My 2015 Favorites

As the year ends, and I can honestly say it has been an odd one, I am reminded to focus on the positive.  So, here are 15 of my favorite things:

1. Dr Bronner's Peppermint Soap

I have very dry skin, and it itches a lot.  This line of soaps are, by far, the best I have ever used.  I love the way it makes my skin feel so clean, and it doesn't leave me feeling dry or itchy.  

2. OGX Teatree Mint Shampoo/Conditioner

Okay, I realize this is technically two products, but they go together.  I have always loved thin mint cookies from the Girl Scouts, and when I use these I am transported to childhood.  They also don't give me an itchy scalp, which is also a super good thing.

3. Aveda Beautifying Composition

This is the best combination oil, as it can be used on hair and on body/face.  I just love the way it can be mixed with other essential oils to create an even stronger elixir for wellness.

4. doTERRA Frankincense Essential Oil

This oil has completely changed how I clean wounds.  I no longer use peroxide, due to the fact that as it bubbles it kills healthy skin cells as well as the bacteria.  In case you are curious the article is: HERE.  Frankincense is my goto for zits, or scrapes, or ingrown hairs.  It is amazing.

5. Waterpik flosser

I actually wrote about this amazing tool earlier this year: First 40 @ 40 I still love this flosser and cannot imagine returning to the regular flossing of my past.

6. Tinkle Hair Remover

I know what you are thinking...pee.  But this little razor has completely changed the way I remove hair from my face.  And I am a klutz, so if I can get it to work than it must be amazing.

7. Nose Piercing

On my 40th Birthday I got my nose pierced.  It was a bit like getting poked by a large needle...oh, wait...it was exactly that.  But I still love the way it looks.  And I have been able to replace the jewelry and that is super fun.

8. Nordictrack Elliptical 

I am so glad to have been given the elliptical from my parents.  It has helped me exercise, despite the issues with my left knee and back.

9. Burt's Bees Pink Grapefruit Face Wipes

I am not a girl who can handle a multi-step facial cleansing routine.  I love being able to quickly wipe the day away.  I just love the way these smell, and they don't burn my skin nor leave it dry.  They have also replaced witch hazel, which is a much stronger astringent.

10. Hi*ball Energy Drinks

I love water...okay, I tolerate water.  But having an organic, flavored water is really awesome.  Plus it gives me energy and does make me jittery.  It is a bit pricey, but completely awesome for during and after using the elliptical.

11. The Girl on the Train

I read quite a few books this year.  However, this one has stuck with me.  A quick read, and I even suggested Jim would enjoy it (he did).

12. The Staves

I very rarely hear new music and think - yes, that is for me.  I know that comes with age.  However, I was pleasantly surprised how much I enjoyed listening to many of the songs from The Staves.  They are my favorite music find this year.

13. Miley Cyrus

I suppose we all have a guilty pleasure, and I know this counts as mine.  However, ever since I saw her performance on Saturday Night Live, I have been a fan of Miley's music.  She might make strange choices in her life, but no one can deny her amazing voice, execution and interpretation of music.

14. Jessica Jones

I am NOT a super hero person.  And even though I had a huge crush on Superman as a kid, movies and TV shows about superheroes is not my thing.  However, I was so thrilled at how well the Netflix series of Jessica Jones was produced, acted, and directed.  I was left wanting more, and that happens rarely in a series.  I'm sure the fact David Tennant was the Purple Man had a lot to do with my love for the show.

15. The Man in the High Castle

Jim and I binge watched quite a few shows this season on Netflix: Master of None, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, Grace & Frankie, An Honorable Woman, Dr. Who, and Portlandia just to name a few.  However, combine alternate history with a creepy theme song and I'm hooked.  It seemed some didn't think the characters were well developed, but I don't think that is what made the show so addicting. It was the discovery of the "man" (no spoilers) who we realize controlled the players, like puppets in his twisted reality.  Puppets are not developed.  And the scenery alone is worth the watch.

Well, that is a list of my top 15 favorite things of 2015.  What are yours?

This Ain't No Frank the Fish Finds a Friend

When I was in third grade, I finished my daily school work like I was in the Olympics. This allowed for time to draw and create artwork for my grandparents, who picked me up for lunch everyday. My teacher realized this time could be used a bit more effective, so she suggested writing a story for the Young Author's Conference. I would be creating a picture book and attending a special field trip?  Count me in!

At some point my friend, Dana, decided we should write a book together. We could BOTH go on the field trip. It was initially a pretty great idea. I made the illustrations, and Dana wrote the words on the pages. We would discuss the story and artwork and then each take care of that part of the story. So we were creating the story together. The name we decided on was Frank the Fish Finds a Friend. I loved alliteration, so the title basically wrote itself. As the name suggests, a fish named Frank is lonely while swimming in the big ocean. He dreams of having a friend to spend time with, and finally finds a girl fish. At this point, Dana and I had completed a lot of the book.  However, our teacher came to us and gave us the grave news: only one could write the story and take it to the conference. The other "author" had to have a separate work. She had made a mistake when reading the conference rules. I was so upset; I cried. Dana made a proclamation that since she "wrote" the story and I only "drew" the pictures, it was her book. At first I was devastated, but I had an idea: I would write a better story. And I already knew I drew better, so it HAD to be an overall better story.

