What is Compassion?

It's about 11pm at night, I'm driving my dad home from the casino. If this doesn't scream father/daughter moment, I'm not sure what does.

My dad is possibly one of the most unique people I know. Doesn't matter what is going on in the world, I don't think my dad would care unless it was some event that effected one of us in the family. Some may call my dad an asshole because of his harsh demeanor but I would call him, Dad. He's technically my step-dad but technicalities aside, he's the greatest dad alive. Robby and me both got treated our whole life as though he was our biological father. People are typically surprised when they find out that Robby and me aren't Rick's full-blooded kids. My dad had so much love for me and my brothers that I would say he was a greatest example of compassion.

Well, back to our perfect father/daughter moment... we are on the way home, when we pass a billboard about giving to your fellow men. This billboard is lit up like a forth of July parade. There was no way of not noticing it. My dad makes mention to the brightness of the sign. I, of course, go all analytical when I see the sign and ask my dad about compassion. What did he think compassion was? Did he think it was something that every man had or was it more of a degree of putting up with people's shit? My dad laughed at me because only I would want to have a conversation of such depth this late at night and with him being a little tipsy. ;-)

Then my dad gave me an answer that was a little perplexing and confusing. He told me it was more of people's way of handling things that surprise their idea of normalities of poverty and distress. He then went into telling me a story that he heard just last year that still tugged at his heart strings.

Last year, a family of four were hit by a Genie that fell off the bed of an 18 wheeler because a driver wasn't safe with making sure his load was secure. The father in the car, was thrown out and his legs were crushed. This made it impossible for him to do anything for his family that was burning to death in their smashed up car.

As my dad tells me this story, my eyes fill up with tears. I try not to put myself in this man's shoes but I can't. I don't know how I would be able to deal with such loss but then my dad stops my tears with reality. This happens everywhere in the world. Maybe not with a Genie but people are killed daily from other people's hatred, laziness and/or bad judgement. My dad asks me why I feel the need to cry over this man's loss, when in fact this man's loss is the fact of life. At first, I'm a little shocked at my dad's harsh words but the more I think about them, I start to understand what my dad is saying about my compassion.

Compassion, depending on how you look at it.. biblically, webster dictionary-ly (realize that's not a word, but this is my blog ;-) and/or common sense-ly.... it's the idea of showing love through empathy and sympathetic ways toward another's hardship in life. My dad was telling me that even though I might consider myself a very compassionate person, he was challenging my true essence of where my compassion came from. Was I really feeling empathy for this man because I heard story for the first time? Would my empathy for this man change, if I heard this story all the time? What if his story was never told to me, would I still have compassion for him? Yes, I realize that I'm going a little deep with this but the question is this... the compassion we all have, is it true compassion like Jesus Christ had for us all when he died on the cross? Can a human being actually possess that true idea of compassion or is that why Jesus' story is something that we all celebrate because it was unman-like?

Are you a French Fry or a Diamond?

Way FM is one of my favorite radio stations. It's a station that plays alternative christian music. Now it's not for everyone and I realize this but the DJ Wally, has to be for everyone. The man is funny. Today while I'm listening and jammin' out to some 'I love Jesus' song, this commercial comes on that is suppose to make you think about your life and help you become a better person. Typically I find the little commercials really good and thought provoking; however, today's really missed the boat. I actually wanted to call Wally and ask him what were they thinking.

The commercial asked girls if they were a french fry or a diamond. That your true love wants a diamond and no french fry. Well, great... except that our society proves that McDonald's is making a killing on their fries and jewelry stores are closing down faster than we can comprehend. Another thing that got me laughing about this commercial was the whole idea of trying to compare 'slutty' actions to a french fry. Who does that? Where in this crazy world of comparing everything to each other and one another, did french fries become the slutty food for society? Why didn't they use dipped Strawberries or chocolate covered cherries, those seem a little more provocative to me? But hey, maybe I'm just mad because deep down I might have a little French Fry, myself. ;-)

Freaky Friday... Wait It's Only Tuesday?!?!?!

What a day. It's 430 in the morning and I'm up thinking about yesterday's freaky events. The events that have so many different emotions attach to them. Events that will change my future and have some effect on my life dramatically, which is crazy because it's only Tuesday. The third day in the week.

Let's start from the beginning.

I start the day with a meeting. It's funny that once you're in a position to change or make change with a little power, you always seem to use your 8 hours at work in meetings. Meetings that are 'training' you to be a better leader, which I find funny because how can you lead from inside an office learning how to lead. That to me seems like a crazy oxymoron philosophy.

