Yep may is very important to me. For two reasons. 1. its CF awareness month (break out the purple!) 2.its mental health awareness month. I'm going to focus this post on CF. I think mental health awareness is super important and I have talked about that before and will talk about that again BUT so many people don't even know what CF is!
CF is cystic fibrosis. A progressive, ultimately fatal genetic disorder that affects around 30,000 americans. To be born with cystic fibrosis both of your parents have to be the carriers of a recessive genetic mutation on their CFTR gene. This means they do NOT have CF but can pass this mutation on to their children. Everytime 2 people who are carriers of a mutated CF gene have a child that child has a 50% of also being a carrier, a 25% of having CF and a 25% of neither being a carrier or having CF. A little like playing the lottery. I know families who have no kids with it, some like mine who have 1, some who all the kids have it. There are literelly thousands of CFTR mutations...the deltaf508 is the most common especially in caucasions.
Okay so thats the technical stuff out the way. CF affects everyone differently. I showed signs very early but not severe enough to make any doctors say hey lets test for CF. It was brushed off as reflux, sinus problems, asthma, allergies, food allergies...you name it. Anything that was a "horse" and not a "zebra". I was a little peanut...even being overdue I was 6 pounds, 9 ounces and barely 19 inches long....always a little peanut..atleast until the steroids. I coughed ALOT...coughed until I puked. I puked a lot. I was constantly sick. My stomach was constantly causing problems. I wheezed a lot. My sinuses were bad...one doctor when I was 10 or so said I had the worst sinuses he had seen on a child. And surprise...the second time I was allergy tested (the first I was only like 2 and was literally allergic to everything) I was allergic to NOTHING (except like a very minor reaction to dust which we were later told was so minor it didn't even really count). Nothing to explain my symptoms. After nothing was helping and I was getting worse and worse and had been on high dose (60-80mg) steroids for months and was about living in the hospital and ER one doctor finally got the bright idea to test me for CF. Yep...positive. Genetics(which back then they could test for 75 or so mutations) showed 1DF508, my sweat test was over 100 (normal is under 40, a definite positive is over 60) (the sweat test was and still is the golden test for CF because there is no way to test for all posible mutations)
I was 16. I will never forget my first CF clinic visit to MUSC. BEing told we can't predict how long you will live..some people are really sick when they are kids and then hold steady for years....some are healthy and then go downhill fast when they get older....there are no guarantees. All it takes is one bad bacteria, one bad case of the flu, one bad pneumonia. At that time the median age of survival was 32....so being told this is the age that people are living to. You have a 50/50 shot of making it there. I was 16...thats middle aged! I know they were being realistic and wanted me to know what I was up against but its tough to hear at any age...let alone as a teenager. We were told good stuff too...about the progress that had been made etc but for some reason its the above that sticks with me
I just celebrated my 29th birthday last week. Its a day I sometimes thought I would never see. I know that sounds dramatic but its true. As I have aged my lungs have not only taken a hit but my heart has as well. At one point my resting heart rate was nearing 175. Life is real fun when your life revolves around pulmonologists and cardiologists and all that good stuff. Thankfully I once again proved the doctors wrong. Still though...I do about 2 hours of breathing treatments a day and 1hr of something called the vest a day..on a good day. I take Symbicort which is an inhaler. I take creon, digestive enzyme pills before I eat...anything . Prilosec because my stomach acid is way too acidic thanks to the CF and my stomach PH is off plus I have reflux. I take Cardizem to help my heart rate. I tire very easily....I always have...I can remember being 10, 11 years old and coming home from school and going to sleep because I was exhausted...I rarely make it through the day without a nap and its been like this as long as I can remember. I could keep going but I won't bore you :-)
I read a quote and I think it sums CF life up nicely... "a person with cystic fibrosis never merely lives but must be kept alive". It takes work to stay healthy, to stay alive.