What happened next was inevitable: a whole lot of unhealthy competition. I wish I could say it was healthy, but it was fueled by anger and jealousy on my part. I am pretty certain Dana was also acting on anger and hurt as well. I chose a new story idea: Puddems Adventures. A story about a mouse who finds another mouse and goes on adventures. Sound familiar? Yeah, because it was. It was my version of Frank the Fish. Each day we compared what we wrote at home the night before. When we compared, we would incorporate the different ideas. My mice got married, Dana's fish got married. Dana wrote tongue in cheek locations for her fish to explore, I also wrote tongue in cheek locations for my mice to explore: Mount Cheesemore, Cheesy Honeymoon Suite, etc. I became completely obsessed with creating this book. I didn't want the story to end and eventually asked my family for ideas on places Puddems could adventure. Finally I had to end the story, because it was supposed to only be a specific amount of pages. So I had Puddems get pregnant, have twins (a boy and a girl), and live happily ever after. I also ended with a statement that another Puddems Adventures would be coming soon. Ah, the simple naivety of an eight year old.

I'd like to say that after the initial competition, Dana and I were even better friends. Alas, unfortunately this became known as the Frank the Fish situation. We did eventually heal our friendship, and used this argument as a learning experience. If we were arguing in the future, we would always say that we didn't want it to become a Frank the Fish situation. That stupid confusion on our teacher's part tore our friendship as quickly as, well, as a page from a book. So, you can see my complete bewilderment earlier this month when Dana told me she needed to have three months apart from me and our friendship. I believed this was not a Frank the Fish situation. Apparently I was wrong, and it seems just as serious if not worse. I have been scolded and told to simply sit idle until she's ready to talk. However, this isn't third grade, and this isn't Frank the Fish Finds a Friend. We are 40.

I still have the Puddems Adventures book, and have fond memories writing it. Maybe not having expectations of friendship would have been better on my part. However, I am not sure if I can forget what this latest situation uncovered. But, like a good picture book, I will continue to move forward by turning pages and opening myself to new adventures.

Stay tuned - a new Michelle adventure is coming soon!

Number Twelve - 40 @ 40

For the better part of three months, I have been reluctant to blog.  Why?  Because the one person I thought would always be my friend, has decided to eliminate herself from my life.  People grow apart, and people change.  However, it is almost inconceivable what happened on our trip to Wales. At first I was concerned for her feelings, but as the time has gone by it has come very clear that it doesn't matter what I feel. The following is an email response I sent to Dana after she waited five weeks to respond to multiple texts, emails, and Facebook messages.  It pretty much summarizes my frustrations after reading a few sentence Facebook message.  Her response was short, strangely worded and quite accusatory.  Please note, for privacy reasons, I have left out full names.


Wales Trip
I have been anticipating hearing from you, concerned that our conversation at the hotel would be our last.  You spoke as if our friendship was over, which left me completely confused and hurt.  It was as if we were breaking up, and I was on the clueless side.  I realize that it was hard to relax when O was messing around on the bed the entire time we were trying to have a conversation over tea, but I knew as long as I was there he wouldn’t go to sleep.  I chose to leave and let you both get to sleep because you had a long journey ahead.  I have reached out to you numerous times, and wish you hadn’t distanced yourself because I have spent these last weeks wondering what I (and/or my family) did wrong.

When we initially made plans to travel to Wales as a family, we were to spend a few days with you and your family as a larger European vacation.  However, as time got closer and our financial situation became evident, it seemed that less destinations on our schedule would be better for the girls (especially Zoe) and for our pocketbook.  I also felt that P’s declining health meant time together was more important than visiting different countries.  It was about that time you suggested getting a place to stay together. I suppose it was naive on my part to not take a larger role in the planning.  I didn’t realize how far away Bluestone was from Cardiff and your home.  I thought you chose to have us all stay at another location because you felt your home wasn’t accommodating enough for the entire visit.  Therefore, I had anticipated doing day trips to castles, rather than being a part of a vacation resort and the activities there.  Like I said, I was naive.  Maybe it was also that you sent those colorful brochures with my birthday present - so many wonderful places to visit.

When you told me that we didn’t need to concern ourselves with financial obligations once we got to Wales, I was taken aback but didn’t want to offend your generosity.  You were so kind to open your home to my family, and you wanted us to simply relax.  Relaxation is something with which I am not accustomed, but was willing to give a try.  Unfortunately after the first day I felt anxious due to what I later perceived as your stress about getting everyone safely to Bluestone.  You seemed to be so worried that we were comfortable, and I don’t think you ever relaxed.  I thought P was to take Jim to a pub while we were staying at your home, but that never happened.  Thus a heart-to-heart with you was impossible with the men there.  However, how ungrateful would we have been to mention this during our visit.  After all, you did not just open your home but were financing all activities.

I felt that everything - every activity and every meal - was already planned.  I did not feel we were given choices, nor did I feel there were other choices in many cases.  Again, I did not want to seem ungrateful.  I knew how much you wanted to show us a good time there.  However, it felt as if we were visitors on your family vacation in Bluestone.  The pizza and cucumber lunch I bought and prepared with Jim was the first time I felt like I had made a decision on the entire trip.  And I felt we had offended you and your heart when I left you and O to deal with Eva and Jim to deal with Zoe.

