Tag Archives: growth

Development

“How have you developed emotionally, spiritually, mentally and physically over the last 12 months?” [Grit & Virtue]

One rainy Saturday, Young Gun made me sit down and watch Batman (animation) movies all afternoon. Dishes were in the sink, clothes needed washing, the floor needed vacuuming and we still had to move, but he put his size 13 down and I obliged.

One of my most favorite comic book characters is the Joker. Something about his sarcasm, wit and overall cookooyness (made up word…you’re welcome) resonates and the moments of humanity that peek through (barely) always had me curious about who he was really. And then, on said rainy forced-to-relax-Saturday, I got to see the man behind the (not so funny) jokes.

The Joker used to be a pretty decent guy, according to the story told in the Killing Joke. If memory serves me right, he had a fiance, he was a struggling magician and trying to live life on the up and up. Then he fell into an unfortunate circumstance which led to crime, Batman, and vats of something sinister. The rest is history.

When I think about the question of my development over the last year, I recall the evolution of Mr. J. Everything evolves. It is a large part of existence. Change is bound to happen when the circumstances change. The environment dictates the growth. The environment around us helps to develop who we become.

To think about how I have developed or evolved over the past year is dizzying. Mostly because I really do not know the answer, and searching for it is giving me a headache. What I can say, is that I know I have evolved–it is inevitable. I also know my evolution is not quite as, uh, ruthless as Puddin’, but I do suppose it will be fully revealed over time. When it is revealed, it will be a perfect fit for who I am today.

When the Killing Joke ended it all made sense. Who Mr. J was at the moment was not who he had always been. His development (no matter how twisted) was shaped by his past wins, losses, and run-ins. He was still himself, just a little…different. I do not doubt my development is the same, albeit not as twisted.

~SM

Do Your Boobs Hang Low?

Can you tie them in a bow? I can’t quite do that, however, if I am laying just so I think I can toss one over my shoulder. Hey, listen, age happens. Things drop. Hips hurt. Knees remind you you are definitely mortal. Of course, there are always plumpers and fillers, doctors and knives to fix those sort of things. But why bother? I figure, if it hangs low—let it. If you can throw it to and fro—do it. Its all temporary anyway.

Acceptance. It is the first stop on the journey to find 40. I cannot be flip with everything in life, flicking a boob and middle finger. There are some aspects of life I have to accept, and the most important item on the list is my body. Like, for real this time.

This soft ol’ gal has helped me run twenty whole, real (slow) miles (and crawl the other six). She has held three kids and spit out each one healthy. She has looked the other way when Patron shots were aplenty and she has kept on pushing when the tank was below E. She has endured weight lifting, Insanity, hiking, biking, and running when the scale (and knees) said it probably wasn’t a good idea. She has kept me when day turned to night turned to day and no sleep was had. She has fed babies and barely fed herself. She has managed to continue to love and provide for me and those around me when all I could do was point out her every, miniscule flaw. She wore the white hat. She was the gladiator when I couldn’t be. She kept me standing in the sun.

Looking back, it breaks my heart to remember the things I thought/said about myself. I was always so busy trying to look how I thought beauty and comfort should that I neglected what was already wonderfully made. I was so worried about revering what I didn’t have, I neglected who I had.

On this first leg of the journey, I have got to carry as little as possible. I have got to step onto the path with only the necessities in hand. I cannot possibly expect my body to carry burdens never meant for her to carry. She has enough to handle. She will have her hands full, anyway. She’s got to learn how to tie these boobs in a bow 😉

~SM

Being Helpful

I have about $34 to my name currently. I also have a $20 bill nestled safely and sweetly in my wallet. It has lived there for the past 3 weeks. On top of the $34 and the $20 I have about $1000+ I will  spend in the next few days for a baseball trip–of which I currently do not have. Go figure. The only reason why I have not drowned my sorrows in cake and ice cream just yet is because I have faith that He will make everything okay. But you know what they say…faith without work is dead. So, I decided to put in a little bit of work.