I don't make myself out to be some kind of hero or anything like that...I'm a real person living with a real disease that sucks. I whine, I cry, I don't want to do my treatments etc. I've argued with my doctors because I did not want to go in the hospital and was willing to do anything except that. I've laid in my hospital bed and cried many steroid induced tears. I've walked many a lap around a hospital hallway. I've complained about how unfair life is, I've questioned God, I've been angry, I've been sad, I've been scared. I've been so so bored. I've felt so bad and been so sick I wished I could just go ahead and die so the physical pain would end. I'm very human...as all who struggle with various illnesses are. I'm far from perfect. But at the same time...I do appreciate things in a different way. Birthdays are a little more special...hence my "birthday week" celebrations. I try to savor each experience...realizing tomorrow is not a promise. I get excited over little things...even at 29 I guess I'm somewhat childlike in that regard. Holidays still excite me..be it Christmas or the 4th of july or valentines day. Family is special....I cherish every milestone I see my nephew make...every moment I'm there for.
I guess this ends volume 1....
Friday, May 2, 2014
Friday, April 11, 2014
A few pics
some pics. My little slice of paradise. Aren' you jealous? And my beautiful Abby (and me!)
Purpose
This is something I have been struggling with. Purpose. Purpose for my life. Purpose for things that have happened. Purpose. Growing up in a Christian home its a word I heard often. And I still believe God has a purpose for each of us...we're all here for a reason and a purpose and there are no mistakes. Saying it in theory is easier than applying it to myself however.
And then there is "everything happens for a reason"..."everything happens for a purpose". At one point I believed that....Or I thought I did. I'm not sure if I've ever really believed it. I think thats one part of Christianity I have always struggled with. My faith in that started faltering when I was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis at age 16 and told the average life expectancy was 32 and there was no guarantee what side I would fall on because CF is so unpredictable. As I have lost more and more friends to the monster my everything happens for a purpose belief has faltered more. And then the last 2 years happened and shook me to the core and any belief I had in things happening for a purpose or reason was gone.
I believe some things have no purpose . Sometimes for reasons beyond our control bad things happen. Or for reasons within our control bad things happen. Maybe we caused them, maybe we didn't. Maybe someone else did, maybe not. They serve no greater good. Nothing good comes from them. They suck, they are hard and we claw our way through them. We make it the best that we can. We either fight with everything we have or we give up. We're either fighters or quitters. Just because He can make all things work together for good doesn't mean that all things are good or have purpose.
The one thing I struggle with is the cystic fibrosis. If I believe God created me and cystic fibrosis is genetic...I have two genetic mutations that cause it...then do I believe God created me with CF? Is it part of his purpose? I refuse to believe a painful, serious and ultimately deadly disease is part of His great plan for me. I refuse to believe depression is part of His plan. Sometimes crap happens. Sometimes God lets it for reasons we don't understand. He's not up there playing puppet master.
As for life purposes. That is tough too. We're not all Billy Grahams, Einsteins, beethovens etc. Some of us are average. We're plain everyday somewhat smarter than the average bear, okay looking, had one year of piano lessons and are somewhat artistic people. Nothing "special". Not the next world changer. Not the next great anything. Thats me...average. While I do believe average people can do extraordinary things I think sometimes we focus so much on purpose being something huge and important and world changing that we forget that it doesn't have to be. Taking care of family , raising kids, rescuing animals, doing anything that helps others, sharing your story (I like to think maybe 1 person will be helped through my blog and my story), working with kids at church or wherever, helping the enviroment (little things like cutting those plastic soda ring things up and not littering)....those things help change the world. Finding your talent...be it writing, photography, film making, etc. Purpose can cover a lot of ground and it may not be one certain huge thing. Maybe its being a certain kind of person and making an impact on others. Maybe its that book you write when your 50. Maybe its a documentary you make. Maybe its that child you raise. Maybe it has to do with someone you haven't even met yet. Maybe its thsoe memories people are left with....those lives you touch. I believe every person we meet....we leave an impression...some sort of impact...whether we know it...heck sometimes whether they know it.
I have no clue what purpose is. It sucks being average. I wish I was a prodigy or a genious etc. I wish God would talk to me and tell me what it is. Maybe I won't know here on earth. I do know I have a purpose...and its not finished yet. I know I would be dead otherwise with all the oppertunities God has had to take me. But He's left me here so He's not done. Sometimes I wish He were!