I know you wanted to connect on a deeper level during our spa visit.  I just wanted to be with you.  You asked about what was next.  I answered with school starting and my new job.  Not far into the future like I feel you expected.  I don’t think far into the future anymore, because so many facets of my life have changed in the last 10 years.  I am not in the place I had projected many years ago, but I am happier now than I imagine if life was how I had originally planned.  Having children has changed how I look at life, and I no longer wish to plan for the future when the future is not promised.  The present is, and I was doing my best to enjoy the present with you.

What was really peculiar was how you seemed to walk on eggshells with P.  You catered to his every whim, even before he had one.  Even our spa visit felt rushed because you told him we’d be back at a certain time and we were 10 minutes late.  The arguing, talking, or whatever was happening our first night in Bluestone definitely made Jim and I feel uncomfortable.  We already felt like we were infringing on your vacation, but once that happened we really felt uncomfortable.  Then P wasn’t even there to say goodbye.  It was as if he was angry with us.  But, again, it didn’t feel like our vacation the entire visit.

I also feel sorry for Jim.  The flights and hotel were all planned by him and paid for by his job, not mine.  He only wanted a few experiences while there.  He wasn’t included in a spa option, which we would have paid for, but never given the opportunity.  Nor did he get the traditional English breakfast he had hoped.  The one at Bluestone was like getting breakfast at Denny’s.  I already mentioned the pub trip that was nonexistent.  He went along with the activities, as I did, not wanting to seem ungrateful.  Fish and chips is a famous cuisine, but I think he had hoped to see unique food options.  However, he never once complained.  Never.  He made every attempt at making it the best trip for our family, and especially for you and I.

Yes, I was very down about the deaths of two friends, one of which was a very close friend.  When Shelly took her life, my world was shattered in a million pieces.  I am still dealing with putting the pieces back in some sense of normalcy.  My depression isn’t something I can control all the time, nor is my anxiety.  Sure I am on medication, but I admit that I was homesick while in Bluestone.  I was confused by your behavior and how I perceived the time we spent together.  One minute we were laughing hysterically about driving the golf cart, and the next you seemed to be withdrawn.  However, I did my best to not let that influence my behavior.  I guess I didn’t do as good of a job as I thought.

I am so sorry that you were not able to talk to me up until now.  For I, too, want to be honest and candid with my words.  I do not regret seeing you, but I do wish our time together wasn’t so strained.  Maybe it was a case of having expectations that were never met for either of us.  I do know I love you and appreciate everything you and Phil did for my family while we were there.  I hope we can continue to talk openly and honestly with each other.

Please know my heart and prayers are with you as your Grandma ends her journey here.  I knew something was wrong, because you posted a picture of O and her the other day.  I’m so sorry, but I know she loves you.  Her age does not mean her passing is any easier.  Quite the contrary.  Having someone there your entire life and then no longer is hard to fathom.

All my love,
Michelle

Numbers Ten and Eleven - 40 @ 40

New Journeys
One of the most humbling things has happened this summer to me - getting hit upside the head by the proverbial hand regarding my Earthly calling.  I have been a struggling writer for many years now. Desperately applying for writing gigs, pretending each rejection is a step forward in the journey.  All the while having a friend beg for my help with his business, and another friend struggling with her non-profit.  Two perfect fits for me. Yet my ego continued to struggle through the thick bracken with a butter knife. So maybe rather than tying to push through a path not intended, I need to embrace the ones clearly laid for me.

iSACRA Board Member
I have very few lifelong friends.  In fact, besides my very best friend, Dana, who has been on my life journey for almost 40 years, I only have one other that has been at my side half as long.  Jahna and I met in freshman year in high school. She was sunshine in a mostly mundane day. For high school wasn't nearly as bad as elementary school had been for me, but school was never the best place for me in general. It was mostly a necessary evil. Anyway, I spent the entire time of high school knowing Jahna used a wheelchair, but I never defined her as the "wheelchair" girl. I even had the pleasure and honor of helping her get her diploma, due to the grass in which she had to wheel across. She and I continued years of friendship, through her many journeys and my own. However, a couple years ago Jahna and a group of other dedicated individuals set up a non-profit called iSACRA. It is an organization that focuses on providing information and support for those with Sacral Agenesis and/or Caudal Regression Syndrome. Jahna happens to have both. They were in need of a board member, and even though she never said I was the perfect person for the board, I knew I was.  One night I said, I want to do this.  I think she was shocked, but in all honesty it is a GREAT fit for me and my skills and gifts. If you are curious exactly what the non-profit is all about take a look - iSACRA

Dearborn School of Music
Two years ago, on the way back from Target, Evie begged me to stop at Dearborn School of Music so she could get violin lessons. We entered, with both girls barefoot...or maybe it was just Zoe. But I signed Evie up and had a great conversation with Dave, the owner. I was so excited to finally be inside the studio that all my students were talking about (well their parents). Parents were asking if I was upset regarding the new studio in town, but I never considered it a competition. I had teaching burnout, and I began sending all new students to Dearborn School of Music. I talked them up, and even invited families to come see the concerts. The studio has needed a piano teacher for a very long time, and finally Dave wore me down. And I'm super excited to start this journey after Labor Day. If you would like to check them out, goto: Dearborn School of Music (new website launches September 1st).

