Gina and the No Good, Horrible, Very Bad Week.

I had the best laid plans for this Advent.  I researched a couple different prayers, got out my Advent wreath and was so ready to go!  Life had other ideas.  I have not yet got in the Christmas spirit.  I have yet to light even one candle on my wreath and this was the worst week in the history of weeks.

First, my beloved husband had to go to Detroit for the week for work.  This isn't such a big deal to most people, but we are one of *those* couples who loves being together and are not excited about being apart. We talk often, face time, and we deal.

Second, I got just about zero help from the kids.  I had such grand plans.  All the laundry would be done, the house would be spotless, everything would be beautiful when my beloved came home.  Instead of help, (mind you, I got less than the bare minimum) I got yelled at, at one point or another, by all three kids.  Not just yelling, but screaming.  The kind of yelling that if I ever did to my parents, I would not still be on this earth.

Third, my right arm.  Something happened Wednesday to the upper part of my right arm.  I've tried advil and icy hot.  Thursday, it hurt so bad all day, it was almost worse than labor pain.  The rest of the week/weekend, it's an on and off thing.  But, it is very uncomfortable and really throws off my day!  And, my husband smartly does not let me on Webmd.  I figure I pulled or twisted something and there's nothing that will heal it but time.

Fourth, my kids.  Yes, I know I mentioned them already but let me tell you more.  Friday, my husband was coming home.  This is great!  I couldn't wait, and I had butterflies in my belly (told you we were one of *those* couples! lol)  Well, the girls had plans, and so did I.  My beloved wasn't going to be home till late.  It was our annual bunco Christmas party and I needed to be there.  Yes, I said needed not wanted.  See these women are my heart.  These women love me unconditionally.  These women have seen me at my very worst and love me anyways.  These women let me rant and rave and then laugh with me.  These women see my sense of humor and lack of a filter as a good thing (most of the time) and never say 'oh, that's just Gina'  or pass me off like I just came from a sped class.  So, after the week I had, I just needed to be there.  But, with my son working, the two girls made plans and didn't exactly make them the best way.  My beloved's flight was going to be an hour late, the girls needed rides home, and I needed to be at bunco.  I had so many panic/anxiety attacks this week and now I was in the throws of yet another one.   I call my husband because he is my rock.  He calms my anxiety and we decide that the girls are old enough, they can figure out there way home.  I call my Sheila and ask her for prayers (she an awesome prayer partner to have!) and then, the party bus arrives.  I get in and knowing I had a bad week, they let me rant and rave and just about cry.  Much needed venting was done.  Then, we arrive at bunco.  Would you believe that the girls found their way home all without me!  All the thousands of text I got that day from the two of them.  All the confusion, all the anger, all of it gone.  They survived without me and I was truly where I needed to be.

Now, with all this horrible, horrible week brought, all this attacking by the devil, all the closing and locking of the doors.  There were windows that opened on God shown through.

Wednesday was a bad day.  It was a day that I got screamed at by all three of my children.  I needed to pick one up, the other one was sleeping and wouldn't go pick her up because "I'M TIRED!"  Apparently, as mom's we're not allowed to get tired.  I'm fighting a migraine and loosing and am about to cry, but that would blur my vision and not help my head.  I just talked to God.  "Dad, do you see all of this!"  "What am I suppose to do!"  "I'm at my wits end here!"  "HELP!".  Then, my phone rings and it's my Carol.  "How are you?"  she asks.  Not content with my I'm fine, she persists and I let everything flow out of me about what a horrible day I'm having.  She, being nothing sort of amazing, just listens and loves me and makes me feel better.  Then, when I arrive home, Yeller number two apologizes!  Wow!  Way to go, God!

Work was awesome.  Aside from my arm hurting and making it difficult to use, work was the one thing that didn't go haywire this week.  I got to learn different things in another department and I love learning so it was awesome.

I was reminded that it is okay to have time for me.  Even if it's when the kids need me.  They can actually take care of themselves.  I was reminded that I am loved.  Something I tend to forget regularly.

I can happily say that a great time was had by all and that my beloved is home safe and sound.  While my arm is still hurting more on than off, and I had a horrible week, I still can count my blessings and there are always too many to count.  Thank you 8.5 lb baby Jesus!

Until next time,
Don't be to hard on yourself.

Love,
Me

Update

This has to be a first for me, not blogging for a whole month, but I was in hiding.

Why was I hiding?  That's something I really don't want to share.  However, what I did learn in hiding is that Carol always finds me, Tina holds my hand while I hide, and no one can do things like me, because they aren't me.  I'm trying to find a balance between what I want to be and what is and is not going to change.  This is very difficult for both my head and my heart.