And then there is "everything happens for a reason"..."everything happens for a purpose". At one point I believed that....Or I thought I did. I'm not sure if I've ever really believed it. I think thats one part of Christianity I have always struggled with. My faith in that started faltering when I was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis at age 16 and told the average life expectancy was 32 and there was no guarantee what side I would fall on because CF is so unpredictable. As I have lost more and more friends to the monster my everything happens for a purpose belief has faltered more. And then the last 2 years happened and shook me to the core and any belief I had in things happening for a purpose or reason was gone.
I believe some things have no purpose . Sometimes for reasons beyond our control bad things happen. Or for reasons within our control bad things happen. Maybe we caused them, maybe we didn't. Maybe someone else did, maybe not. They serve no greater good. Nothing good comes from them. They suck, they are hard and we claw our way through them. We make it the best that we can. We either fight with everything we have or we give up. We're either fighters or quitters. Just because He can make all things work together for good doesn't mean that all things are good or have purpose.
The one thing I struggle with is the cystic fibrosis. If I believe God created me and cystic fibrosis is genetic...I have two genetic mutations that cause it...then do I believe God created me with CF? Is it part of his purpose? I refuse to believe a painful, serious and ultimately deadly disease is part of His great plan for me. I refuse to believe depression is part of His plan. Sometimes crap happens. Sometimes God lets it for reasons we don't understand. He's not up there playing puppet master.
As for life purposes. That is tough too. We're not all Billy Grahams, Einsteins, beethovens etc. Some of us are average. We're plain everyday somewhat smarter than the average bear, okay looking, had one year of piano lessons and are somewhat artistic people. Nothing "special". Not the next world changer. Not the next great anything. Thats me...average. While I do believe average people can do extraordinary things I think sometimes we focus so much on purpose being something huge and important and world changing that we forget that it doesn't have to be. Taking care of family , raising kids, rescuing animals, doing anything that helps others, sharing your story (I like to think maybe 1 person will be helped through my blog and my story), working with kids at church or wherever, helping the enviroment (little things like cutting those plastic soda ring things up and not littering)....those things help change the world. Finding your talent...be it writing, photography, film making, etc. Purpose can cover a lot of ground and it may not be one certain huge thing. Maybe its being a certain kind of person and making an impact on others. Maybe its that book you write when your 50. Maybe its a documentary you make. Maybe its that child you raise. Maybe it has to do with someone you haven't even met yet. Maybe its thsoe memories people are left with....those lives you touch. I believe every person we meet....we leave an impression...some sort of impact...whether we know it...heck sometimes whether they know it.
I have no clue what purpose is. It sucks being average. I wish I was a prodigy or a genious etc. I wish God would talk to me and tell me what it is. Maybe I won't know here on earth. I do know I have a purpose...and its not finished yet. I know I would be dead otherwise with all the oppertunities God has had to take me. But He's left me here so He's not done. Sometimes I wish He were!
The Butterfly (from 2008)
I actually wrote this what seems like a lifetime ago...back in 2008. I found it today stored in an old email account (don't ask!). It was on my blog like 3 blogs ago. I have to admit I cried reading it. I didn't write it to my future self, I had no admire how applicable it would be at this point in my life but it really hits home:
Anyone remember the movie a Bugs Life? Someday I will be a beyootiful butterfly.
Really though butterflies start out as an ugly caterpillar that everyone wants to squash, that people are afraid of. Looking at one you would never imagine what this ugly creature could become. The one day it forms a chrysalis. After a period of time a beautiful butterfly comes out. The interesting things are that the butterfly has to break out of the chrysalis by itself. Any help from well meaning humans would be detrimental and even deadly. After breaking out of the chrysalis the wings of the butterfly are wet and have to dry out before the butterfly takes flight for the first time.
