A Good Dump

Definition Dump:

noun
1. a site for depositing garbage; a place where a particular kind of waste, especially dangerous waste, is left; a place where weapons and other military equipment is stored; a heap of garbage left at a dump; an unpleasant or dreary place; an act of defecation
2. a copying of stored data to a different location, performed typically as a protection against loss; a printout or list of the contents of a computer’s memory, occurring typically after a system failure

verb
1. deposit or dispose of (garbage, waste, or unwanted material), typically in a careless or hurried way; abandon or desert (someone); sell off (assets) rapidly
2. copy (stored data) to a different location, especially so as to protect against loss; print out or list the contents of (a store), especially after a system failure.
3. tackle (a quarterback) before he can throw a pass

Let me preface this piece by saying I’m going to spill some guts here. If you can’t handle a little of life’s sliminess, this read isn’t for you. If you are okay with some unbridled truth mixed with a tad of crass humor then I will do what my body does best by urging you to read on…

Sometimes we all need a good dump. Emotionally or physically, it can help release something internally or externally that just needs to be purged from our body.

Hi, my name is Carrie, and I’m addicted to my toilet. Well, I’m not, but my rear end is. To me, it’s the best seat in the house.

I have been fighting a battle I have kept publicly quiet about for over 5 years. I will share about it one on one with folks, but to voice it and put it out there like this – is hard (much like I wish my bowel movements were). The bathroom is a private place and that’s where most of my story on a daily basis takes place. To say I’m emotionally spent doesn’t begin to cover it. My IBD yearns to remain active enough to keep causing me daily grief, but not ‘bad’ enough to warrant surgery (not that I want the kind of surgery ‘bad enough’ would offer at my ripe young age of almost 33). I live in limbo of, What should I do next?  My body gives a whole new meaning to “Don’t beat yourself up.” And it’s completely out of my control. Per my autoimmune disease, I’m the only one bad enough to kick my a$$.

Previously, I touched on the outskirts of the emotional journey of having an IBD. The words Alone, Isolation and Misunderstood were at the center. Also, checking in on those ‘blessings in disguise’ they are not always easy to find because they’re coming in a pretty nasty, debilitating and frankly sh*@#y disguise…

So much in and of life gets taken for granted, and most of time you don’t even realize you take it for granted. It is only when something is taken away do we truly realize its value.

A toilet. I love a freaking toilet. Period. I often wonder how long IBD has been around and cannot imagine living with this in the days of an outhouse or less. Plumbing is such a wonderful thing. Heck, our internet was down for a few days recently and all it taught me was a good pioneer, I would not make. How did they survive without social updates…especially if or when they were under the weather and isolated? Can we say first world problems?

Flushable wipes. Oh. My. Goodness. Toilet paper is easily my very own version of the Goldilocks and the Three Bears story. Don’t get me started on crappy, cheap toilet paper. On the other hand, too soft tears too easily creating a ‘fun’ (and I use the word fun about as loosely as my stools like to stay) mess. Flushable wet wipes are ‘juuussst right’ and my hiney’s personal BFF. They’re even more lovable when you’re super irritable down there with an agitated hemorrhoid or two.

A good night’s sleep. Who doesn’t love a good night’s sleep? I get it. And there are many out there with sleeping problems. Having an IBD is like living with a newborn every night except you’re the one you’re constantly changing. It leaves room for little rest.

A good meal. I have always loved food. Eating is such a social function too. Food can be an IBD patient’s worst enemy and many times unpredictably. There are many moments I am forced to choose to not eat because it’s just not worth the pain and disruption (and sometimes eruption) afterwards. It’s hard to sit around and watch everyone else indulge wishing you were delectably indulging with them.

A quick carpool line. Now, I’m fully aware most any parent enduring a carpool line at school enjoys when it moves along efficiently, but on carpool’s swift days, my butt is eternally grateful. The anxiety of crapping myself in carpool line (or any traffic for that matter) is always a fear. Urges are unpredictable and when they hit I can give the game of hot potato a run for its money. You may think, Okay. At least you’re in your car and you can get home and change…but what about the smell when someone is assisting your child into the car? Can’t exactly hide that wonderful stench. How embarrassing.