Realizing the Reality
I cannot pretend that I didn't write successful curricula, nor can I stop blogging, writing short stories and writing music. So it's not that I'm going to STOP writing, but just feed what is begging to grow. I shall focus on the areas that need me and my heart, and share that journey with you, my readers. Cheers!

Number Nine - 40 @ 40

Dealing with Death
Little did I know when I wrote my last blog post that I would be at a dear friend's wake on Friday. However, that is exactly what happened.  And even though this blog series is intended to be positive firsts, I believe I was able to find just that.

Shelly and I met through my piano lessons flier she found at Ford Credit.  At the time, she was not my only adult student.  However, she was my last lesson on Saturday afternoons and many times she would stay and visit afterwards.  Soon after taking lessons, she met Doug, and was immediately smitten. Jim and I had such fun going to see Doug's band and my relationship with Shelly became more of a friendship than a teacher/student one.

One of the highlights of our friendship was when Shelly asked if I would sing/play at her wedding. The morning of her wedding I found out we were expecting our second daughter, Eva. I was so sick at the wedding, but I know the music I performed was loved and appreciated. I couldn't drink at the reception, and we had to leave early because Zoe was not enjoying being put to bed by her grandparents. However, the love Shelly and Doug had for each other was reflected to beautifully on that day.

More recently Shelly and I hung out with my girls.  We most always went to Olga's for lunch and then came back to our home to watch crazy Sesame Street videos on YouTube. We had a blast listening to the different skits from our childhood, and our favorite by far was the Pinball Song.

Saying goodbye was very difficult, but it did lead to a first - recording a YouTube video of myself. I have uploaded videos of my girls playing instruments, or other family things. However, I never felt comfortable to record one of myself. I follow quite a few YouTubers who seem to be so confident when recording their videos. And I have no problem performing in public, what was so scary about YouTube? Most likely it was because I put myself out there for criticism. I hate people who are so rude and overtly unkind online. But I did it. Here are the finished results:

Number Eight - 40 @ 40

Accepting My Self

When I was diagnosed with general anxiety disorder almost 8 years ago, I had already struggled for many years with panic attacks and depression.  However, when Zoe began suffering from asthma, I started getting anxious when I was doing normal every day activities, especially if I was trying to relax. I tried to put logic to my emotional state, but logic was not going to help me in this situation. I even put off getting medicine and help, because I saw it as a weakness, one that I needed to fix myself. I am self reliant.  I was raised to do things on my own, and to not ask for help.  So admitting I could not do this alone was a huge step for me.  However, I was embarrassed that I needed medicine to keep myself afloat.  I mean, what did I expect would happen with both sides of my family having either anxieties, depression or both?

It was really remarkable how much my behavior changed, for the positive, after only a few days.  I felt like a person, rather than a shell of one with outbursts and chest pains.  I couldn't believe how long I put off feeling better, and I did feel better.  Of course after a month my meds were increased, and I once again felt like a failure.  Albeit, not as much of a failure as the initial diagnosis.

However, I have recently fallen into another bout of depression these last few weeks.  I thought it was illogical, but after deep thought this weekend I can pretty much state that the depression became obvious since a neighbor passed away suddenly.  She was the mother of a little girl my two Ladybugs played with almost on a daily basis.  And I was shocked, saddened and confused.  We were not close. I spoke to her on the phone often, checking in on her daughter and asking if I could watch her longer. I didn't go to the funeral, because I physically could not convince myself to go.  It was a crazy feeling.  A feeling of being paralyzed by fear.

My brain never truly stops thinking.  I over analyze EVERYTHING, to a fault.  Logically I can state that I just had a physical, including my first mammogram, and I'm healthy - physically.  I still need blood pressure meds, but that is genetic anyway, so I guess that's going to have to stay. I'm down 40 pounds since Christmas, and I am exercising almost everyday and eating healthier than I have in a long time. But shit happens, and that is where I cannot control my thoughts and feelings.

Unless one reads my blog posts, I have a good feeling they would not know of my illnesses. There...I wrote it.  I HAVE MENTAL ILLNESSES.  People probably would have no clue. I don't have anything that physically looks abnormal. Yes, I have gained weight from the depression during Ray's illness and passing, but I'm not grossly obese or morbidly disfigured (i.e. third breast, extra leg, etc.). I have always put on a good front. Played a part - the part I'm supposed to be. Because I quickly learned in elementary school that my authentic self was not good enough. I was not good enough for people to be my friend. So I became really good at pretending. So good, in fact, I believed it for a long LONG time.

I was born a giver, and one who could feel and relieve someone of their pain and hurt. I find great joy, but also great exhaustion from this gift.  I can successfully let conversation occur without revealing my pain and hurt and emotions.  I find myself living in a protective shell, and helping others with their problems as not to deal with my own.  I have known my friend, Jahna, for 24 years now. She admits to just recently realizing I suffer from these illnesses.  Can you believe it!?  24 freaking years I have been able to love her, and give to her, and be there for her.