After the meeting, I get told by my dear boss that I have to work a weekend day. It's up to me what works for my schedule but I have to give up one of my weekends till everything in the kitchen is up to par and I have enough good 'natural leaders' around me that the kitchen can run without me. Well, that's sucks. I had to debate the odds of giving up my Saturdays instead of my Sundays and after about 45 minutes, Sundays got the boot. I will now be working from Sunday till Thursday. Awesome (are you hearing the excitement?).

Well, this new schedule brought into light another issue. Softball. My new exercise program that had some influence on why I'm with the most amazing man ever. So deep down I believe I owe the sport some respect, right?!!?!?!? Plus the team needed girls; however, my sanity needed some stuff off my over filled plate of life. Softball got the boot but it was easy because for some reason my team had already replaced me. Slap in the face but hey, I guess when you bring a team together, get the sponsorship and have life happen (i.e. Mylah breaking her arms, work schedule and stress) ... the life happen part is the only thing people really seem to pay attention too without empathy or compassion. Sweet!!!!!

You would think this would be enough for one day of stress but it's not... not with dear Christina in charge of her day. The softball issue brought light to a icky situation from this weekend and possibly the destruction of a long friendship between me and a dear friend. It seems that with a little bit of the diarrhea of the mouth, I may have said something a little bit tactless and hurtful. I know this comes with no surprise to most anyone that knows me really; however, when I tried to fix this Saturday situation, it became apparent that my Saturday event may have been the event that broke the camel's back. I was informed in a very lengthy and matter-of-fact text about how horrible of a friend I truly was and needed to come to terms with those realities. That I think really hurt because no matter how I try to understand everything from the text that was trying to be hurtful towards me, showed emotions of the hurt I caused them ignorantly. It sucks that it may cause a huge change in my life and my daughter's. The worst part, that situation is out of my hands. I did everything to try to fix it, now I get to wait and see. Have I ever told you how much I hate waiting?

Well, it's only noon now and I have now been kicked off the softball team and in a way that it's suppose to look like it was my idea, destroyed a friendship and changed my schedule at work for the fourth time since I started my new job a week ago. ARGH. I get home to unwind and to tell you the truth, if drinking before noon was totally cool and we were in Germany, I would of had a shot or two but since drinking before 3pm makes you a lush... I found another way to unwind.

A bird.

A medium size, blackish-brown spotted funky looking bird with a beak that looked like it could do some damage, was in my bedroom. It had somehow gone through my screen window and made himself at home, all over my curtains. I had so much doo-doo all over my curtains, you would have thought this bird was Picasso and his ass was the paint brush. A little freaked and worried for my life but mostly worried that my curtains were running out of 'canvas' space and my bed would be the bird's next target for an art display. I took my bird catching skills in to action. Now my bird catching skills were more of me ducking close to the ground and protecting my face from this bird, which if you think about really isn't smart. Let me explain why, when you're walking into a room while covering your face and eyes, the only thing you have to go off is your sense of hearing. Well........ when you have a freaked out bird... the bird is moving around your bedroom like it's on crack and this in turn just freaks me out even more; however, the second I saw that bird land my precious bed. I went into SuperWoman stance and needed to protect my 500 thread count Egyptian Cotton sheets. The bird must of noticed a change in my demeanor because at this point, the stupid thing kept running into my upper window with full force. Even though the bottom of the windows were fully open.

I had a stupid bird on my hands!

I had to fake the bird out, which meant putting towels up to hide the upper parts of the window without the 'special' bird running into me full force. It was quite the event and honestly speaking, had someone video tapped it... I would have become a Youtube hit over night. After about 15 minutes of craziness and my mother in tears laughing, I got the bird out of my room and the stripping of bedroom began.

Now almost running late for Mylah's 1:15pm appointment to assess the 'TWO' broken arms, I panic and race out the door. Mylah's still laughing about the bird situation and bringing into light the comedy about the whole event. She told me I looked funny 'fighting' the bird. When we got to the appointment with a minute to spare, the doctor walked in with this 'You suck as a mother' face. Dr. Asshole, looked at me after the fourth time of Mylah and me telling him the story behind both incidents and informed me that he was calling CPS on me. Let's just say at this point, had my daughter not been 2 feet away from me, watching my every move... I think I would of mauled and skinned the guy right there. I was pissed, then scared, then back pissed again, which then became another 'Diarrhea of the Mouth' moment with Gerald's answering machine. The best part of the whole meeting with Dr. Asshole was him telling me that Mylah's arm wasn't really broken but there was some trauma to the elbow because there was fluid build up. Thanks Captain Obvious. It's great when you get a doctor that assumes you beat your child, even though the child shows no other signs of beating except a huge smile of happiness and a love for life but whatever!!!! I finally calmed myself down with the little help of a 'pick me up' talk with Chet to comprehend that "YES! I am a good mother" and this doctor just has to take precautions for the child's safety. The next child with two broken arms could be a child being abused.

