Progress ...

I've heard from a handful of people who are making changes in life: learning new things, overcoming personal struggles, getting in shape, etc. Thank you all for letting me know you're out there — when I don't feel like working out or am intimidated by one of my objectives, I think of you guys. And Karen, of course. And I forge on.

So things are going well with getting strong. I'm working out regularly and really starting to enjoy it. I have the best 6-year-old personal trainer in the world, which helps. And I am starting to feel, if not quite see yet, results. I do feel stronger. A long way to go, but I'll get there.

Perhaps more interestingly, I'm on the road to becoming a hospice volunteer, or at least to see if I'd make a good fit. I had an initial phone interview, am going in next week to meet with someone in person, and will start my training in April and finish up in May. I initially thought I might not be able to work with patients and their families because of the time proximity of Karen's death, but found out that if I feel like I can handle it, they are OK with me volunteering in that capacity. It sounds weird, or maybe wrong, to say that I'm excited about working with the dying and their families, but I am.

Another possibility that is related to the hospice care is the possibility of getting our family dog, Betty, trained as a therapy dog. I had marked on my initial application that I was interested in pet therapy. I am — I have always thought that pet therapy is an amazing way to bring light into the lives of people who are sick or disabled. And I showed interest thinking I'd be working with other trained therapy dogs, but was told I'd have to have Betty certified.

When they told me that, a light went on. Betty is perfect for that. If you've never met her, she's one of the sweetest dogs I've ever known, even given the fact that she lives with two mini-tyrants (and their somewhat loud, tyrannical mom). And I know it sounds strange, but it just seems like Betty needs something like this. I think it would make her little dog life complete. So I'll be looking into that — if you know anything about therapy dogs or have experience in that area, let me know. 

Peace.
k.

OBABA, Part III, also known as "Settle down, woman!"

So for the last few days, I've been beating myself up about getting back on here and posting more about my quest to become a multi-tiered bad-ass. I beat myself about a lot of stuff. A typical conversation in my head goes something like this:

"Oh good, I'm getting some work done. Laundry. Oh god, there's like 12 loads. There are also dishes in the sink. Dishes! What are we having for dinner?? I wonder what the boys are doing? I'll go check on them ... right after I grab these 16 things that aren't in the place they're meant to be and put them back. Wow, I should really spend more time playing with the boys. But then there's work. I've got to make money. I'm a horrible mother. I'm a horrible earner. I'm a horrible housewife. I'm a horrible person ..."

You get the picture. It is ridiculous. So, after mentally flogging myself for a few days about a damn blog post, I decided that Part III here is going to be my last part for awhile. Until I get strong. Until I start volunteering. Until I calm the hell down and stop knee-jerk thinking about 12 other things I should be doing while I'm doing something that I'd be thinking about if I was doing one of those other 12 things.

The world will not fall implode if the toys are not picked up.
Nothing will break permanently if the laundry gets piles up.
No one is EVER mad at me because I'm not doing enough. Well, no one but myself.

And it's got to end. It's an utterly ridiculous source of stress. I'm expecting too much of me. And me is getting pretty pissed off about it.

So here's objective No. 3 of Operation Be a Bad-ass: Stop trying so hard to be a bad-ass.

I mean, sure, get strong. That is a worthy bad-ass objective. Do the volunteer work you've been thinking about for years. Yep, that's a good one, too.

But otherwise, lay off the crazy do-do-DO-DO!!!! all the time. (Heh, I said doo-doo.)

I took my first step today. I sat down at the computer to work and realized, I don't want to do any of this today. I don't want to do laundry or clean or work or straighten up the house. Screw that. I want to make some shit. (The boys are at school.)

And before I had too much time to think about it and guilt myself into, say, scrubbing a toilet, I got in my car and headed off. I went to the thrift store and found some cool stuff. I went to the hardware/garden store and bought some stuff. Then I came home and I made some stuff.

See!

 I used an old mason jar and wrapped twine around it, then planted a succulent in it. I LOVE succulents.

I have been wanting to make a terrarium for years. Today, I made two. Beginner's effort, for sure, but I still love them.

The three cute vases I bought at the thrift store. For about $3 total.

I also got that little birdie. I love that thing, and he goes nicely with my arrangement made from branches I collected from the front yard, rocks and moss.

The sum total of everything I did today. And I'm OK with that. In fact, I think it's pretty rad.