But this year I'm done - this year I am 40 and I'm not going to feel sorry if I can't bring myself to attend family events, or have to cancel plans because I cannot bring myself to leave the house. I may not ever be able to eliminate my body from the meds I take for depression and anxiety, but that okay. This is me - take it or leave it.

My name is Michelle, and I have depression and anxiety.

Number Seven - 40 @ 40

Getting The Boobies Smooshed
I originally did not think I would post about my first mammogram, but because my experience was so positive I feel it essential for others to read this.

Was it pain free?  Well, no - obviously not.  They are smashing your breasts between two hard, flat surfaces.  And the underarm fat/boob stuff is also part of the body that is smashed.  However, 30 seconds of pressure (twice on each side) is nothing compared to dying.  I realize that is a dramatic statement, but it is true.  It's kind of like being told if you get a shot you could avoid a disease that would hurt you and potentially kill you.  You would get the shot, even if you were deathly afraid of shots.

Now I realize that getting a mammogram isn't preventing cancer, it is simply finding if you have questionable breast cell tissue.  But once a year for a few moments of pain is much better than the unknown and even better than finding out you could have prevented years of pain.  Honestly, my fear of the unknown was quickly subsided once I got in the room.

I went to a really lovely office: Oakwood Breast Care Center.  If you live in the Dearborn area, I highly suggest having your mammogram done there.  I have had ultrasounds at the building and I had knee surgery here as well.  I also used to see a doctor for peeing myself at the same building.  It is a very lovely office space and the staff are all very kind.  Besides taking off your shirt and putting on a kimono-like wrap shit, the most amusing part is the little stickers that get put on your nipples.  They are put there for the radiologist to tell the location of the middle of your breast.  WARNING: unless you have been desensitized by years of breast feeding, the stickers pull your skin when coming off.  I assume it would hurt quite bad if I wasn't already carrying numb nipples.

I was gone for approximately an hour, which includes drive time, registration (I got a lovely hospital bracelet) and procedure itself.  I honestly did not encounter any problems, and would chose a mammogram over quite a few procedures, for instance: flu shot, having a tooth pulled, hemorrhoids, and having cramps. If you are over 40 and have never had a mammogram because you are afraid, or if your doctor has never sent you for one - BE PROACTIVE!

Number Six - 40 @ 40

Embracing My Myopic Condition

When I was 8 years old and in 3rd grade I got glasses.  It wasn't like I was the only kid with glasses, and most of my family wore glasses, but I still had no desire to wear them.  It was like giving the bullies yet another thing to use as material.  But I couldn't see the stupid blackboard, and honestly I couldn't pretend any longer.  I cared too much about my grades.

Wearing glasses when I was young was pretty much a death sentence.  Of course for those who never lived during the 70s and 80s, you would never know what I was talking about.  You have seen cool geeks and other trendsetters wear glasses.  But there are those of us who had to wear glasses that will never forget the shear ugliness.  In case you were not a child in the 70s or 80s, or if you have conveniently forgot, here are some pictures:

By 7th grade, and after a lot of persuasion and pleading, I got a pair of contacts.  Of course, they were some crazy gas permeable lenses that had to be cleaned once a week using a container that rotated them around and a little pill that would fizz and make the water appear Alka-Seltzer-like.  But it didn't matter how much effort was involved, for I refused to wear glasses EVER again in public.

Contacts became a part of my routine - and honestly I really had no problems with them.  Over the years I went from hard gas-permeable to soft to disposable.  The older I got the more expense contacts became, and being a mom made contacts a bit more annoying.  For instance, that mid-afternoon nap.  I would wake and my eyes were all cloudy and dry.  And what if I fell asleep with one of the girls, again the dry, cloudy eyes.  However, the last straw was when I couldn't see my food in front of me nor could I read while wearing contacts.  An eye doctor visit proved that I have a slight case of "old age" or in medical terms: presbyopia.  I would need bifocals, but I had the choice this year to not get them yet.

I chose to get glasses and contacts as usual.  I sincerely don't know why I got the contacts, because they were a lot of cash and the visit is always $50 more, which is NOT covered by insurance.  Quite stupid actually, but the reality of life.  I chalk it up to habit, and my vanity.  However, I took the plunge, and wore the glasses out in public.  I have been wearing glasses every day since.  I have also noticed that my old age vision is getting worse, not a ton, but enough.  I currently take my glasses off to read and many times to eat.

I could get surgery on each eye, I know that.  However, glasses don't have the stigma they once did.  I have students who wear glasses without prescription lenses even, and they do this for fashion reasons!  My Evie has a pair of Hello Kitty glasses that she wears for fun as well.  Glasses seem to be cool now, so why bother to wear contacts anymore?  Really there is no reason.

So at 40 I have accepted that glasses are a reality, and that is okay.  Maybe it is because I don't care, but maybe it is because I am more concerned about actually seeing and not how others see me.

Number Five - 40 @ 40

This is My Box

So there was this box filled with artwork and crafts from the first 7 years of my education.  My mom had saved memories and then stored them in the attic with a myriad of other "stuff".  The box sat in my dinning room/homeschool room for over a month.  Each day I would walk passed it more times than I can count, and each day I told myself I will get to it.  I really cannot express the anxiety I felt when I looked at it.  It was potentially filled with memories where I didn't want to emotionally travel. I am not suggesting that the box would have letters from bullies, and diary entries that described heartache.  However, I was convinced the box would require if not one, two, bottles of wine.