So Tuesday... what a day... Mylah fell another two times that day and dumped a whole glass of pink lemonade down her arms. Just normal natural kids things because she still wants to skip, jump and run. Trying to convience Mylah that she has too be careful is like trying to seperate flies from shit. I swear, I'm going to need to bubble wrap that child to keep her safe. To make all the event a sealed package of a crazy-freaky-terribly-bad-day... I had to stalk and kill a spider. Seriously... I'm going to Staples today for that easy button they are suppose to have. All in All though, I'm excited to see what today has because like God tells us in the bible a million times... "It's a new day with a fresh start for Him to bless me!" So Dear God... Could you hold the Bull Shit today? Just asking. ;-)

True Leadership Lesson is Leadership

Here I am. A Whitworth graduate with all the answers and willingness to jump into any leadership role that is offered to me after school; however, a week into my new director job and I've come to realize that everything I learned in class was just the frosting on the cake of leadership. My education gave me the ability to tell you the differences between why two generations can't communicate, explain why management thinks a certain way and possibly discuss almost everything on a financial report, with the greatest of ease; however, I think that it really missed the human part of leadership. The idea that every employee has their own way of thinking and their own idea of what they think a leader can and can't do. This week has been my time to not only address my title role but to also express a need for change in an environment that hasn't had leadership for the last year. It's been interesting to say the least.

The challenges that come with being a leader go beyond your title. I've been reading a lot of leadership books to prepare for this position. I've recruited many different leaders for mentors to help guide me in this new chapter of my life. I've interviewed most of the employees and have listened to everyone’s feed-back to determine what needs to change and what needs to not be touched. I've found that no matter how prepared you are for any job, the human aspect is one that can't be addressed till you’re in the position and dealing with it firsthand. I have to say though; I have an amazing team that will not only blow the standards out of the water but are also willing to help and wanting me to lead them.

On my third day, I had an employee tell me that they were happy I was there. Everyone thinks that I will do well; however, I'm nervous because I now realize that I have so many people's trust in leading them into a successful future with this company. I now have these expectations of helping this team become an amazing group of productive individuals. I think it's scary to realize how much influence one can have when someone gives you a title of leadership. I don't want to take this title to heart because it's only a title. I want to lead these people and earn not only the title, but their respect in leading them. I think Jesus' reflection of being a 'gentleman leader' is the one that I want to take. I don't want to force anyone to follow me but pray that with guidance, a prayerful heart and a whole lot of patience, God will make me the leader that these people need me to be for them. When God does that, I won't need to force anyone because they will want to follow and be lead.

'Mommy, Why aren't you Scared?"

Fear, according to Wikipedia is nothing more than an idea of a perceived threat to ones' self. Fear is the body's way of alarming you of danger and to put you to alert stats mood.

Now most people's idea of what fear is could be different. I'm totally not okay with scary movies. I have yet seen a Jason, Jaws or Halloween movie. I get scared too much, that the last movie I saw with Jenn, Jane Austen's 'Jane Eyre'; I spent most of the time watching the inside of my eyeballs because the movie scared the crap out of me. The music, the dark colors and the character's just gave me the willies. Jenn, on the other hand being a totally lovely best friend/ sister, found my fear comical and maybe a little ridicules. Jenn still teases me about it.

Tonight though, Mylah had fear with the thunder storm. She cried, wouldn't leave my side and needed to be cuddled after every loud and fearful, thunderous sound. Being a mother of many talents, I have to say cuddling with my princess is my best one and I love it; however, when she's scared and crying. The cuddling doesn't really have the same effect of just loving my princess, it's more of a 'Poor Baby / Damn this thunder!' kind of cuddling job. Well, while I was comforting Mylah, she asks me, 'Mommy, why aren't you scared of things?'

At first I wanted to laugh but seeing that my daughter right now saw me as some Super Hero that could kick thunder's ass, I didn't want to enlighten her about how wrong she was. So instead here I am writing a blog about it.

Things that scare the shit out of me -

1) Spiders... don't really need to go into a huge spill about this because who isn't and if you say your not, you're lying to yourself!