Tomorrow starts week nine of my new job.  I am still loving it and finally getting the hang of it.  I've made a couple friends who I really, really like.  I'm very thankful for my new job and my new friends.

That is all I've got.
Until next time,
Happy Advent
Love,
Me

Aaron, Hur, and Me

Some days at Mass, my mind wanders.  Some days, I'm truly present and can hear and comprehend absolutely every word.  Yesterday, was a mix of both.

The first reading, from Exodus I was truly present for.  Then, I was gone.  I spent the rest of the Mass thinking about that reading.  See, Moses was fighting a battle (aren't we all fighting some kind of battle every day?).  As long as he had his arms raised.  As long as he did this, they were winning.  When his arms grew tired and he put them down, they weren't winning so much as losing.  So, his brother Aaron and a friend named Hur found  a rock for Moses to sit on and hold his hands up.  Then, when Aaron's arms got too heavy, Aaron and Hur held his arms up.  Each on one side.  Spoiler alert, they win the battle.

Here's what struck me.  Just because your family doesn't mean you're going to help each other out.  Heck a lot of families don't even talk to each other (see my entire life up to this point if you don't believe me).  Then, there's the friend Hur.  To me, he represents the friends that become family.  Who else, but someone who loves you would take on such a task?  Okay, okay, so you're sitting there thinking "all they did was hold up his arms.  Moses had the hard part".  Well, let's look at this shall we?

Moses was sitting on a rock.  And with his arms raised, they had to be as high as Aaron and Hur's chest, if not higher.  Have you ever been to a prayer group where you hold hands in a circle?  Some people in chairs, some on the floor?  You're hands are all different heights.  You're supporting each other.  You look for ways to lean your arm on your leg.  And, sometimes you ask God to hold your arms up because they're just too heavy (instead of rushing the prayer along.  Never, ever, rush the prayer along.  It's a truly beautiful moment!).  I imagine that's what Aaron and Hur felt like.  Holding someone up is never easy.  It's not suppose to be.  Look at my favorite parable about the guy on the mat who gets lowered down from the roof.  His friends carried him on his mat.  Then lowered him.  This was a full grown man!  I'm sure he weighed more than a sac of potatoes.  So, I spent most of yesterday pondering on Aaron and Hur.  Did they hold up Moses' arms because he told them too?  Because they were his friends and family?  Because it was expected of them?  I think it's mostly all of them.  I think it has to do with their love for God and for Moses.

Change is never easy.  Unless it is happening to someone else.  Sometimes, it's very easy to support my friends and the choices that they make.  It's easy to say "it'll be okay!" when unwanted change happens to them.  It's when unwanted change happens to me that I get snippy.  Sometimes, however, there comes a situation where I cannot help my friends or my family.  I cannot lift up their hands.  I cannot lower them down from the roof.  I am helpless.  I hate the feeling of helplessness.  I can't fix it.  So, I love.  I lavish them with more love.  I hold their hand, hug them and sometimes just sit and be with them and pray.   How cool is it that Moses had Aaron and Hur to hold him up during this battle?

I have a small, close knit group of friends who hold each other up in much the same way as Moses was held up.  And, like I mentioned last post, being one of low self-esteem, it is wonderful to know that I have my small circle of friends to count on.

Until next time,
Give your friend a hug.

Love,
Me

Still learning...

So, I've been at my new job for over a week.  I'm still liking it.  Of course, it's what I call the honeymoon phase of any new job.  The first six months.  Everything is new and challenging.  After six months, will the days still fly by?  Will I still love it?  We just have to wait, but I'm suspecting the answer will be a yes :D

I've been learning a lot about myself lately.  When it comes to myself, I'm a low self esteem Debby Downer. I don't know why.  Call it crap from my childhood (which is weird because in my late teens and my 20's I was awesome and could do anything, just ask me!) or daddy issues.  I feel I am nothing special.  Now, don't get me wrong, my mom has told me for years how special I am.  How smart I am.  But she's my mom, she has to say it.  Then, there's my husband.  He says the same as my mom.  He has to say it.  Then there are my friends.  They have to say it, they're my friends.  Then, there's God.  He has to say it, he's my Dad.  He's suppose to believe in me no matter what.