On Mother's Day I found myself curious as to the contents of my box.  Maybe there would be sweet drawings from a little girl to her Mommy.  So I pulled the box into our living room (bad mistake because some blue paint came off artwork and stained the carpet) and began to remove items one at a time.

To my surprise, I really enjoyed looking back at the artwork I had made.  The only things in the box I recognized were a couple reports I did in 6th grade - Francisco Coronado and Louis Leaky.  I worked very hard on both, and never forgot all the effort spent at the library getting information (which I was a wiz at because I aced the library card catalog unit) and making copies on the copy machine (which I learned how to use because I was the lunch helper in the school office).  I realized that in the midst of the hell experienced by my piers, I did learn valuable life skills I still use today (that is except the card catalog, which lets be honest, we didn't see the Internet coming, did we?).

Here are a few of the items I found in my box:

One of the more amusing elements of having the box in my dining room was that each time I passed it I sang "This is my box, This is my box..." from Amahl and the Night Visitors.  This little gem was introduced to me in 12th Grade Music Humanities (oh how I wish they never eliminated the program at my high school).  I remember it so well that the Ladybugs and I watched it on YouTube before Christmas.

(start at 2:37 if you want to hear just the box song)

Number Four - 40 @ 40

If you want to view all posts, goto: 40 @ 40

I do not like birds.  I don't mind looking at birds, or having one perch on my arm.  But dive bombing, like in Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds, is so not my cup of tea.

Maybe it is just the whole flying and landing on me and pecking at me.  Not completely sure what exactly is the bottom line.  However, going into a room where birds are flying at me is not something I ever EVER wanted to do. 

Last summer at the Renaissance Festival, Evie wanted to go into a parakeet house with a stick of bird food.  Thankfully she didn't need to be in there with an adult, because I told her I would NOT be coming inside with her.  However, this past weekend the Ladybugs and I were at Kalahari.  For those who don't know what that is, Kalahari is a water/theme park.  One of the attractions was an outdoor Safari.  If getting up close and personal wasn't enough, we could pay to feed the animals.  One of the animal attractions was hundreds and hundreds of parakeets in a caged area.  They called this getting up close and personal with the parakeets.  However, unlike the parakeet attraction at the Renaissance Festival the adult HAD to accompany the child under 12.  Cue sweat glands and heart palpitations. My mother flat out refused.  So it was my opportunity to face this irrational fear of mine.

There were two doors between the main area and the caged parakeets.  Evie and I got in the first caged area. Then as I was gingerly opening the second door, some of the parakeets escaped and I barely got in. Evie is still between the two doors at this point, and my mom and Zoe were in the main area. I was now stuck in this main are with hundreds and hundreds of hungry parakeets. Here is a very unflattering picture of what I looked like:

Zoe got the zookeeper and he helped us with the parakeets.  Evie came in with me and it seemed that I took control of the situation. She was thrilled.  And I...I was soaking wet in sweat, but quite proud that I was able to successfully face this fear.

Number Three - 40 @ 40

If you want to view all posts in this series goto: 40 @ 40

I have been teaching private piano lessons for over 22 years and voice almost as long.  I have been looking for something to do in a related field, but different all together as well.  In walked OnGuard Essential Oil.

Okay, the bottle itself didn't walk in by itself, my sister, Kelly, introduced it to me one day in January.  She had me put the oil on my wrist, just a couple drops.  For the rest of the day I felt better. Maybe it was psychosomatic, but the aromatic blend seemed to be perfect for my emotional being. I told her to get me a jar for myself. I quickly began using the oil in boiling water on the stove top, as a spray, and then on my face.  Yes, my face.

I have had such issues the last couple of years with acne.  I know that my eating habits contributed to problem skin, but I also knew that as I have aged my skin care needs are different.  I saw a dermatologist about 8 years ago, but the chemicals he told me to put on my skin were not sun or children friendly.  I couldn't put my skin next to the skin of my babies, and THAT was not cool.  Sure the pimples went away, but it wasn't permanent.  I suppose I wasn't looking for a miracle, but something more natural was what I was hoping for.

Last summer I tried coconut oil, extra virgin and organic.  I read how it could improve my skin.  At first, it did.  I was so excited.  Then my skin was worse than before.  It was a mess.  I decided to return to a basic routine that did not include expensive soaps or creams: Witch Hazel Blog  I still use coconut oil for cooking, and I use it on my body as well.  It is wonderful if you mix sugar with it for a pre-shaving sugar scrub.

So at this point I was using just witch hazel.  Nothing else.  My skin started to heal somewhat, but I needed to use some kind of additional help. I had dry patches where the skin was healing.  I used lavender oil, and that was very soothing.  I used tea tree oil, which was good at killing the bacteria that was covering my face.  However, when I started using OnGuard, something miraculous happened.  I thought if I can get rid of this crap on my face I will sell the product(s).  At the same time, I was given an oil composition from Aveda - Beautifying Composition.  I use the OnGuard after the "wash" with witch hazel.  Then I put the Beautifying oil all over my face.