I hate asking for help. I would sit in the dark with only candles for light before I opened my mouth to ask for help. It is unfortunate, but it is who I am. I am learning, however, that that is what family and friends are for. So I put a little bit of my head on their shoulders when my back is crushing the wall. This week (please reference the $1000+ above) my spine is cracking the drywall. I asked for help.

My aunt and uncle were one of the first to answer the call. When my uncle answered the call, he reminded me to tithe. It was a funny thing he had mentioned it because it was nothing more than confirmation. Just a week prior I had prayed about my situation (as a whole) and what I should do and the only thing that came back was that. It stayed on my mind for days afterward–you know that nagging pull and tug? Yes, that was it. Okay God, I understand. I have a plan. Starting July 1 I would have it all in place. So–yea–the thing about God and plans….

Remember the mention of that sweet little $20 bill I have tucked away? It is no longer tucked–in my wallet anyway. YG came into the office looking for food to feed his face. He also mentioned that he was trying to drum up cab fare for a lady who had been sitting in the lobby trying to figure out how she would get to where she needed to go. Angel tap, mental nod, bye bye $20. He took a $20 bill out of his wallet ready to hand it to her and I slipped my $20 out too. “You sure?” He said. “Yup.” I said. “Ok, I will try to get you your money back.” I shook my head. “No need. I don’t want it back.” And truthfully, I didn’t.

Someone sewed a seed for me in my time of need and it seemed only fitting that I did the same. The Angel tap didn’t hurt either. I have learned not to argue with God or to hem and haw at His instruction. We have no idea what His plan is. It feels good to be helpful when I am in need of help. To be able to give openly knowing it is His will and for His good and not my own, feels right. I like feeling good and right. It also feels kinda cool to get my sweet little $20 back…she didn’t need quite so much after all 🙂

~SM

Sommertime Vacation

Every year, usually about 2-3 weeks prior to my birthday, the Universe plops a big gigantic A-Ha on me and I am enlightened. Every. Single. Year. I have yet to get my A-Ha (mean face). Or, perhaps I have.

A couple of mornings ago, I was flipping through Facebook and felt completely over it. Sure, it is nice to see people’s updates and pictures and it is as equally as nice to share my own random thoughts and photos, but in all actuality….who gives a shit? I mean, realistically, how many people care I had Mommy’s mac & cheese or if you found a t-shirt 50% off? Who cares if you write a dissertation on your wife and how great she is or who really wants to see you and your phantom boyfriend holding hands at the movies. Quite honestly….do you care? I suppose the same could be said for BSM. I mean, who cares if I am struggling with running 3 miles or having a parent breakdown? Somehow, though, this seems different…it seems…helpful.

Anywho, I have the overwhelming need for balance. I feel the need to cut off everything that is a distraction and get back to the basics. And by basics I mean pen, pencil, notebook, board games, no clutter, GNO’s with just a great movie and the couch, books with actual bookmarks, the Bible and Beethoven. Oh…and Being Sadie May (of course).

It should be fun and exciting to actually take a summer break from all of the junk I allowed to slip in. Maybe I will actually be able to complete some things I have been desperately trying to get done. Maybe I can focus long enough to finish my novels. Or perhaps I can actually lose weight. I could possibly get back to centered. Maybe…just maybe…I can slide my way back to beautiful Me (smile). Sommertime Vacation just might be my best A-Ha yet. What fun this is going to be!

~SM

26 Point 2: Chicago Bound

It has taken me a minute to actually write this down. It has actually taken a moment for it to sink in (which it still hasn’t just yet). On October 11, 2015 I will be running (or crawling…whatever) 26.2 miles through Chicago (or as The Boy likes to say Chiraq). I get butterflies just thinking about it.

I applied for the Chicago Marathon lottery on a whim. Who ever really gets picked for that anyway? Well, obviously people do or else there wouldn’t be a race, but you know what I mean: I would never get picked for that anyway. But…I did.

