I Am From

I admittedly stole this writing exercise from a creative writing blog I came across (and promptly lost...so I can't credit it! Sorry- I told you I was new at this!) But if you want the template I googled it and found it at this website. http://allthings2all.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-am-from.html I would love to hear what you come up with..

I am from reality television, from Starbucks and the X generation.

I am from the suburbs, from a house nestled in a woodsy cul de sac with stark white walls, smelling of new wood floors and cleaning fluid, filled with sunsets and laughter and long talks with friends and family.

I am from the redwood trees, the ocean, the orange drenched poppy fields. The warm sunny days that are long gone…replaced by cold, dreary Chicago winters.

I am from Christianity and conservativism (with my own rebellious streak), from my mom and my dad and my husband too.

I am from the stubborn and the sarcastic, the encouraging and the hospitable. All of which are considered gifts in our family – equally.

From “life isn’t fair” and “money doesn’t grow on trees”. Which were mixed messages that I am still trying to sort through in this land of “need to” and “must have”

I am from God. I am His child and have been for 29 years. And I continue to learn and grow into more of his child each year…as I realize how little I actually know and how much I can not control Him no matter how hard I try.

I’m from California and diversity, pizza and fast food. All of which are important to me in one way or another.

From the daughter of two alchoholics who neglected their children, from the son of the strong one in the family and the sister of a liberal doubter. Somehow I survived and thrived and learned from each of them in their own way. How to be strong and take care of people and listen to other’s viewpoints without judgment.

I am from lovingly crafted scrapbooks. Filled with pictures and quotes and creativity which line the shelves of my mother’s home. While my own pictures sit in boxes forgotten in my basement gathering dust.
These are my roots. These were my beginnings. This is where I am from.

It Just Ain't Fair

One of the worst things about being a parent is explaining life to your kids. Because the truth is...life is not rosy and fun all of the time. My parents would always say "life isn't fair" to me...and I hated it then. But it was truth.
Life is not fair.
And no matter how hard I try to make life fair for my kids...it just isn't going to happen.
It is not fair that friends are mean to them for no reason.
It is not fair that people break their promises.
It is not fair that their father has to work in another state and they can't see him.
It is not fair that we are moving away from all of their brand new friends.
It just is not fair.
And it breaks my heart when my soft hearted daughter is sobbing her eyes out because someone decided not to be her friend any more. And I could not explain why because I did not know. And there was nothing I could do to fix it.
I just had to sit with her and hold her and let her cry.
And the worst thing about being a parent is that sometimes you have no answers. Life just is the way it is and the best thing I can do is teach my kids how to deal in a cold world.