We do what we can with what we have

Posted by random olio

I subscribe to Runner’s World, and when I came across the story of this precious man, I started reading and could not look away from my screen. By the end of the article, there were tears streaming down my face. Against all odds, somehow we all do what we can with what we have each day. Sometimes though I think we have to look at the stories of others to get over ourselves. Bret Dunlap is a man with a story. He has persevered in life, after doctors did not think he would live. He has made a life for himself and eventually that life led to him running.

You hear of that many times, someone is in an accident and almost dies, and somehow is able to come back and kick ass at life. What we do not always see is that it is not easy, that sometimes even against all odds life is harder than one could ever imagine. Bret’s story inspires me. It inspires me to want to do more. My body was not shattered. When I complain about the slightest of pains after a run, or just on a normal day, I need to think of Bret. I cannot even imagine what his path was like to rehabilitation. Have you read his story yet?

If not, you might think my blog today is rambling on, but I hope you take the time to read it. It will make you look at your day differently. It will make you appreciate your legs and your toes, and your back, and your feet. It will make you appreciate that people do not look at you funny. It will make you look at the things you are scared of and maybe take a risk and go and do them. Yes, we do what we can with what we have, but maybe, just maybe we should do more than we can with what we have. Maybe we should push ourselves harder because we can.

Four-year-old inspires

Posted by random olio

For a few years now, I have been watching “So You Think You Can Dance (SYTYCD).” I am not a fan of musicals, sitcoms that have singing, and most dancing shows (you can never get me to watch Dancing with the Stars), but I am a die-hard fan of “SYTYCD.” Why? There are a variety of genres of dance throughout the show. You might see hip hop, modern, tap, salsa, crump, you name it. The contestants are crazy talented, because they have to be able to pick up and learn any style of dance at anytime, and still do it amazingly each week. Not an easy feat. Many professional dancers may only do ballet their entire life, so watching these individuals each week is inspiring.

I am a bit behind on episodes, due to catching up on seasons of “The Good Wife” and “The New Girl,” but this video I want to share is timeless. A four-year-old boy is allowed to come to the auditions, and not only is his dancing and musicality off the charts for his age, so is his answers to Nigel’s questions. I could not resist sharing and hopefully it reminds you that anything is possible.

Did his parents send him to cello classes? No. He gravitated towards a previous contestant, and taught himself at four years old. Inspired?

“Do it right the first time.”

Posted by random olio

“Do it right the first time.” My dad ingrained that into me. Whenever we were asked to do something around the house, my dad would inspect our work. If it was done half ass, we would get the: “Do it again” rant, followed by: “Next time, do it right the first time.” Now I think about that all the time at work and in my personal life.

On Friday someone mentioned Father’s Day, and I thought: “Oh right, Father’s Day is Sunday. I guess I should think about that.” On Sunday we did what my dad probably did many, many Sundays: yard work. My dad was a contractor, he fixed, remodeled, and built homes. What that often meant for his family? We were like the cobbler’s kids without shoes, our house was often run down, at least the interior. I remember rips in carpets, a floor infested with termites, a leak in a ceiling in the dining room, walls that needed to be painted, the list goes on. I think my dad was exhausted from fixing other people’s homes. Or, maybe it was too costly to fix the different areas that needed repairs.

You might think, wow, Tami, this is a post about your dad, and Father’s Day was yesterday. You suck as a daughter, but let me tell you, life with a father has its good days and its bad days. While I have many memories of the inside of our home, our yard was my dad (and mom’s) pride and joy. It was always in tip-top shape. My parents worked for hours and hours each week to weed, water, plant flowers, and keep a vegetable garden in the back. They landscaped, arranged rocked, and pruned trees. If you drove by our house, you might think what a nice looking yard, and it was.

Now that I have a yard of my own, I understand how exhausting it is to keep it up, (and I do not have 3 kids to help either). I also know how rewarding it is, to sit outside and enjoy the fruits of the many hours of labor. There is an appreciation for all you have done. I hope my dad felt the same way, and looked at our yard with pride. Looking back I can see how “doing it right the first time” has weaved its way into the inside and outside of my house. I often approach a project with Chris and plan out how we might do something so we do not cut corners and have to do it again. It is not always flawless, but we try.

Last night, Chris and I sat outside with a drink, put our feet up, and admired the landscape. Miss you, Dad.

Hiding behind my book

Posted by random olio

I probably should have known when I was in elementary school that I had a voracious desire to investigate, learn, and make connections. Maybe it started with my passion for Encyclopedia Brown books. I made it my mission to try to solve the case and learn about any nuances before finishing the book. That has fueled me for many years to come. I love learning new things, finding pieces of information that are missing in a story, and piecing together how each aspect is interconnected with another.

Books would suck me in. I could learn about the drama, excitement, and sometimes boredom of someone else’s life. I could try to guess what I think the author would do, and if they did not, what I would do if I was the author. Was that just a thing I did growing up? Recently I read a brilliant memoir by Julia Sweeney (think “It’s Pat” on Saturday Night Live), called: “It’s Not One Thing, It’s Your Mother.” I laughed a lot, and was impressed not only with her life, but the humor that came out in her writing. This quote from her book made me think of my own childhood:

“While I didn’t like most of my classes at school, I did love to read, always imagining myself as the heroine in a story. I thought being Anne Shirley, the spunky orphan in the Anne of Green Gables series, might be less stressful than dealing with my father’s moods. I identified with Frances Nolan in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and her loving but turbulent relationship with her head-in-the-clouds father. But my most recent favorite was Are you There God? It’s Me, Margaret. I was positive I’d get my period any day.” page 36

My sister might have actually read the entire Anne of Green Gables series, but since I was her constant tag-a-long I saw all the movies with her. Since I was more of a Barbie girl, then a get lost in the field and dream about Gilbert Blythe, I still related to the cantankerous attitude of the sassy red-head. There were times when I would think living in that era would be much easier than my own childhood, or joining the group of girls in The Babysitter’s Club would make all my worries go away.

Just as I would hide under the covers with a flashlight so I could stay up reading, or sneak away to another part of the house to try to get out of chores, books were my solace, comfort, and adventure. Whether I hid behind my book, or let my book launch me into the world of detectives, popularity, or the lust of Gilbert Blythe, I was and will always be transformed by those words on the page.

Losing your temper

Posted by random olio

I have a post-it on my computer screen that says:

“You lose all your control when you lose your temper.” Author unknown.

I do not know where I read it, or who might have shared this idea with me, but it is a good reminder on those tough days when continuous curve balls are thrown your way. Whether it be the angry driver you encounter on the way to work, the woman who cuts in front of you at the grocery store with an overflowing basket, or the customer service agent who was curt and short with you, anger is at times hard to hold back.

For me, I find that at times my anger comes to the surface when I do not feel heard. It can happen with friends, a spouse, family, a stranger, really anyone. Their intentions might be 100% pure, but they might be distracted with their own issues, and the result makes me feel invisible.

A thought came to me the other day. For every situation where I want to react and get angry with an individual, I need to take that frustration and respond with the same love and care that I wanted all along. I will give you an example: If Chris lets me know he will take care of something for us, I then check it off my list of To-Do’s and expect he will take care of it. If I find out later that it was never handled, it might set me off, and make me feel ignored. Instead of reacting with anger, I could respond with how his actions made me feel, and what it means to me when he follows through on his promises. Yes, these are just tiny instances, but each little experience is part of a larger picture. Rather than reacting, stay in control, and share how you feel.

What do you do when you lose your temper? Why do you lose it?