2) The idea of not being the greatest mother ever to my duaghter. I don't want my princess to grow up wishing I spent more time with her or if the Good Lord has it, takes me too early to see her grow... I don't want to waste any time I have on stuff that can be done tomorrow like laundry, homework and needing to vaccuum for the 15th time. Personally, I think playing Barbies is way better too.

3) Getting into an accident in 'bad underware'. Now I think this is a fear that my mother instilled in me from a young girl. My mom always told me that when you don't prepare, that's when bad things happen. I.E. Having only those holey, electric-green granny panties, that you only bring out when you run out of panties because the washer broke, for when you get rushed into the hospital with SINGLE - Dr. McDreamy as your doc.

4) Wasting time. Now most of my friends will tell you that I'm probably the only person you can count on to be late to anything. I will most defiantly be late to my own wedding and possibly my own funeral; however, with that being said, the reason why I am always late is because I don't want to waste any time. This means that I will count down the minutes I have to get ready and start to debate the cute level needed for the event that I am attending. In doing this, I free up more time to do other things around my house or with Mylah. This in turn makes me late to everything because I never really follow through on the list of things I debated away already.

5) Leaving this world without making a difference. I volunteer for a lot of things. Sometimes I volunteer a little too much because I get a little confused on where I should be and who needs me most; however, the thing that makes those moments worth the headache is hearing my 5 year old ask about her next time helping with feeding the poor or packing toys for kids. Personally, when I'm in front of the 'Big Guy' and He's looking at my nice size rap sheet of shit I've done, I hope the good out weighs the bad. (SIDE NOTE - Yes, I do realize that you don't get into Heaven by good works but it's couldn't hurt trying ;-) Plus I think that we are all somehow connected to each other and need one another, so I want to help and show mercy and love to as many people as I can.

Now this list could go on and on, but I won't. I have fears and even though my little princess may think I'm this amazing Butt-Kicking Super Hero with amazing PB & J sandwich making skills, I still know that deep down... my biggest fear would be taking that idea away from her and letting her see me for nothing more than just the most luckest mother alive to have God bless me as her mother. I love that girl!!!!!

Mama's Hard Moments

"You cannot make yourself feel something you do not feel, but you can make yourself do right in spite of your feelings." Pearl S. Buck

Yesterday I encountered an incident with Mylah that just pulled at every heart string I have in my body. My little girl lied to me. I know this is normal behavior for children to tell some fibs - white lies. Hey, I was an amazing story teller growing up and my daughter has my imagination to tell 'interesting stories' but I typically call her on them and try to get her to distinguish between reality and her 'story telling'; however, yesterday Mylah didn't tell a tall tell.

She plain out lied. Straight faced and didn't flinch about it at all. I was perplexed and to be totally honest, I found it really hard to comprehend. My daughter, who has the ability to speak truth in some of the most awkward moments, looked me straight in the face and lied. It broke my heart and I didn't know what to do to punish her. I wanted to cry. She instantly knew that it was wrong and I did share with her my feelings about how bad it hurt to have her lie to me. I could tell that hurt her too, which wasn't what I wanted to do. I hate seeing my little princess cry. I hate having to punish her but I know that it's part of being a parent.

The parenting part that really sucks is knowing that if I don't punish her, she won't learn from this moment. So if I don't punish Mylah and let this one time go by like it was nothing. She will in turn think that lying is okay, which then means other things could be considered norms when in fact, they are not. Yesterday when I had her lick the bar of soap, and watched her face turn into a crazy array of different 'icky faces'. I couldn't help but wonder, was this enough. Did she learn or will I have to do this again? Sometimes I wish that God handed you a manual with each child.

Code of Conduct

Today I experienced the lovely and sometimes dreaded, yearly female exam. Now most women go through different levels of preparing for these exams. They talk themselves into it, prepare the area and decide what the best clothing choice would be exam approved. I for one, don't take my prep work lightly and typically this is an ordeal for me, which in turn means I hate it. Mostly I hate it because no one really likes to have another person in their junk that hasn't gone through the stages of courting; flowers, name exchange, drinks and depending on the issues, more drinks. You get the picture, Right?

Well, today's exam didn't exactly go the way I thought that it would. As my Nurse PA is down in the "exam position" and I'm in the "Hello, World" position, she starts to have a conversation with me about my last year's activity and concerns I could have with my "precious". A little taken back at the idea that "we" (really meaning HER) are really trying to "small talk" while I'm in a little vunerable position. She continues to small talk and a couple of informational tid-bits were exchanged. Then she stops in mid-exam with me still in the stir-ups and tells me, "Did you know you have a sensitive virgina?"