Last week, my first official week at my new job, was a lot of work.  And, from what I hear, it will take about two months to grasp everything until it becomes habit because there's such a plethora of information.  It's a lot of numbers (my favorite, actually.  Little known fact, I love math.  Basic math.  I love it and it makes me happy.  Algebra was was best subject.  Although, I've forgotten just about all of it. lol).  It's a lot to take in, but I'm getting there.  One day last week I told my husband and my mom how it was the first time in a while I actually felt smart.  Both of them lamented that they've been telling me that for years.  See, my problem is I don't think I'm anything special.  I'm no different than you.   Everything I can do, you can do.  But on the flip side, everything you can do, I cannot.  I have a ton of friends who are runners.  They run marathons, they run 5ks, they run laps.  Me, I run to the store or the fridge.  I have an easy out, I have arthritis in my knees.  I really can't run.  Trust me, almost two years ago, I did boot camp religiously.  I had to run, it was not pretty. I have friends who home school.  Yea, I am so not cut out for that.  But, you get the idea, everything I can do you can do.  Everything you can do, I cannot.  My husband and my mom put a little chink in my armor this weekend.  Apparently, not everyone can do my new job.  That's why they hired me.  Apparently, not everyone can do everything I can do.  Huh.  That's a little interesting.  As of right now, it's a little chink in the armor.  Some day, who knows, maybe the armor will be gone all together?

The one thing I do know about myself, the one thing I love about myself is that I love.  I love deeply, greatly, and unconditionally.  And, I love you!

Until next time,
Give yourself a hug from me.  And, remember God and I think you're pretty special!

I Am My Beloved's and My Beloved is Mine

Well, I've officially survived my first week at my new job!!!  It's a lot of learning new stuff and I like that.  I'm using my brain more instead of having it on auto-pilot which is good.  The drawback however is at the end of the week, I've had  a headache for two days.  Kind of like studying hard for a test and your head hurts afterwards.

I'm learning to adjust to little things, like an hour for lunch (bonus!), my own mini office (i.e. cubicle), getting to have lunch with my husband during the week (bonus #2!), and being tired from my new work schedule from 8-5.  But, I love it.  I love the challenge of learning something new.  I love that I'm not an admin like I use to be, that I'm an actual cog in the wheel.  I feel like a full fledged grown up!  But, not to worry, my inner child still and always will rule!

While I am excited to go back to work tomorrow, I'm even more excited because it's one of my favorite days of the year (I have lots of favorite days of the year).  This one has to be in the top two.  It's the 13th anniversary of my wedding to my guardian angel, George!  For those of you who don't know, I call him my guardian angel because God sent him when I needed him most and I didn't even know I needed him.  Funny how that's changed.  I know, daily, how much I need him.  While God is the rock and portion forever, my husband is my rock here on earth.  Things have changed in our 13 years of marriage.  He's changed.  I've changed.

I grew up watching Cinderella.  It was my favorite movie as a kid.  That and Funny Girl.  I spent the better part of my teens and twenties looking for a prince to come rescue me.  What my beloved Disney classic doesn't show you is Cinderella paying bills.  Cinderella with kids.  Cinderella with her friends.  Her Prince comes and marries her.  The end.  However, her end, was just my beginning.  God sent me George.  And, having the most beautiful wedding, I was now ready to live happily ever after and ride into the sunset.  My life is now complete.  Funny, no?  Six months after our marriage, George experience the first of a few layoffs. Like any couple, occasionally, we'd argue.  I'd argue to win.  No matter the cost.  It was about winning, not about my husband's feelings.  We've moved across country away from our families and to Kansas.  This is where I began to grow up.  Yes, I was now in my thirties, but hey we each grow at our own pace!  I learned to rely on my husband.  That he was more than a Prince in a suit.  That he was my friend, my best friend and my biggest supporter.  I learned to lean on him.  Then we moved to Texas.  Now, you know that's love when a girl from the 'burgh will move to cowboy territory! lol  Here, I have grown exponentially.  I've grown in friendship with others.  I've learned to be a friend and how to accept friendships.  Okay, so I still hold my friendships with a tight grasp, what can I say, I love them all.  I grew exponentially in my faith.  I'm not born again.  I was baptized Catholic and it wasn't till I was thirty-five that I started to 'get' it.  That's when I like to say my light was turned on.  Growing in my faith, I was blessed to watch my husband's faith grow as well.  And, in the growing of our faith, so did our marriage.  It's been eons since I've fought to win.  We rarely argue, being so close to being of one mind and one body.  Sure, we disagree occasionally, but we've learned (or rather I've learned) the art of compromise.  

While I am not perfect, I am perfectly human.  I have learned a lot about myself that I'd never would have known if it wasn't for my husband.  He's so strong and smart.  He's the analytic one with his feet firmly planted on the ground.  Me, I'm the dreamer.  The one who doesn't just have my head in the clouds, but my whole body as well, soaring, flying.  When need be, I bring my beloved up in the clouds with me, and likewise, when needed, he plants my feet firmly on the ground next to him.  Our marriage has been nothing but a blessing to me, everyday.  My husband not only continues to make me feel loved and heard and respected.  He makes me feel *cherished*, something I never even knew I could feel.

