An Ode to Eos

It sits there.  On my computer.  Right next to my mini Sheldon.

It's there in my car.  Next to me.  In the cup holder.

It's next to my bed.  On the nightstand.  Waiting.

There's one in the bathroom, too.

Yet.....

I continually choose to ignore it.  To forget it's there.  To ignore the smoke signals, the reminders, the quiet whispers, the louder shouts.  I ignore them all.

"I'm right here!  In front of your face!"  It declares.

"Go ahead, grab me!  You know you need me!"  It boasts.

"C'm on!  It's not gonna do anything bad!"  It exclaims.

"What's it going to hurt?  Nothing!  It's only going to help!" It cries.

"Why the #%&$ aren't you grabbing me?!?" It taunts.

Stupid chapstick.

Or.  Maybe I'm the stupid one.  Considering I will easily go all day ignoring my lip's plea for respite, for relief, for the simple coating that restores them to peace.  One would think that I must prefer to torture myself, to let my lips burn day in and day out.

(You know this isn't about the chapstick.  Right?)

It's something I'm trying to do.  Trying to stop ignoring the pain, and start reaching for the solution.  Especially when it's less than an arm's length away.  Truth be told, I've always been great at torturing myself, and I've always sucked at being kind to myself.  That's slowly starting to head in the direction of change.

And as my dietitian says,
"Just grab the #$@% chapstick!"

I'm trying.  Or, at least, I'm trying to start trying.

Value & Change

Yesterday wasn't the greatest day.

It started way too early with fits of nightmares interrupting my sleep from about 2am on.  

It continued with the Pup and some bladder issues.  From there, a full on melt-down resulted in a two hour nap with my fingers wrapped around my security trinket that I 

have when my therapist is away.  Insert some hyperventilating, waterworks, and a bit 

of self-destruction, and that wraps up the pathetic (and sizable) portion of my day.

Thankfully, my day ended much better than it started.  Sort of.

The upside is that the peanut spent the night so that my brother and sister-in-law could enjoy a night out and sleep past 7:00am.  I love the time we spend together.  Between dinner (I think the Pup at the most!) and snuggles before bed?  Serious yum.  I don't know 

if there is anything better than having a baby snuggling into you, one fist full of blanket, 

one fist wrapped around your hair, as they drift off to sleep.... melts even the coldest moments inside me.

It was a bit tougher when peanut went to bed, though.  Cause once again, my mind crept in.  This time, bringing a fairly familiar ponderance.  Everyone else's time, especially the time of those that support me, is much more valuable than my time.  So when someone says that they were thinking about me when they saw whatever it was that reminded them of me, I worry.  I worry that they're spending time on me when it could be spent on better things.  And when my dietitian responds to my daily check-in email, my first thought is always "doesn't matter how much this helps me, she's got better things to do with her time outside the office than spend it replying to me."  Or when my therapist says "I was thinking about what you said the other day and...." in my head, I'm thinking, "crap, she was wasting time outside of the office on me again."

Pathetic.  Pretty darn unkind if you ask me.

Some how, that everyone-elses-time-is-more-important-than-mine 

thought led to the following question:

Is it really possible for me to get over this huge wall I've built to trap myself in the small, silly world of ever-lasting childish tendencies and become the person that my team knows I am?

Not sure how one thing led to another, but, there it is.  

A huge, huge question.  

A massive realization. 

And a heck of a lot of work behind what appears to be a rather simple, 

yes or no question....

Be Kind

I particularly like this Sketches in Stillness image because it is such a great reminder for this time of year.... Especially as we begin to think about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, and his peaceful premise...... something that seems to be frequently forgotten these days......

You Can Tell Me

Four simple words.
Short.
One syllable.
Unremarkable apart.
But together?

Those four words flooded my heart,
filling me with the warmth only a hug brings.

Four little words,
spoken at just the right moment,
turned a fear-filled few minutes
with hope.......
with understanding.......
with possibility.........

And filled me
with gratitude........
with appreciation.......
with faith........

You can tell me.

You.
Can.
Tell.
Me.

Thank you.
Thank you thank you thank you.

Act 25

This act might sound a little different than the others have.  It is a very personal act, and very deliberate, and no less powerful than the rest.  Interestingly, while I was the giver of the act, I definitely received something particular in this one.

I do not have the greatest relationship with my family.  They are my family and I love them, but I love them even more from a distance, be it space or time (and often, both.)  My siblings speak with my parents on a daily basis.  I don't.  Doesn't mean I love them any less.  My parents would love to talk to me multiple times a day (and sometimes they attempt to do so) but that doesn't work for me.