Maybe it’s just me but I see a lot of my life in the butterfly. Sometimes I feel like the ugly caterpillar. But then I think of God. God can make all things beautiful. But sometimes the process of becoming beautiful isn't easy. Sometimes it takes long periods of solitude with just God, sometimes it involves having to go through some tough stuff and being the only one who can push through it...no one can do it for us and if they could it would be detrimental. And sometimes we try to fly before our wings are ready. Our wings are wet and not ready for flight but being the impatient people we are we try to fly anyway and take a crash landing. If we would wait for God's timing, for our wings to dry then we could soar. And boy oh boy the day we take flight as the beautiful creature God intended for us to be. And like the fact that every caterpillar turns into a butterfly we can all turn into butterflies. God gives us all opportunities to turn into one. Sometimes it takes a lot of pain, a lot of suffering, a lot of hard work and a few crash landings
So I keep telling myself that one day I will be a beyootiful butterfly
Anyone remember the movie a Bugs Life? Someday I will be a beyootiful butterfly.
Really though butterflies start out as an ugly caterpillar that everyone wants to squash, that people are afraid of. Looking at one you would never imagine what this ugly creature could become. The one day it forms a chrysalis. After a period of time a beautiful butterfly comes out. The interesting things are that the butterfly has to break out of the chrysalis by itself. Any help from well meaning humans would be detrimental and even deadly. After breaking out of the chrysalis the wings of the butterfly are wet and have to dry out before the butterfly takes flight for the first time.
Maybe it’s just me but I see a lot of my life in the butterfly. Sometimes I feel like the ugly caterpillar. But then I think of God. God can make all things beautiful. But sometimes the process of becoming beautiful isn't easy. Sometimes it takes long periods of solitude with just God, sometimes it involves having to go through some tough stuff and being the only one who can push through it...no one can do it for us and if they could it would be detrimental. And sometimes we try to fly before our wings are ready. Our wings are wet and not ready for flight but being the impatient people we are we try to fly anyway and take a crash landing. If we would wait for God's timing, for our wings to dry then we could soar. And boy oh boy the day we take flight as the beautiful creature God intended for us to be. And like the fact that every caterpillar turns into a butterfly we can all turn into butterflies. God gives us all opportunities to turn into one. Sometimes it takes a lot of pain, a lot of suffering, a lot of hard work and a few crash landings
So I keep telling myself that one day I will be a beyootiful butterfly
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Mental Illness stigma....I'm going on a rant
Hold on...this could get long. Its no secret that my life has been filled with struggles with mental illness. I'm not shy about it. I've had 4 psychiatric hospitalizations in 2 years. I've taken meds and been in therapy(well therapy on and off) since I was 17. I've got many diagnoses...more than I really care to share. I've attempted suicide. My arms bear the scars of years of self harm. Why do I share this? Not because I want attention or people to see me as strong or anything. I want to put a face to mental illness. I want people to see hey people who struggle with mental illness aren't scary. Statistically we are more likely to hurt ourselves or to be victims of a crime than to hurt anyone else!
It ticks me off anytime anything bad happens...be it a mass shooting, a mother killing her kids, a serial killer, a serial rapist etc...that people start shouting that the person behind it must be mentally ill. I see it happen on the news all the time. The first thing that happens when someone commits a crime is their mental health is called into question. I'm sorry but some people are just plain evil, are bad, are crazy (very different from mentally ill which is truly a sickness just like cancer), maybe even just born a bad seed.
I don't want people to be scared of me or anyone else with mental illnesses. Heck I catch ladybugs and put them outside, pick up starfish and put them back in the ocean, rescue cats, won't eat lobster or crab because of the cruelty involved in their deaths etc. Hardly someone who would even ever think of doing something horrible to another person (or any living creature!)
The only person I have ever been interested in harming or killing is myself. Thats it. I have never thought about, fantasized about, dreamed about or wanted to harm or kill someone else. I'm not a scary person. I'm not a strange person. I'm not a monster.
If you asked me to define myself...being mentally ill would not even make it into the mix. Being an animal lover with an unusual connection to animals, being creative, loving to write, loving to make others laugh, being a 100% carolina girl who loves the water, loving bright colors, rollerblading, swimming, being active with the cystic fibrosis foundation,loving to read, my intelligence, being a self taught computer whiz, having awesome hair, being an aunt...those are all things that would. And the further I get in recovery....the less it defines me. But as long as I live I will fight the stigma. I will do everything I can to make sure that myself and others like aren't stereotyped, stigmatized and feared. I am a person...not an illness.
Some of the funniest..most creative...sweetest...most caring people..smartest people I know struggle with mental illness. Some of the most brilliant and most creative people in history have struggled with mental illness
Its nothing to be ashamed of. And I wish more people could talk openly about their struggles. I bet it would help a lot of people not feel so alone and would encourage others to seek help. It would also help to put more faces to mental illness and help people see that we're just normal people...we're not so scary
It ticks me off anytime anything bad happens...be it a mass shooting, a mother killing her kids, a serial killer, a serial rapist etc...that people start shouting that the person behind it must be mentally ill. I see it happen on the news all the time. The first thing that happens when someone commits a crime is their mental health is called into question. I'm sorry but some people are just plain evil, are bad, are crazy (very different from mentally ill which is truly a sickness just like cancer), maybe even just born a bad seed.
I don't want people to be scared of me or anyone else with mental illnesses. Heck I catch ladybugs and put them outside, pick up starfish and put them back in the ocean, rescue cats, won't eat lobster or crab because of the cruelty involved in their deaths etc. Hardly someone who would even ever think of doing something horrible to another person (or any living creature!)
The only person I have ever been interested in harming or killing is myself. Thats it. I have never thought about, fantasized about, dreamed about or wanted to harm or kill someone else. I'm not a scary person. I'm not a strange person. I'm not a monster.
If you asked me to define myself...being mentally ill would not even make it into the mix. Being an animal lover with an unusual connection to animals, being creative, loving to write, loving to make others laugh, being a 100% carolina girl who loves the water, loving bright colors, rollerblading, swimming, being active with the cystic fibrosis foundation,loving to read, my intelligence, being a self taught computer whiz, having awesome hair, being an aunt...those are all things that would. And the further I get in recovery....the less it defines me. But as long as I live I will fight the stigma. I will do everything I can to make sure that myself and others like aren't stereotyped, stigmatized and feared. I am a person...not an illness.
Some of the funniest..most creative...sweetest...most caring people..smartest people I know struggle with mental illness. Some of the most brilliant and most creative people in history have struggled with mental illness
Its nothing to be ashamed of. And I wish more people could talk openly about their struggles. I bet it would help a lot of people not feel so alone and would encourage others to seek help. It would also help to put more faces to mental illness and help people see that we're just normal people...we're not so scary
Thursday, March 13, 2014
A time for everything
Its been another week where the bittersweet part of life has really shined through.
We got to spend the weekend with Mikey (and my brother and sister in law). I've never been a baby person...before mikey I'd never had much experience. But really the little guy won my heart the first time I met him. They got here friday and my mom was holding him and he was trying to dive out her arms and into mine! I even let the kid drool on phone and sang soft kitty 1,000 times. He's crawling now and at the point where you can really play with him and not just sit and rock him. It seems like just yesterday we were getting ready for his baby shower!
Mikey of course is the sweetest part of life right now. A reminder that life goes on...a reminder of new life, the excitement over every first. We've cheered as he's smiled, laughed, rolled over, sat up and now crawling. Mikey is hope...He is joy. Everything that babies and children are. You can't help but smile and laugh when you're around them
On the other end of that we celebrated my pop's 83rd birthday yesterday. While I am thrilled he is 83 and still here....it hurts to see him declining. It hurts to hear talks of wheelchairs and ramps and such. My grandparents have always been my rock. I've always been especially close to them. I've always avoided thinking about life without them. But as they age and as I see my granddad's health decline...I don't have much choice but to think about it a little. I mean it may be years but still.