Being married to George, we laugh all the time.  Every day in fact.  We joke, we kid, we love, we pray.  We don't just love each other, we actually like each other and that's a good thing.  So, on the eve of our thirteenth anniversary, I want to wish my beloved most happy anniversary with many, many, many more to come.

I love you, Gus.  Always.

Until next time,

Pray for your spouse

Love,

Me

Sloppy Joe

So, remember this summer when I said I was working on a couple projects and I'd let you know when something happened?

Well, something happened!  At least on the one project anyway!

I have a new job!

Let me back up for a bit.  For the last almost five years, I have been a lunch lady at the local school district.  I started because my husband had lost his job and when he got hired on as a contractor, there were no benefits.  So, I became a lunch lady.  At first I was so excited!  Part time hours, decent pay, benefits, summers off!  Then, as time went on, I learned exactly how hard the job is.  In a nutshell, they pay you to be a mom.  You do laundry, cook, clean, put away the groceries (a lot are very heavy) do dishes and serve children.  You listen to their smart mouths (quite a few of them actually) and do it all with a smile.  You have to adhere to strict government regulations and regular (i.e. not government) inspectors.  When the President's wife chooses your occupation as her new project, things change drastically.

You work mostly with women.  Seven in fact.  So, someone is always pmsing, having a hot flash, irritable, cranky, quiet, and/or loud (ps. I'm the loud one).  And, sometimes, that's just one person! lol  You learn the dance.  You learn when you can joke with certain people.  You learn when not too.  You learn compassion.  You work on your patience.  You try not to complain.  You make friends, lifelong friends.  You learn new ways to do things.  You share your life with these women.  It can be a beautiful thing.

Then, change happens.  In the time I was there, we went through three managers, two employees, and a plethora of subs (substitutes).  Last year, we existed on a rotation of subs the entire year since an employee had left the year before.  You learn pretty fast who is a good worker, who is not.  It was hard because you're really working hard to get all the work done all while understaffed.  Just because you have a sub, i.e. a warm body doesn't mean they actually work.  We had one lady who would stand there, arms in front of her, like she was waiting for a bus! lol

Towards the end of last school year, I decided this lunch lady gig was no longer for me.  There's a lot of drama and even more politics.  I know it's prevalent in every job, but this one was overflowing.  So, on the last day of the school year, I started looking for a job.  A full time job that would utilize my prior administrative experience.  I applied to so many jobs this summer.  I even started a secret facebook group to keep my friends updated on my job search!  It was called Gina's job search that never ends lol.  I prayed a lot and was very disheartened when I realized I had to go back to being a lunch lady this year.  Yet, I pressed on!  I kept applying everywhere I thought I would be a good match.  This year brought even more drama.  A new manager who is going to work out well.  A new employee who, well, lets just say I have a rather unsavory opinion of, and a sub whom I just think is all that and a bag of chips!  There were lots of changes.  New way things are being done.  And, when you're use to doing things one way, you balk, LOUDLY, at the changes.  Some of the changes weren't so good.  Some, meh, I'd deal with it.  The first week it was so bad, I came home in tears, twice!  At least twice I almost walked out.  This was about me and my needs and how I liked things the way they were (mostly).  I don't like change (unless I hit the lottery, then okay :D)!

I prayed so much I'm pretty sure God was tired of listening to me (note:  He never does.  He loves me more than I can even fathom!).  I did a lot of yelling, crying, stomping my feet, and told Him that I trusted Him and wanted His will for me as long as it was what my plan was for me.  Note:  It doesn't work like that. lol  So after a while, I finally accepted my lunch lady fate for this year.  Then, I get a call about a job.  We talk for a while and then they invite me in for a formal interview.  The interview was two hours!  And, I can tell you, it was the first time in my entire life that I've ever been so calm.  I was peaceful, calm, and happy.  Usually, I'm super nervous and anxious.  But, nope, not this time (Thank you Holy Trinity!).  They offered me the job on the spot!  I will now be working for a mortgage loan servicing company.  I'll tell you more about it later when I'm actually doing it and getting the hang of it :D

When I told one of my friends, she was so excited for me (as they all were) but she said something that struck me.  Joan said I was brilliant.  Not smart.  Brilliant!  This is hard for me to except.  I guess it's part of my low self esteem issues, but I balk when paid a compliment.  "Oh, they don't mean it".  "They're just being polite".  Especially, when it comes to my knowledge.  I always quote the old adage 'surround yourself we people smarter than you, then you are smart by association.'  My husband has an Ivy League education.  I have a high school diploma and some college.  While he's never done anything to make me feel less than.  I feel less than.  The nerves have already started about the new job.  Will I be good at it?  Will I do okay?  Will I move up in the company?  Will I get along with people?  Will they accept me?   When will I *finally* be good at something?  That's a big one.   I spent the better part of my weekend realizing and believing that God can do anything.  I know He can.  Just not that I can.

