Why I hate to cook – part 2.

I commented on another blogger’s post: http://triing2findacure.wordpress.com/2011/07/20/lifestyle-changes-what-are-your-wicked-ways/  about how much I hate cooking, and she asked me which parts I hated. I started just replying to her, but it was getting too long, so I came back here.

This post is going to be in the boring stuff category, so if you want funny stuff the answer is: http://wp.me/p1Cvgh-3f    I love writing and this blogging thing is great for recluses like me. I would rather write funny stuff, but I’m going to let you in on the other side a little… (as the violin plays softly in the background).

The more serious answer is both. I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis about 10 years ago when I was 20. Through the years I got a couple of additional diagnoses, raynauds syndrome, thyroid disorder, some weird eyelid thing, and I fell in May and broke my hip. It sounds like I am a hypocondriac, but I really am not. I waited about an hour after breaking my hip before I called my husband to let him know that I had fallen. (Not like that proves anything). I went to physical therapy yesterday because I finally got cleared to put weight on my leg, but the therapist won’t work with me because the spasticity in my leg is too bad. She is referring me to a new doctor for botox in my leg…wierd huh. I could write a whole post about that…

So, now I am 30, have 4 kids, must use either a wheelchair or walker and maybe once a week get to leave the house to go to Walmart (they have those motorized shopping carts or a doctors appointment. I have to make lists for groceries since I can’t go out much, but I hate the planning, prep, cooking and clean up. My kids and husband can and do help, but it is mainly my responsibility. I don’t even get hungry much (medication side effects) so I have to just pay attention to the time to remember to make lunch/dinner. Anyway, I don’t know how I got connected with you bloggers who love exercise, eat right, etc. because I am the complete opposite, but I guess maybe God is trying to tell me something. So, thanks for your tips and comments. If you are like me and don’t enjoy healthy things, I appreciate your comments too. Maybe even more…;)

Life as we make it.

People say that life is what you make of it, but I’m not so sure.

Of course there is an aspect to life that is able to be controlled, such as whether an abused child will grow up to abuse or cherish their own children. Or if someone who has been told that they stink at basketball will give up on it, or work harder and become legendary. Everyone knows someone who has made the best of what life has thrown at them…or someone who wallows in their own misery.

I guess the problem I have with that expression is that sometimes we are what life makes of us. The idea that someone who is born disfigured could have the same type of life as someone who is born beautiful doesn’t make sense to me. Yes, both could have productive happy lives, or either could commit suicide, but regardless, the circumstances of life’s events will affect them no matter how optimistic or pessimistic they are.

Part of the problem, especially here in America, is that we are control freaks. We want to believe that our veterans who have their legs blown off could choose to come back home and become motivational speakers if they wanted to. We don’t want to look at their disability as something that caused them to beg for change on the corner. Life is what you make of it, we tell ourselves. Rise above your circumstances. Make lemons into lemonade. Tell that to the woman who yearns to have a child, but is infertile. Tell that to the child who will never be able to run because of an abusive mother or father. Tell that to the starving people all over the world who have heard of a land where food is thrown away.

Life is what it makes of us. We can choose how respond to certain events, but I don’t think that pretending that you could rise above the heartbreak of losing a child is possible or even meant to be. Sometimes things happen that cause us to change. Is it a burn victim’s responsibility to have a great outlook on life and feel like she will be just as happy as she ever was, or is it our (life around her, people who see her) responsibility to show her that we see beyond her scars.

Hurting is okay. So is struggling under the weight of whatever load life has delivered. If you can’t see how to make life better, I pray that you will have others around you who let you grieve. Odds are, one day you will look back and see how the painful aspects of life helped to make you who you are, but until then, lets stop pretending that we and those around us are capable of becoming something we view as “better”. Lets stop ignoring our pain or others who are suffering. One of the most frustrating parts of being in a wheelchair is the difficulty people seem to have at looking at me or making eye contact. Things happen, people suffer. Just because we don’t like thinking about pain, doesn’t mean that we need to ignore it or rush to change it. Lets see people for who they are and help when we can, but realize that those motivational “pep talks” are sometimes the most harmful thing you can do when someone is hurting. Just love, and see, and cry with someone who is crying. Through that we can be a part of the life that “makes” others.

Do you ever wonder:

Why we can go to the moon but can’t fix potholes in the road?

Why chocolate cravings never seem to end (maybe that’s just me)?

Why kids don’t want to get in the bath and once in they don’t want to get out?

Why some people are dog people and others are cat people?

Why the cat people are more intelligent?

Why only one of a particular pair of socks always gets lost?

How kids with “nothing to do” can have a cluttered room?

Why people will drive by something that is labeled “free” in the front yard, but it gets stolen if a price gets put on it?

What the world would be like if everyone was honest?

Who invented waffles?

Why people work so hard and spend so much money to have thick green grass they will have to mow?

Hello world!

Welcome to my blog. Life is funny, but I’m often not (although I think I am).Living with a disability presents all sorts of great writing material, which is why I started this. Having multiple sclerosis has not stopped me from making some of the best birthday cakes ever (except my melting first-time-making-fondant lego castle cake).

Having MS also causes a lot of cognition problems, so if I misspell or write something that doesn’t make sense, please feel free to say “Oh that poor dear must be having a bad day.” Any other comments may be removed at my discretion. Hope you enjoy.

Favorite things

Hello everyone. I am up again tonight, and this time I am thinking of how the process of growing up changes many things, especially favorite things. When I was little, I loved to play like most kids do. Around teenage years, I enjoyed partying (not my most spiritual time). In college my favorite things to do were eat and sleep. As I sat here tonight, I realized that it is difficult to think of what my favorite things to do are now. I still enjoy playing with my kids sometimes, but the thoughts of cleaning the toys back up and what I “should” be doing, decrease the enjoyment dramatically. I don’t party anymore (unless you count my attempts at Discovery Toys parties, or the few other “demonstration” parties I manage to escape from life long enough to attend). As far as eating goes, it is more of a necessity than an enjoyment now. Eating most often involves cooking and cleaning which takes away from the whole dining experience, or it is a menu of chicken nuggets, macaroni, and green beans (nothing against those, but still not quite perfectly seasoned steak and beautifully prepared cheesecake).

This might sound a little discouraging, but wait, it gets worse. Just kidding!

Although the things I enjoy now might not be as simple or as easy to contemplate as those mentioned; I realize that I have more favorites now than I have ever had. I love hearing and seeing my kids imaginations at work. I love my husband’s gift of making me laugh and his willingness to listen as I talk him to sleep. I still love the majesty of a clear sky on a starry night, and the sound and smell of rain. As my relationship with God grows, I love His peace and the moments of insight and depth I experience through prayer and reading His Word. I love knowing that I have friends that know me and love me anyway (thank you all). I still love talking to my sisters and parents on the phone every few weeks or in person a few times a year. Most of all, I love the many blessings in my life that are new every day.

As you read this, I hope you all take the time to think about some of your favorite things. If you want, you can even sing about them like Maria in “The Sound of Music” – “Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, brown paper packages tied up with string, these are a few of my favorite things. Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes, snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes, silver white winters that melt into spring, these are a few of my favorite things. When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I’m feeling sad; I simply remember my favorite things, and then I don’t feel so bad…” *

*Reprinted without the permission of the “Sound of Music” executives. So please don’t tell. 🙂

Goodnight everyone.