm the opposite of attention seeking.  All you can answer this: what do I do when the pain is too much?  I hide.  I try to become invisible and turn the emotions off.  I don't want people so see my pain (even me) so I try and disappear into things.  It never works (completely), I always have to return to reality.  But it is still my instant reaction.

I hope none of you think I'm attention seeking.  Remember that this blog is first and foremost, a place where I can get things out, no bars held, blood in your face kind of way.  Though it has lessened from that in recent months, pretty much because my mom asked me to censor it... but really... this is the only way.  Nothing held back.  I'm still holding back, because what I'm told by someone that I respect, I can't just ignore.  No matter how much it may hurt me.  Why not just write in in a personal (lock and key kind of deal) journal?  Well, that kind of defeats the purpose.  I'm tired of everything hiding in a closet like I did as a child.

And so the posting must go on.  Sorry if this one doesn't make much sense.

I had a pretty good day, all things considered... but my emotions are all still in an uproar and turmoil kind of thing that is hard for me to explain.  We'll see what tomorrow is like.

On a happier note

I'm such a spoiled little brat.  I always kind of have been, and lately I have just been taking my good friends who are such a support to me for granted.  I still don't feel as if I'm worth their attention and love (I'm not sure I ever will), but I just wanted to let you all know that it's thanks to some of you, and many really good friends that are around me, some with similar morals, and some with very different morals, that stay with me, lift me up, and make me laugh at myself.  Love's to you all.  I hope you know who you are.

Today ended up to be very good.  It started really crappy.  I'm not going to be specific or the wound will probably open up again.  I ditched two classes, however, which turned out to be a rather good thing for my emotions.  I'm going to try and not make a habit of it, but it was nice because I could hang out with three of the above mentioned friends, and they made me forget life for a while and feel like maybe I do enjoy this thing and that I'm a fun person.  Then marching band happened - I always feel better after a band rehearsal (unless it was really horrible...) and then brass choir which was equally lifting (especially because Dr. Lion rehearsed with us and made us sound better than we are) and to top everything off, brass quintet.  I'll just have to say that brass quintet is one of my favorite ensembles to play in.  Today was an especially good rehearsal.  I wish that people in charge of education curriculum could understand and experience the power of music.  It really has healing properties... but I'm getting off topic.

So what started off as a really crappy day that seemed to only be able to go down, ended up as a wonderful one leaving me feeling great.

I could maybe get used to this feeling great.