The sunshine. IBD takes an emotional toll. Days of no sun makes it harder. When that sun shines, soaking it in (as long as a bathroom is nearby) is beyond refreshing. Something going in rather than coming out…ahhhhhh 😀

A coca-cola. I finally caved and gave up alcohol a while ago (won’t deny, I was in denial about no longer enjoying an adult beverage especially after a long day, and it’s another social activity others enjoy that gives me a run for the toilet), but to have to give up my favorite little red labeled drink – I may have shed a tear or two. It’s become a celebratory drink. Maybe that makes it even more special.

Healthy food. I was also in denial about what our foods do to us. It is still something I am exploring and learning about, but when I eat as green and clean and as organically as I possibly can, my explosions are not quite so explosive, and I LOVE that.

Meditation. Oh, what peace. Yoga, body stretching, mind relaxing, I love it all. The feeling of being centered again gives you somewhat of a feeling of ‘control’ even if it’s just mentally. You can’t be too modest though…if we are in a class together and you hear a noise that makes you want to giggle – it was probably me 😉

The compassion of someone who gives a damn and shows you they do. It’s easy to feel judged, misunderstood, and forgotten when you have an IBD. I fiercely cherish those who have remained close to me despite my shortcomings. We all need to know we are thought of once in a while. Human connection is imperative to a joyful soul. My gratitude to those still centered in my life comes from the deepest parts within ❤

A good poot. I cannot even begin to describe how delightful it feels to expel gas and not be afraid of needing to be inches from a toilet or worrying if you’ll need to change your underwear. I absolutely relish when I’m able to let it rip (and usually am grinning when I get to do so).

Energy. Fatigue is part of having a chronic illness. You are naturally just ‘give out’. When you are having a good day you want to bottle it up and run with it. You get to take your kid to school without freaking out about how long the carpool line is. You get to make plans and not break them. You get to indulge a little more than you would normally allow yourself. You shine a little brighter that day with big smiles at your significant other.

A good dump. I take great pleasure in a nice firm movement. They feel SO GOOD. Consider yourself beyond blessed if you are regular, firm and healthy in the pooping department. I envy you!

Our digestive system is so intricate. It baffles me. The fact digestive disorders are on the rise is concerning. What makes them even scarier is they’re different and affect everyone differently. No IBD patient is exactly the same. Some medicines work for some while they don’t for others. Some foods send some people into severe pain while those same foods don’t affect others. It almost makes an actual cure seem impossible.

If I can heed you any advice – take care of your body. It is your daily life temple. When your health is taken away it affects your life in just about every aspect possible. I pray steadily for a cure or remission – to regain some regularity to my life. And I will always savor those ‘good’ days. I hope you remember to do so as well.

If you’re still here, I thank you kindly for the dump. It felt really good. And if I see you and it’s a good day, let’s share a coke. Just put a splash of rum in mine. After all, the fact we’re simply ‘feeling good today’ is cause for celebration 🙂

IBD Alone

I hate winter. It’s dead. It’s cold. It’s hard. My emotions always seem to follow suit. Especially after the holidays, which seem to have a comfort & joy sensation. This January has been a tougher one. Not only do I just hate winter, but I’ve been dealing with my IBD and I feel alone. Utterly alone.

When you have an IBD, you often feel misunderstood. On the outside, I look ‘normal’. I ‘look’ healthy. On the inside, I hurt. I am scared. And I’m tired of fighting. Many times I have felt judged, and sometimes by those who have felt like they should be closest to me. I don’t ‘look’ like I should feel fatigued, they think I’m lazy. I don’t ‘look’ like I’m ‘sick’, I shouldn’t have backed out of that commitment. This IBD, especially when it is active as mine is, is no joke. You feel like things are out of control and there’s nothing you can do about it. You feel as though you’re constantly letting someone down. People do end up backing away. They no longer reach out to you about getting together or even seeing how you are. They don’t understand. This is a daily, lifelong, chronic battle. Each day could bear something different than the last. I pray for the day I could possibly go into remission and this 5+ year battle comes to a close, even if just for a while. Maybe then the feeling of isolation will somewhat dissipate. I can actually be everyone’s standard of ‘normal’ again…

Through this battle, I have done some life and self examination. The feeling ‘alone’ always pops up. Quietly, inwardly alone (and that’s hard on the soul). Especially, when I have felt overly exposed by Him. I’m sure it would surprise many that I battle this ‘alone’ insecurity (I can come off fairly social), but the insecurity is almost always there. Sometimes it’s covered up pretty well and even I overlook it, but it’s usually not gone for long before it’s there again.