My mom always tells me that my dad loves when I call him.  He works long hours on his feet all day, and when he hears from me, when I call him instead of him calling me, it just makes his day.  This is my mom's (not so) subtle way of telling me to call him.  Well, today I did.  I caught him on his way into work, and he was elated to hear from me.  I don't often do what my family wishes I would, but making this call to my dad, without my mom "prompting" me to do so..... I did this act for her, for my dad, and for Anne Marie Murphy.

Anne Marie was "just" a teacher's aide, however, those in education know that a teacher's aide is as vital of a role as a teacher when it comes to the classroom.  And in this case, 52 year old Anne Marie, who not only helped in art and special ed, she also gave her life protecting one of her students.  Though they both lost their lives, Dylan's parents find comfort in knowing that he was not alone when he died.... he was with his beloved aide.  Loving children was part of Anne Marie's world.  She had a large family, and enjoyed being around them.  She lived her life helping children, and her life was cut short while doing the same thing.

Act 24

People who say money makes the world go round are missing out on what really makes the world go round.  Kindness.  So for the benefit of those who might be missing out on the kindness, I decided to combine the two.  This way, someone who may be focused on money, will hopefully stop and smile, and maybe even pass the kindness of that simple smile along...... this may be my act 24, but kindness being passed from person to person need not be tallied or counted....

And all the good Dawn Hochsprung put into the world was not countable either.  She reportedly intentionally placed herself in the path of the shooter, trying to protect the school that she called her own.  As principal, 47 year old Dawn was an award winner.  She loved what she did, and she did it well.  To encourage a love of reading, Dawn called upon the "Sandy Hook Book Fairy" as she happily motivated her school to read.  She was a wife, mother, grandmother, and a principal pursuing a doctorate degree in her "free time."  She put so much kindness into the world, she will always be remembered.

Act 23

Do you remember, when you were a kid, and you'd see a row of newspaper boxes?  You'd run over and check all the change receptacle to see if anyone left their change?

Do you remember doing the same thing at vending machines?  Only you'd check both the change receptacle AND the drop area to see if anyone forgot to grab their goodies?

You might not have done that, but I did.  Hit the jackpot once, too, when I found like $3.00 in quarters in a row of newspaper boxes.  It was awesome!

For this 23rd act, I decided to give someone a smile, the kind that lit me up when I found that jackpot of quarters.  I went to the first vending machine I found, slid my dollar in, and entered the numbers for peanut m&ms (my favorite!)  And then I left them sitting there.  In the bottom of the drop area.  Waiting for the next person to come along and smile as they find their freebie.

And this act is for the teacher that really made me look at my classroom differently that Monday when I returned to school.  27 year old Victoria Soto hid her students in closets and cabinets to save their lives, in exchange for her own.  When I walked back into my classroom that Monday morning, I looked for where I could do the same if need be, where I could hide a student or two or 24.

Victoria was working her dream job as a teacher, and loved her students in room 10.  She was also working toward her Master's Degree in special education.  Outside of teaching she enjoyed being with her family, and was active in her church.  Another life cut short, she will be remembered as a hero, one who did something no education class could ever prepare you to do.

Act 22

I saw this quote somewhere and it made me smile.  It was a sad sort of smile, though, because sometimes I forget that I am someone's reason to smile and it takes me a little while to remember the smiles that greet me every morning at school.

Anyway, I picked this quote and this book very purposefully.  My therapist introduced me to another book, The Dance of Anger by this author and I found it quite helpful.  That book wasn't in stock at the store, but knowing how much it helped me, and how anxious I was when I first opened it, I thought that reading this quote as someone delves into this topic might give them a little reassurance....

Reassurance was something Lauren Rousseau was good at.  She dreamed of being a teacher from the time she was a child, playing school with her toys as students.  When 30 year old Lauren accepted a full time teaching position at Sandy Hook, she was ready to reassure the students that she encountered.  Lauren worked a second job at Starbucks, and in her free time she enjoyed spending time with her friends, her boyfriend, and her cat.  Her family has found comfort in knowing that Lauren was happiest during this past year, as she finally was fulfilling her dream of teaching.

Act 21

One of the things I struggle with is self-care.  I tend to put myself last.... after the last person.... cause I'm still exploring my self-worth.  That's why this act was a hard, but necessary one for me, because it kind of reminded me that I need to practice what I preach.  And that means, if I'm encouraging others to take care of their bodies.... well, I need to do the same.

And I'm going to try.  Try, at least, to do more than what my team has me doing already.  Which is a lot.... but they can't do this kind of work for me.  They can't drag me to my yoga mat.  So I'm hoping that someone finds this note, reads it, and steps up to the self-care plate, which is where I am headed.

It's also where 29 year old Rachel D'Avino lived.  She lived a life where care was first and foremost.  Rachel was a behavioral therapist working with children, hoping to help them find a happy and healthy life.  She always went above and beyond in caring for those she worked with.... including herself.  Rachel loved animals, cooking, baking, and karate.  Her boyfriend was her best friend.... and now the woman working on her doctorate will be forever known as a saint that gave her life in protecting those she cared about.