***Pause to reflect***

What? A sensitive virgina?

Now maybe I was being a little sensitive but I truly think there was maybe a more "comfortable" way of saying that and two, what the hell is a sensitive virgina? Can anyone tell me?

Then my "funny side" took over and I couldn't help but think about my experiences with "sensitive people" and laugh out loud because typically those types need cheerleaders in their life to do anything. So instantly I think, I will now have to pep-talk my "precious" into doing anything. I share my thoughts with my Nurse PA, she didn't find my views too amusing.

Really? I thought it was funny.

Yes, I'm Single!

"Why are YOU single?"

The question that seems to be surrounding my life lately more than, "How are you doing?"

A couple of days ago, Jenn informed me that her recent adventure named "Tristen aka Trent" asked why I was still single because I was smart, pretty and fun. It was hard to really come up with an answer because honestly I don't really know why myself. Actually to be totally truthful, I don't ever even think about it unless I watch some mushy chick-flick movie or see some romantic gesture between two people. Only in those moments do I feel as though I'm missing out on something spectacular; however, as I leave my home completely content with the idea that I have no plans or limitations holding me from going and doing what ever I want. I remember real quick that my life is an amazing adventure of exciting moments, I've made for myself with Mylah and the family/friends I have in my life. So I feel as though I concured this judgemental idea of a woman needing a man. Yay, Me!

Then today as I'm in Fred Meyers shopping for the second love of my life, shoes. The sales clerk assumes that I was trying on these amazing "fuck-me" pumps for a date. I laughed with this joyous freedom laugh, and informed her that her assumptions were way off. I was getting amazing "fuck-me" pumps for myself. Her face was priceless but that motherly "disappointing" look was a knife to my soul. Here she was looking at me and my daughter as though we were some refugees she needed to save. I instantly went from standing nearly 6 feet 2 inches in these heels, to feeling like I was only 2 feet tall.

As I left the store with my daughter totally unware of judgemental situation that had just unfolded in the store. I took Mylah by her hand and tried my hardest not to cry. For a quick second, I almost let this judgemental person distroy my spirit about myself. I questioned the life I was giving my daughter without a father figure in our home. I questioned my own selfishness of having her out of wed-lock. I questioned how good of a mother I was without a man?

However, the more I held my little girl's hand and she skipped next to me with the joy for life. God was real quick to remind me that it was His judgement I should care about. The most amazing moment was when I buckled Mylah into her careseat and she told me, "Mom your the bestest mother I ever had!"

Sometimes I think people need to realize how much their looks, words, and sometimes ignorant judgements can effect the people around them.

The best thing about today....

1) My daughter reminded me every moment today why I am a mother.

2) I'm single because that's what I want. I want to be mom who will soon be entering Gonzaga for her MBA and I did it without a boyfriend. So I must be doing something right!

I'm 15 minutes into my 60 minutes Elliptical workout at the gym. I've got my settings set for a 13 restraint level and about a 10 degree incline. So according to my sweat factor, I should be lossing at least 300 calories, if not more; however, when I looked at the lovely electronic panel that just barely hit 100 calories (loss). I freak out inside.

What?!?!?

This can not be right, the machine has to be busted; however, when I look at my neighbor's for a more accurate level of measurement. Her monitor averaged out to about 13 calories per minute, which was the same as mine. For every minute I spent on this Elliptical Pro-Form, I only lost 13 calories?!?!?!?!

ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?!?

You realize that in ten minutes, I can consume a juicy Whopper w/cheese, fires and a milk shake. That's close to 1300 calories in ten minutes. Revalation!!!! My math teachers were all wrong! Not every equation equals out. (A) does not equal (B) when it comes to the weight/calorie battle.

This to my surprise makes me wonder, how does one conpensate for the calories taken, if lossing them would be like trying to pick the winning numbers for the lotto? It feels completely impossible to win that battle against the bulge. Now this could also be the point where I decide two things, (1) that calories are from the devil and eating is more of a sport of dodgeballing calories to my Booty or (2) Realize that eating isn't bad, but eating a Whopper with all the fixings, is really not my friend.

On the same hand, I'm not a rabbit. So green salads and veggie only diets won't work for me either. I need to find a happy median between the evil calories and the ones that are willing to leave my Booty during a thirty minute workout. However, no matter what... I will never give up those amazing calories a good glass of wine and beer can bring to my ass because that my friend is a crime against my quality of life.