I don't plan on selling Aveda, but I do believe their products are high quality.  The above has the following ingredients:
organic soybean oil
organic olive oil
organic safflower oil
organic lavender (calming and relaxing)
rosemary  (muscle aches and pains)
bergamot (calming)
However, could I sell this OnGuard stuff?

Back when my sister gave me the wrist drops of OnGuard, we talked about how we have never heard of doTERRA before, and there should be home parties like Tupperware or PartyLite.  OMG!  I used to be obsessed with PartyLite.  I love candles, but now I have a friend who makes soy candles that don't bother my allergies and such.  How different 15 years make.  My search for a local doTERRA person ended with me realizing no one in the Dearborn area sell it.  So I decided, why don't I sell it?!

In my 40 years, I have been asked to become a consultant with Tupperware Parties, PartyLite, Jamberry, ThirtyOne, Jafra, Pampered Chef, Quixstar,Avon, Lia Sophia, Purse Party,Scentsy,Tastefully Simple, and Mary Kay.  I think because I have a really honest and fun personality when I go to these parties.  I have never sold anything before.  That is unless you count children's overpriced clothing at Crowley's for three months in high school, food at the Eagle Tavern in Greenfield Village and myself as a teacher. Which I guess says something about how I believe the quality of oils doTERRA.  It is not that I don't think essential oils from another company is not good, but there is a lot to be said for quality of oils.

So if you are at all interested in finding out more information (I'm still learning, but I can help) or buying more product please visit my doTERRA site: MichelleMartin40

Number Two - 40 @ 40

Piercings Before 40

When I was a little girl, I pretty much begged to get my ears pierced daily.  My mom was quite protective, and finally (after wearing her down) she took me to get my ears pierced when I was 8. I remember getting them, even though that was 30 years ago.  I remember that there was only one girl working that day, and they like to do both ears at once.  So, I'm sure you can image how straight (not) the woman was able to pierce.  Regardless, I remember being so proud of myself.  I remember getting the second hole piercing in 7th grade. I had been bugging my mom, but my dad took me instead. He said that all the girls at his school had the second hole. My mom wasn't pleased, but I got the holes anyway.  Years later I got a third hole in each ear and a fourth in the left.  When Jim and I first started dating I also got my left ear cartilage pierced. It really didn't hurt much at all.

Even though I liked the many holes, by about 25 I started taking the fourth and then third earrings out. I felt that the many holes were not business like. I laugh at this thought now.  So for many years now I had five earring holes in which I wear simple studs and sometimes a hanging one in the bottom holes.  

First Body Piercing

I wanted to get my eyebrow pierced for quite sometime.  I thought it would be edgy and different. However, a friend of mine told me not to bother because the hairs never grow back if you want to remove the piercing. However, for the last six years I wanted to get my nose pierced. I would have got the piercing earlier, but Jim seemed put off by it. I didn't want him to be grossed out with my appearance. But the closer 40 came, the more I realized that I desperately wanted to get one and didn't really care if it wasn't Jim's cup of tea. I'm not suggesting I don't care what he thinks of me, but I figure it has been 14 years and he hasn't left yet. A nose piercing wasn't going to change my looks in my opinion, so I told him that I wanted to get it done on my birthday.

So, I did.  It was quite an experience. The thing is, it was unlike any of my other piercings. I was relaxed, and pretty much not nervous. After all, I've had two vaginal births without pain meds, and 7 ear piercings. However, it was like what I imagine getting shot feels like. Of course, after the initial "pop" and my eye watering afterwards, there was zero pain or side effects. I did feel nauseous for about 20 minutes, but it was more an adrenaline high.  

I am very pleased at how well it has healed. Of course, I clean it a couple times a day and I take very good care of my skin so it isn't going to get forgotten. I still forget it is there sometimes, but pretty much I am pleased with it.

I posted a recent selfie on Saturday, and clearly the piercing was there. However, not one person said anything. Only 2 out of 20 students mentioned it, and I never mentioned it on social media. I wanted to just have it be part of me, not a big production. If you missed the selfie - here it is:

  

Number One - 40 @ 40

Flossing Before 40

Hi.  I'm Michelle and I HATE flossing.

This is no joke.  Every 6 months I goto the dentist to be told I need to floss more, and the sad part is I might floss a hand full of times between visits.  And usually this is due to the fact I have a piece of meat or popcorn stuck between teeth.  So actually I am not flossing my entire mouth, but just the problem spot. One would think that I simply need to buckle down and just floss.  However, I find the whole process gross and overall unproductive.  My teeth do not like string in them, and I have a visceral issue with the feeling of rubbing the string back and forth.  Many of my teeth do not lend themselves to traditional flossing because they are close together and I have dental work as well. Jim likes the flossers like these:

And I have tried to use them. I really have. But I break the string 99% of the time. I have super strong teeth I guess, or maybe I am incapable of learning the proper flossing technique. Point is: I hate flossing and it's not because I haven't tried to like it. But then we started seeing a new dentist and the hygienist feels the same way about flossing as I. We were kindred spirits. She told me as I age I have to be more cognizant of my oral health, but she had another idea.

The Water Flosser 

(angels sing in the background)

I have so much fun using this machine.  My teeth feel clean all the time, like they do after a professional cleaning. I kid you not.  And it takes almost no time to go through your entire mouth. Rather than feeling uncomfortable while flossing, the water actually massages my gums and makes for a pleasant overall experience.  A plus side to this machine is that my teeth are visibly whiter.  