Act 20

I've been taking some risks this week in my 26 Acts, but I think it's worth the risk if it helps even one person.  Continuing with the connection of National Eating Disorder Awareness Week, I created a poster/flyer talking about NEDA week.  At the bottom of the flyer, I created those little pull tabs, so people can tear one off as needed.  Each tab provides the NEDA website and phone number.  The hope is that someone will call upon their courage, take a tab, and make contact with someone who can really help make a difference.  It was definitely another heart pounder as I slipped into the posting area of the library nearby.  But it was a risk work taking.  And I took the risk in memory of Allison Wyatt.

Six year old Allie was a quiet, shy, and very loving little girl.  She was sweet and caring, and loved everything.  Allie had a goofy sense of humor and loved making those close to her, including her sister Lauren, laugh. A budding artist, Allie's drawings and paintings were all over her families house.  Another life cut short, yet those that knew Allie will always have her in their hearts.

Act 19

One of my students introduced me to this author, and one of my friends introduced me to this specific book.  It is truly my favorite.  I have it on my kindle, so whenever I need a pick-me-up, I can read it, wherever I am.  The story is especially sweet because of the way it connects such different souls, and leaves each one better than it was before.  I left this sticky note on the cover of the last copy at the book store, and hope the person who finds this will be even more eager to read the story!

Avielle Rose Richman might have liked this book.  A spitfire of a six-year-old who loved to tell stories, she offered her heart to the world, and the world loved her right back.  Avie enjoyed horseback riding, music, archery, kung fu, and especially participating in adventures like a super hero.  She had an infectious smile and her laughter brightened a room.  And now, maybe her soul has landed in the stars....

Act 18

I found a new resource this week, one that actually shared some pretty scary statistics.  This sign that I hung up in the parenting section of a local book store says "There's a 0.003% chance she'll be a lawyer.  There's a 42% chance she'll wish she was thinner by the time she gets to 3rd grade."  Fit vs. Fiction has a few of these posters floating around to bring awareness to the pressures kids face.  As one who has taught 3rd grade, and who is recovering from an eating disorder, this one really hit me hard.  I can't imagine one of my students wanting to be thinner.  I mean, eight year olds should not be worrying about their weight!  They should be out playing, running, enjoying life....

Especially considering Caroline Previdi lost her life at six years old.  A loyal Yankee fan to the core, Caroline was a caring, compassionate child.  She loved pink, and danced instead of walked much of the time.  This smiley child, nicknamed "Silly Caroline" also had a very caring side.  She broke her piggy bank open to donate to her church collection to buy toys for needy children.  She sat with her neighbor, a kindergartener, on the bus each day so he wasn't scared.  A beautiful child who will always be remembered...

Act 17

You know how when you go grocery shopping they're always asking if you're interested in supporting a cause of sorts?  Maybe your grocery store doesn't do that, but mine does.  And it used to annoy me.  But when I went through the check out the other day, this caught my eye.  Maybe it's the combination of the acts thus far, maybe it's cause MDA is close to my heart.... but without hesitation or thought, I picked one up, signed it "#26Acts" and added it to my purchases.  I've been trying to be creative and not spend a lot of money on these acts.  And while this was a larger donation than I intended, it felt right.  It felt helpful.  It felt good.

Both of which are things that six year old Jack Pinto would have liked.  An incredibly loving and lively boy, Jack had a way of making all who knew him fall in love with is vivacious spirit.  He loved playing sports - flag football, baseball, basketball, wrestling, and skiing.  Jack brought joy into so many lives, and his joy will live forever in the hearts of those who knew him.

Act 16

Since I'm wrapping up my 26 Acts during National Eating Disorder Awareness Week, it seemed quite fitting to connect the two.

These notes were dropped off in two different stores on the same day, giving Act 16 a pretty wide reach.  See, I had my eating disorder for nearly half my life before anyone realized what was happening.  My hope is that maybe these notes will save someone else the length of suffering that I endured.... and bring recovery a little bit closer, if only in the knowledge department.

Smiley Grace McDonnell lived a life free of worrying about weight.  Instead, seven year old Grace focused on art and painting.  She loved art, and wanted to one day live on the beach and be a painter.  Grace was a kind soul with a great and gentle spirit, and will be missed by many.

Act 15

Operation Beautiful does this thing called "No Make up Monday" and as a gal who goes make-up free everyday, I thought this would be a fun combination  of 26 Acts and the whole idea of Operation Beautiful's accepting inner beauty would be a great combination.  So often we spend countless dollars and countless hours making ourself beautiful on the outside, when really.... It's our inner beauty that radiates the strongest.

Jesse Lewis was a six year old whose inner light shined in all he did. He lived with passion, love, and wisdom well beyond this young souls life.  Jesse wase full of love for his family, life, and the house full of animals he loved, from horses, dogs and even a mini-donkey.  This brave soul, while no longer, lighting the earth, his lightness will live for ever in our hearts.

Act 14

You know how much I dislike shopping.  Well, clothes shopping is the worst of them all.  And trying on clothes?  I despise it.  I've been known to order a bunch of clothes online, have it shipped, try it on at home, and return what doesn't fit to the local store.  I go to great lengths to avoid dressing rooms and mirrors.

But this time was a little different.  I had a very good reason to head into the dressing room.  To leave this note.  Yes, I did try on two pairs of pants while I was in there, and yes, it was hard, but leaving the note?  That made it all worth it, cause I know the next person in that dressing room is going to smile.

I think that Josephine Gay would be smiling as well. Seven year old "Joey" as she was known to her friends, had just turned seven.  Joey was a very special child, as most children with special needs are.  Autistic and non-verbal, she touched lives of all around her without saying a word.  Joey's favorite color was purple (which is mine, too!) and in the wake of the tragedy, purple sprouted up everywhere in her honor.  In addition to her many therapy treatments, she loved to play with her Barbies, swim, sing, and be wherever her sisters were.

Act 13

Today was a busy day.  I am not a fan of shopping at all, and today I tackled way too many errands at once.  But I got them all done.  And ironically, the thing that took the longest wasn't the finding of items on my list.  It was the finding of the quiet moment to slip a note up here and there, and capture a picture of said note, without getting "caught" in the act.

I got this idea from Arielle's Project Positive Thinking.  As I pulled into the parking lot today, my heart was actually pounding in anticipation of leaving this note on someone's car.  I found an older model mini-van that looked well loved and slipped the note under the wiper.  I hope that the recipient smiled as wide as my heart smiled in carrying out this act.

And Dylan Hockley made lots of people smile in his short life.  Six year old Dylan and his older brother were the best of friends.  They both shared a love of family time, and though they were born in England, they quickly acclimated to their new school, making many new friends.  Dylan was an excellent student who loved school.  In his final moments, he was safely wrapped in the arms of his aide, who helped him maneuver school with autism.  He is missed by many.

Act 12

I was at the pet store stocking up on a few things for the Pup.  My little guy has truly brightened my life, and my heart goes out to all pet owners who rescue a furry little friend and care for them for the rest of their life.  I am especially appreciative of those who rescue senior pets, that takes a special person with a huge heart to do so.

What better way to thank someone for taking care of a senior dog than to leave a smile on their next bag of dog food!  I left this note on a bag of "mature" food for small dogs, and hope whoever finds it can feel that gratitude, from both their dog and from me.

Catherine Hubbard was a child full of smiles.  She had firey red hair and a passionate love for animals.  Her constant smile will be missed by many, and because of her love for animals, family and friends are honoring Catherine with donations to the Newtown Animal Shelter.

Act 11

Today I took a trip to the local library to pick up some things they were holding for me.  I'm having so much fun finding creative ways to complete my #26Acts without breaking the bank, and it struck me that a hand written note on a movie I love might make someone smile.  So I wrote this little note, stuck it on one of my favorite DVDs, and slipped it back on the shelf, where it will patiently await the person who will hopefully smile when they pull it off the shelf.

And this movie-inspired act is in memory of Daniel Barden.  This incredibly polite, affectionate, and thoughtful seven year old earned his torn jeans and toothless grin.  Daniel was a budding athlete, who enjoyed swimming, soccer, and football.  Overflowing with happiness and zest for life, this fearless little boy will be missed by many.

Act 10

Tonight I had a rare treat - I got to go out to eat!  What's extra nice is that it was a restaurant that I actually could eat at - the wide variety of options was wide enough to accommodate my allergies.  Even better was that I got to enjoy the meal with two of my colleagues.  It was a relaxing meal with pleasant conversation and good food.

Money's been kind of tight lately, but that isn't going to get in my way of my 26 Acts.  It just means that I've had to get a little bit creative!

So tonight, once I knew what I was ordering, I placed this note in my menu.  I don't know about you, but if I found a note like this in a menu, it would definitely  make me smile!  I hope that whoever opens this menu next, also smiles.

And this smile is in memory of Benjamin Wheeler.  Six year old Ben was a bright and spirited child, who idolized his big brother Nate.  Ben played soccer, swam, and was in scouts.  He loved school, seeing his teacher and friends, and wanted to be an architect or paleontologist when he grew up.  Ben also loved The Beatles, which is a refreshing thing for a child to love.  Ben will be missed by many, as he left behind a huge family of love.