I know the Bible says a "a time to be born and time to die"....and I have no problem with death. But I'm a lot more okay with MY death. I don't fear my death. The process of dying scares but not death. But I am scared of losing the ones I love and living without them. I also hate seeing them in pain. You know its funny....unlike most kids....I never had a fear of death...I never was afraid of it. Of the dying process yes...I want to go peacefully and not in a hospital...but death no. I've always been scared of losing the people I love. Thats what sucks about loving people....you end up losing them one way or another. I do believe death is not a final goodbye...just a see ya later. I have no concrete proof of these things...no scientific evidence but I believe them with all my heart based on my life experience. I fully believe some things just cannot be explained by science or otherwise during this lifetime. Maybe that makes me crazy..I don't think so. I don't call myself a hardcore Christian..or even a conservative one....but this isn't about religion so anyway
I know I've said a lot of this in other posts....but its just been on my mind a lot lately. I guess the fact I'm not getting any younger doesn't help any either. I can't believe I will be 29 next month! I think I will quit counting when I hit 30. Of course maybe when I hit 30 people will stop thinking I look 14 or 15.....its pretty sad when you still get carded to buy a game rated TEEN!!! Not even mature...TEEN!!! <rant over>
I'm happy about my birthday and somewhat sad...the years are going by way too fast. And I'm not where I wanted to be at this age. Nowhere near it. I know life is a journey and I am much happier with where I am this year and where I'm headed vs last year but still I'm sad when I look back at would could have been. I know I shouldn't look at the shoulda/coulda/wouldas...but don't we all? I know 29 is still young but then I wonder...do I really have a long life ahead of me? I know what a beast CF can be...I know there are no promises as to how it will progress...heck 3 years ago I was told I probably was going to need home oxygen and my heart was wearing out. My heart and lungs are going just as good as ever...amazing for someone who couldn't walk across a room without gasping for air! But still I know how fast things can change. I don't know...so much I want to do but yet I feel like I still have work to do before I can and and am still a ways away from being able to do it
We got to spend the weekend with Mikey (and my brother and sister in law). I've never been a baby person...before mikey I'd never had much experience. But really the little guy won my heart the first time I met him. They got here friday and my mom was holding him and he was trying to dive out her arms and into mine! I even let the kid drool on phone and sang soft kitty 1,000 times. He's crawling now and at the point where you can really play with him and not just sit and rock him. It seems like just yesterday we were getting ready for his baby shower!
Mikey of course is the sweetest part of life right now. A reminder that life goes on...a reminder of new life, the excitement over every first. We've cheered as he's smiled, laughed, rolled over, sat up and now crawling. Mikey is hope...He is joy. Everything that babies and children are. You can't help but smile and laugh when you're around them
On the other end of that we celebrated my pop's 83rd birthday yesterday. While I am thrilled he is 83 and still here....it hurts to see him declining. It hurts to hear talks of wheelchairs and ramps and such. My grandparents have always been my rock. I've always been especially close to them. I've always avoided thinking about life without them. But as they age and as I see my granddad's health decline...I don't have much choice but to think about it a little. I mean it may be years but still.
I know the Bible says a "a time to be born and time to die"....and I have no problem with death. But I'm a lot more okay with MY death. I don't fear my death. The process of dying scares but not death. But I am scared of losing the ones I love and living without them. I also hate seeing them in pain. You know its funny....unlike most kids....I never had a fear of death...I never was afraid of it. Of the dying process yes...I want to go peacefully and not in a hospital...but death no. I've always been scared of losing the people I love. Thats what sucks about loving people....you end up losing them one way or another. I do believe death is not a final goodbye...just a see ya later. I have no concrete proof of these things...no scientific evidence but I believe them with all my heart based on my life experience. I fully believe some things just cannot be explained by science or otherwise during this lifetime. Maybe that makes me crazy..I don't think so. I don't call myself a hardcore Christian..or even a conservative one....but this isn't about religion so anyway
I know I've said a lot of this in other posts....but its just been on my mind a lot lately. I guess the fact I'm not getting any younger doesn't help any either. I can't believe I will be 29 next month! I think I will quit counting when I hit 30. Of course maybe when I hit 30 people will stop thinking I look 14 or 15.....its pretty sad when you still get carded to buy a game rated TEEN!!! Not even mature...TEEN!!! <rant over>