So I have started a new habit at 40 - flossing my teeth.  I'm also having fun doing it!

40 @ 40

A couple short weeks ago, I turned 40.  Just typing this completely shakes me to the core.  When I was younger, much younger, I wanted to be older.  I was 12 and three quarters, almost 18, almost 21, almost 23...Many women seem to be upset to turn 30.  I know some who are forever 29.  However, four days before my 30th birthday I became a mother for the first time.  Thirty came and went and I didn't feel old.  Maybe I was tired, due to the lack of sleep.  But the truth is I felt empowered and thus my thirties were defined by motherhood.

However, this number 40 is an ugly reminder that I am aging.  I will no longer have a first home, first new car, first pregnancy, first trip to Europe.  No, now I can look forward to my first mammogram, my first pair of bifocals (which I should have had already), my first pair of gel shoe inserts...

So I decided that this year I will create a small bucket list of firsts that are welcomed.  I have decided to call this project:

I do hope this list is not only a way for me to stay focused on the positive, but maybe I'll also inspire others to do the same.

Hearing "You're Fat" By a Loved One

What Constitutes Bullying?

For over a month I have been mulling over this question.  As many of my readers know, I was bullied as a child and young adult.  And two years ago, I experienced adult bullying as well as the bullying of my oldest daughter, Zoe.  So I suppose you can say I'm not inexperienced when it comes to bullying.

However, what if a family member feels it necessary to address an issue?  What if that issue is weight, or your decision to homeschool, or your choice in spouse, or your decision to adopt, or your decision to move?  Is there a right way to present the concern?  I believe there most certainly is.  But what if my beliefs on this matter are a direct result of my past?  What if I'm just too damn sensitive?  This has been weighing on me (no pun intended) for over six weeks.

Thirty Years Removed

This year I turn 40.  This seems so big to me.  I cannot tell you why exactly, but it is a case of what I thought I would experience by 40.  I don't necessarily feel that my choice to have babies and put my family first in my 30's was a bad choice, but I'm definitely in a different place than I imagined.  Different bad?  Nah, just different.  The little girl of yesterday is still inside of me, but I have grown and accepted my past for what it is worth: the past. However, I have not forgotten the laughter and judgmental comments spewed across the classroom; especially at recess and Girl Scouts.  I have forgiven those children involved, but I wonder if those bullying memories have made me less accepting and more sensitive to bullying behaviors now.  

I think it is difficult to be objective when it comes to emotional scaring.  It is also so difficult to prove.  What if my experiences are simply my perspective on what was happening.  What if I am using the word "bullying" when in fact that isn't at all what is happening.  I have challenged friends before regarding the way bullying it taught in schools today.  The word "bully" is now in the vernacular of children, and can be thrown around without much thought.  However, I believe if the child feels comfortable to start dialogue with a teacher or other adult, the countless over-dramatic children seem to be worth the effort.    

Grief

Everyone deals with grief differently, and I truly believe no one way is perfect.  For those who felt I should be "over it" after Ray's memorial, I simply shook my head in disbelief.  If you are reading this and you have suffered a loss and are still getting "over it" that is okay.  Please know you are not alone, and there is no exact science to when you'll be "over it."  Therefore, food became my comfort, and I must admit I am housing more weight than ever before.  Well, not exactly, because I have lost since January, but you know where I'm going with this.  I'm not proud of this, but I certainly do not need to be judged by my body either.  In all honesty, I would much prefer to be challenged or bullied about pretty much any other topic related to my choices, but weight is just too personal to me and my inner-world.  

I live inside my head most of the time.  For many of my friends and family, this may seem surprising to some.  I can be quite open and talkative to be around, and I can be silly and spontaneous.  This doesn't mean I am an extrovert.  In fact, I am not.  I honestly think too much about everything and everyone - well after and much more than I think I should at times.  I am also what I refer to as a sensitive, not behaving in a sensitive way (which maybe I am too...).  I feel what others are feeling, and oftentimes internalize their emotions.  As I have aged, my ability to feel what others feel is only stronger.  I can feel over an email, a text, a phone conversation.  However, when I was grieving the loss of Ray last year, I was also grieving for my mother, my children, and our family.  I was not concerned with my body or health.  

Words

I could go into explaining how words are simply that: words.  How actions speak louder, and all that jive.  But the truth is: words hurt.  Regardless of their intent, words spoken hang over us like cartoon balloons.  Whether there is heartfelt concern over another person, I believe there could be tact in the situation.  In fact, I appreciate concern.  I just felt slapped in the face.  Yes, time has passed, but my initial reaction is still hanging there...concerning me.  Maybe I overreacted, but I don't think I did.  At the time, I felt others pressuring me to just move forward and ignore the comments; because the source was not in the right frame of mind.  But the thing is, I don't believe that behavior gets to be excused.  I have since accepted an apology, but the words will continue to reflect my feelings toward the person.  I will continue to work through that, but I have never been super good at forgetting.

I'm not one to watch the Oscar's.  In fact, I believe Hollyweird is pretty much not something I care to spend my free time viewing.  That being said, I wish a young Michelle had heard the words from Graham Moore last night: