If Blogs Were Houseplants…

If blogs were houseplants, I would be in serious trouble!  They would surely be dead by now.  I have been neglecting my blogs lately.  They are shriveling and drying up.  They are crying out desperately for some love and attention.  And I really don’t blame them…

When I started all three of my blogs I didn’t really have a plan.  It was more of an impulse.  I had some ideas.  I live to write.  I wanted some place where I could write whatever inspired me.  And it wouldn’t hurt for me to have some extra writing practice either.  So, I jumped in headfirst, eager to test the waters.

At first, my enthusiasm carried me along.  Sometimes I would go a few days without posting, but I eagerly came running back  I never run out of ideas to write about, so I was convinced that at least three posts per blog per week would be a breeze.

Boy, was I wrong!  I never planned on my son having difficulties in school and needing much more of my attention for the 2012-2013 school year.  I had underestimated how greatly my fibromyalgia affects my concentration and my ability to sit at a desk.  I hadn’t planned on my mom getting married or the week-long vacation that followed.  Oh, and I never realized how insane it can be to plan your own wedding in only three months.

I know, excuses, excuses.  Blogs are a commitment and when we start them we make a promise to our readers to keep them up and running.  Still, knowing now where I went wrong from the beginning, I can now make a new beginning and start over fresh.  From now on, I’m going to put regular posts into my schedule, and even if it is only once a week per blog until I get my true blogging legs, at least I can revel in the consistency.

Thank you for understanding and supporting my journey into blogging.  I hope you continue to check back in the coming weeks to see what new posts I have in store.  You never know what new treasures you might find amongst all this blogging dust!

The Early Bird Gets the Padded Room

Photo by Frans Van Heerden on Pexels.com

 

Once upon a time, I used to be an early bird. I loved to get up before the sun. It gave me the opportunity to start the day unrushed and relaxed. I enjoyed watching the dawn with a steaming mug of tea in hand. And nothing compared to the refreshing experience of going out into the brand new day to exercise and commune with God out in the middle of His Creation. I eagerly awoke every morning for that healing, calming solitude. It was my little mini vacation each and every day from the normal crazed hustle and bustle of life.

As soon as I became a mother, though, my early bird days were over. Night classes, writing at night, and finishing my chores long after my little ones were sound asleep became the norm. At first, it was extremely difficult staying up late since I was so used to getting an early start each day. However, I soon realized that some of my greatest thinking and writing happen when the world is dark and silent . . . when everyone else is sound asleep and still. From that moment on, I was addicted to the night!

But, like they say, all good things must come to an end. And my membership in the night owl club must come to an abrupt end. My little girl is no longer doing school online. She will be starting 1st grade next week, and our days will have to start at 6:30 am from now on. Oh, the horror! Considering that I sometimes go to sleep at 4:30 am, you can imagine I’m not a happy camper!

Of course, I’m happy my little girl is so eager to go to school. Still, this change is going to be tough for me. If our trial days so far are any indicator, I’m going to need an endless supply of caffeine and happy pills . . . or better yet, a padded room where I can bounce and play until the insanity goes away.

I thought it would be difficult for my children. They are used to sleeping in until about 9 am every day. To my surprise, though, they are much, much more resilient than I. While I’m dragging my protesting body around, grumbling and complaining, my kids are doing circles around me, no caffeinated beverage required! Oh, if only they could bottle some of that stuff so I could add it to my morning tea. Then this early bird would get the worm again . . . or something like that.

 

© 2013 Amanda R. Dollak

Accidental Photos: A Branch at Night

The last accidental photo I shared was a prime example of the fun but mystifying photos tucked away in old rolls of film or dusty SD cards.  We accidentally come across them one day much to our surprise.  Often times we can identify the object or objects in the shot.  Sometimes, we can even pinpoint where the photo was taken.  However, we have little inkling about the when or the how or the why.

With this next accidental photo, though, I can answer every question.  What is it? This is a shot of a branch, obviously.  Where was it taken?  I remember vividly that this was in the backyard of my previous home.  When was it taken? That night I was enjoying a summer marshmallow roast with my kids.  How and why did this shot happen?  My son accidentally dropped my camera onto some melted marshmallow.  The lens cover got stuck partially closed, and I accidentally hit the button while attempting to clean the gooey goodness out of my camera.  Yum, what a delicious memory!

Do you have any accidental photographs that bring back wonderful memories?

Unrealistic Nightmares and Fears

This morning I was startled awake by a terrible nightmare.  It was so shocking and horrifying, I awakened with a jolt.  And there was no amount of coaxing that could convince my mind and body that all was fine and I should go right back to sleep.  I might as well have drank an entire pot of coffee.  Even an hour later, I’m still more awake than I’ve been in ages…even when I had caffeine surging through my veins!

Mulling over my nightmare for the last hour, though, has made me realize something.  Although my nightmare was vivid and disturbing, it actually wasn’t realistic.  Without going into gruesome details, what happened in my dream isn’t even possible in the real world.  Still, I can’t shake the uneasy feelings even this long afterwards.  The images are seared into my memory all the same.  It doesn’t matter whether or not such a scenario could happen in the real world because it DID happen in my mind.

That realization, of course, made me think even further.  If my dreams are that powerful, what about my thoughts and fears in the real world?  If my mind could allow such nonsense to drastically affect me while I was asleep, could it be allowing unrealistic thoughts and fears to interrupt my life as well?

After some honest and careful self-reflection, I have to admit that the impossible and the improbable impact my life far too often.  My inner worrywart thrives on this fodder and loves to throw it into the open every time I get too stressed.  Instead of focusing on the positives and the possibilities, I get blindsided by the negatives and the impossibilities.  And when I get into this frame of mind, clear thinking and problem solving are thrown on the wayside.  I’m left trudging through the muck and sinking deeper and deeper into ‘possible’ living nightmares that in all actuality will mostly likely not happen or could never be a reality.

Just imagine how far we all could go in life if these unrealistic, irrational fears never even existed.  We would be unstoppable and invincible.  We could finally live the lives we were always meant to live.  It’s a sobering thought, isn’t it?