I'm happy about my birthday and somewhat sad...the years are going by way too fast. And I'm not where I wanted to be at this age. Nowhere near it. I know life is a journey and I am much happier with where I am this year and where I'm headed vs last year but still I'm sad when I look back at would could have been. I know I shouldn't look at the shoulda/coulda/wouldas...but don't we all? I know 29 is still young but then I wonder...do I really have a long life ahead of me? I know what a beast CF can be...I know there are no promises as to how it will progress...heck 3 years ago I was told I probably was going to need home oxygen and my heart was wearing out. My heart and lungs are going just as good as ever...amazing for someone who couldn't walk across a room without gasping for air! But still I know how fast things can change. I don't know...so much I want to do but yet I feel like I still have work to do before I can and and am still a ways away from being able to do it
Friday, March 7, 2014
flashback fridays
I guess it wouldn't surprise anyone that I was a weird child lol. I was a nice mix of barbie/pink/dress wearing and teenage mutant ninja turtle/camo wearing/wrestling/video game playing. That might be the effect of growing up with an older brother. I was never much for baby dolls...my cat slept in the doll crib and I pushed her around in the doll stroller. My favorite thing ever was my elaborate toy horse stable set up. I was a horse lover. I started riding when I was in kindergarten and I had toy horses, toy stable, collected grand champions (remember those?), watched horse movies. I was horse crazy. Infact my favorite move EVER growing up was wild hearts cant be broken..an obscure live action disney movie about....yes horses.
I also loved reading. I learned to read at 4 and haven't stopped since. My first book was where the wild things are. I loved arts and crafts..still do. And writing...still do. I have journals and diaries from when I was 7/8 years old. Funny to go back and read
My favorite days where summer days when we would go to the library and I would come home and curl up in my beanbag chair and not come out of my room until supper. Then I would take a bath and curl back up in my beanbag and do the same until I fell asleep. My mom would come and make me get in the bed. Such simple days. Noone used to believe me how fast I would read...still don't. Yes I can polish off a normal size novel in 2 hours. As you can guess I was hard to ground because my ideal weekend was being in my room alone with nothing but my books!
I drove my parents crazy because my three favorite pairs of shoes growing up (at different times) were my pink converse, my cowboy boots and my hiking boots. My hiking boots really drove them crazy because I insisted on wearing them with my frilly church dresses. I won't ever forget this really fancy christmas dress....huge standout shiny skirt, velvet top, big bow etc....guess what shoes I wore with it? Yep hiking boots. It was a sad day they fell apart
I was a video game nerd....We had an atari before I was out of diapers. I cut my teeth so to speak on pac man and qbert. My real addiction came though when I was 6 and we got our NES and I met Mario. And then not long after I got my gameboy. I can still play through the original marios and tell you where all the secrets are! Heck I still am a video game nerd...I have a DSi, Wii, PC, Android phone, and tablet. 3DS is next on my list. We got our first computer when I was 8 and that brought with it where in the world is carman sandiego....I never did find carman BTW. And later on Sim City and the Sims.
And last but not least. My love for animals start young. From the time I can remember when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up I would say veterinarian. I know thats not likely so I have adjusted it to vet tech at some point down the road. We got our first dog when I was 6 months old. A golden named Buddy. We have pics of Buddy laying beside my playpen while I played. When I was 3 we got our 2nd golden princess. Not long after that my cat fever began. I wanted a kitty so bad. I begged and I begged and I begged. Not long after my 5th birthday my great aunt showed up at our house with a maine coon kitten who I named muffin. Muffin was my sidekick for 17 years (and died inmy arms)! Over the years I have rescued numerous stray cats. Then Rosie the chihuahua came along after princess died in 98.Pumpkin my angel kitty in 2003. Dusty in 2004. Ellie in 2007. Abby in 2012 after we lost Ellie. May I add Rosie is still alive and kicking lol. I can't imagine life without my babies...they make me smile on my darkest days and I consider them an important part of my therapy. Ellie was an unimaginable loss...one I thought I would never get over but then Abby came into my life and won my heart.
So theres my ramblings. My first flashback friday. Next Friday's topic is the TV Show Today's Special
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