Yesterday was my last day at work.  I'm sad to leave my friends Shortie and Monaco.  My Kathy has already been gone four and a half weeks.  But, friendships, real friendships, they keep up no matter where you are and if you are still working together or not.  Kathy is a great example of that.  We still talk.  Which is good, because I'd be so bummed if we didn't.  I'm on to the next chapter of my work life!  I'd like to thank all the members of my secret facebook group who prayed for me, supported me, and loved me through all of my whining.  I love you all.

Until next time,

Pray for my Carol.  

Love,

Me

24601

Spoiler warning.  If you have not seen Les Miserables, the play or the movie, read at your own risk.  

I warned you.

Last chance.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Les Miserables has become one of my favorite movies.  If you told me I'd love a movie or a play about the French Revolution I'd say you were nuts.  But, alas, I do.  Actually, love is to light a word to describe my feelings about the film.

To me, this is a very Catholic film.  It's a film about love, grace, and redemption.  It's a film that makes me cry.  Every time.  There are so many fabrics weaved into the story.  But I want to focus on just one for now.  The fabric of prisoner 24601 Jean Valjean.  Valjean stole a loaf of bread to feed his nephew and was caught.  Because he tried to escape many times, he spent nineteen years doing hard labor.  After his release, he breaks parole.  He makes his way to a church where a Priest grants him solace along with grace and mercy. During the night, Valjean steals all the silver from the church and runs off.  He gets caught immediately and the police take him back to the church and talk to the Priest.  The Priest, showing more grace and mercy tell the police that he *gave* Valjean the silver and proceeds to give Valjean silver candlesticks telling him he forgot those and to use them well.  At this point in the movie, Valjean ends up in the sacristy and is touched by the grace of the Priest and of Jesus.  He cannot understand Jesus grace and love for him and I must confess, many days, I feel the same.

Fast forward through the movie.  Moved by grace, Valjean turns his life around.  He has become a respected member of society.   Unbeknownst to him, he makes a bad decision regarding a worker named Fantine.  She loses her job and takes to the streets to support her daughter.  When Fantine is discovered by Valjean again, she is a shell of herself.  She has been used, abused, and is dying.  He realizes what he has done and takes her in and cares for as she dies and promises to raise her daughter as his own and he does.

Throughout the film, Valjean helps others all while evading the police who recognize him as the man who broke parole all those years ago.  The police officer doesn't care what Valjean has done in the time since.  What good works he has done, all those he has helped.  He only sees the prisoner he once knew.  He's all about following the letter of the law.  No grey, only black and white.  Towards the end of the film, Valjean takes the opportunity to bestow mercy and grace on the officer.  This confuses the officer and he is forced to deal with the grey. 

The church is it's own character in the movie.  It's where Valjean meets the priest who shows him mercy and grace.  Then, in the middle of the film, he comes to a convent seeking sanctuary.  Then, at the end of his life, he comes back to the convent to die.  The ending scene gets me every time.  Valjean sings a beautiful song to Jesus about how he is ready to come home.  And, Fantine, comes back to bring him home.  And, in one of my favorite lines of the entire film says "to love another person is to see the face of God".   

No matter how many times I watch the movie, I identify with so many of the characters, but none more than Jean Valjean.  We are both granted, unworthily, Jesus grace and mercy. We are both moved by the kindness of others.  We both change our lives for the better.  We both find solace and love in our faith.  And, no matter how much good we do (or think we do) we are pursued by our past.  Whether it be in Valjeans case, police officer, or in mine, falling into the devils snares of anger, jealousy, greed and so many more.  Watching this film reminds me of who I want to be to others.  How I want to show others, who I feel who don't deserve it, God's love and mercy.  And, give it freely.  Something that is so hard to do.

 This movie may not have intended to be Catholic, not even Christian.  And, I'm sure others who have seen it don't see it that way.  But for me, and my faith, I could not help but see it as so.  And, after all, who am I?  Who am I?  I'm Jean Valjean.

Until next time,

Watch the movie.  I promise you, you'll love it.

Love,

Me