Because I got picked (Brooklyn did too btw), I certainly cannot turn it down. Why would anyone do that? It is the Chicago Marathon after all. From what I heard it is a great first marathon, it is a beautiful run and it’s Chicago. I have never been there. I get to experience something new.

So, I paid for the registration, bought a plane ticket, booked a hotel and started marathon training via Nike+ on Tuesday. Will I make it? I dunno. I’m damn sure gonna try though. Why not? Besides, I also have the Rock n’ Roll Savannah Marathon in November and the Peachtree in July so I have to start seriously training anyway. Might as well throw another race on the barbee.

Hi, I am Sadie, and I am running the 2015 Chicago Marathon. Yes…on purpose. Yes that is 26.2 miles. Yes…I think I am a little crazy 😛

~SM

Death (And Other Grown-Up) Prepping

I am a single, 35 year old mother of 2 with no life insurance, disability insurance, retirement fund or emergency fund. If a bird shits on my life the wrong way everything collapses. I am on the brink of turning 36 and I suppose it is time for me to become a real, live grown-up. First thing first—Death Prepping.

The hardest thing a person will probably ever do for themselves and for their families is create, read and sign their Last Will & Testament. I spent last night’s baseball practice reading and re-reading my Will. It puts lots of things into perspective, especially when you do not have much to leave behind.

I read through the Will, imagining The Girl and The Boy sitting in a lawyer’s office listening to him read my last wishes. Morbid. But necessary. Being prepared for your death is less about you–it is about who you are leaving behind.

I think the thought of doing a Living Will came from (don’t judge me) Grey’s Anatomy. Derrick dying, Meredith having to make whatever decisions, Bailey bugging Ben about what he wanted to do in case it was left up to her–it all translated into real life. What if something did happen to me? Would my loved ones know what I wanted? Hell…did I really know what I wanted? The Will was easy to deal with…the Living Will was what had me reeling.

Thinking about what I wanted done in the event of something I cannot possibly predict was hands down harsh. What if I am pregnant? Do they save me and then the baby? Or just let me go and save the baby? What if they want to amputate a limb? Will it save my life? Can they leave the limb and still figure out a way to save me? How long, if at all, do I want to be hooked up to machines? Who will I appoint to carry out these wishes and pray they do not let their emotions get in the way? See…I told ya…harsh.

To ease some of the morbid tension between my future self and my sick/dead self, I decided to focus on something a little bit more cheery: Retirement. My plan has been (and continues to be) to live out the rest of my days in a Charleston beach house with the ocean as my back yard, teaching horny 20 year olds about literature and writing. I refuse to be 65 skrimping to live. I want to actually set my bills to auto-pay. I want to have several commas in my savings accounts and no negatives in my checking accounts. I want to be able to live in peace with no financial worries.

Planning for your death, sickness, and retired life is exhausting. I was so tired by the time I got done with all of that, I had to go to bed early. But, when I laid my head down on the pillow, I felt accomplished. I felt ready. I felt…like a grown-up.

~SM

Happy Anniversary Sadie May!

Whelp…we made it. We made it through The Split, The Boy’s and The Girl’s antics. We made it through the confusion of Life and the possibility of New Love. We moved out of our old home and tipped our hats to good times. We had discussions about sweaty armpits and naked vaginas. We grew a little stronger as time passed. We learned that thinking too much is definitely not a good thing. It has been a fun, full ride. We made it.

A lot can happen in a year. It is safe to say not only did I manage to pack away a marriage, but I also opened myself up to love again. I managed to grow up a little and be okay with who I grew into. A lot can happen in 365 days.

Kay, a good running buddy of mine, suggested (well…pushed is more like it) I write in this arena. I am so glad she did. She said it would do me some good to get it all out. I can’t say she was wrong. I am pretty sure you don’t always want to hear about what goes on in my life. There are real life tragedies happening out there everyday. Reading about random things like what to wear on a first date or wearing The Boy’s deodorant is not exactly life changing. But just knowing that you stuck around to take a peek anyway means the world.

So, cheers to us because we made it! Here’s to another 365. Who knows what will happen next 😉

Yours Truly,

Sadie May