It’s my exposed ugly place that He’s had me working on. It’s been my focus for quite some time now. I’ve made strides and feel somewhat more content, but when there are setbacks it’s hard not to focus on that and keep moving forward. One setback does not define you. I pray this Psalm (a lot) 16:8 when I feel ‘alone’ creeping back in, “I know the Lord is always with me. I will not be shaken, for he is right beside me.”

Over the last year, I’ve been trying to learn how to see the ‘blessings in disguise’ – those life lessons from this journey I’m on. One of the biggest blessings is I cherish the good days all that much more. My smile is brighter. My laugh is heartier. My energy soars. I know the good days are truly something special and worth every ounce to fully live in them. I don’t take them for granted. Another thing I’ve learned is I love a little harder. My love is fierce for those who stay closest to me. We are not promised tomorrow. Through this challenge I pray daily that God continues to reveal moments of wisdom. I need them.

So winter stinks. But there is one thing that winter is not – it is not ugly. Oddly, I find such beauty in the nature of winter. It’s flat out stunning sometimes. It can do things no other season can. It can sparkle with ice. It can bring a crispness to lungs when inhaled. It can drop white beauty from the sky. And when the sun shines on a cold winter day it seems to shine so much brighter. I try to remember this when it feels like ‘winter’ sneaks into my life no matter what the actual season may be. Beauty is there, in the broken-ness. I am not alone. One day, whether in this life or the next, I will make peace with this and all its ‘blessings’ will be revealed. But I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t admit that I will continue to pray with steadfast hope that it will happen while I’m still here on this side of heaven 😉

My Monkeys, My Circus

“This is what I like about photographs. They’re proof that once, even if just for a heartbeat, everything was perfect.” Jodi Picoult

I have always loved pictures. I have always loved a camera. So it came as no surprise when I fell in love with being a photographer.

I love capturing memories for people. Nothing beats giving them something tangible to look back on. It makes my heart swell. Life is full of busy-ness and a photograph is life’s pause button ❤

When I look back over all of the special occasions I have been privileged enough to be a part of: from on-the-shoot proposals to weddings to baby showers to maternity to newborns to families to pets to head shots to birthday parties to sporting activities to foster pups and adoption stories, and so much more, I am humbled. My heart feels full at the end of each session.

Candid shots of families and friends in the moment with each other are the best. It is when an instance of real life is arrested in a photograph. These are my absolute favorite pictures. Life is messy and hard and goofy and sad and crazy, and sometimes it’s all of that at once.

When these times of chaos occur they are what I tag the ‘Gag Reel’. It is in the midst of trying to seize an instant of a perfect pose that pandemonium breaks loose. These fleeting moments tickle me. It is when we learn to laugh when we probably feel like crying. It is learning that happiness happens when we learn to let go of what we think our life is supposed to look like and celebrating it for everything that it is. Things feel silly, out of control, and sometimes frustrating. They always make the BEST pictures because it is real life. That is the day to day. Those are the moments we actually live in.

With Christmas card season upon us, and everyone trying to capture the perfect family shot thought I would share my family’s experience trying to get a good picture with all four pet dogs. Yes, there is a decent picture and those who have seen it tell me how adorable it is. I smile and say, “Thank you. It was an event.” because I don’t remember getting the perfect posed shot. I remember how the minutes were really spent and the recollection always makes me chuckle. It was crazy, frustrating and fun.

When I saw the images I laughed until I cried. Having the moment of the chaos captured is priceless because it is an honest depiction of my life. Being able to laugh in life (and sometimes at ourselves) is so important for our soul.

So when you have an overly active five year old and two dogs who look like they have lost their marbles and a little dog who lives in her own little world and your husband is no longer sure what to do about the situation or when life is more like the dog in the back to the left (will leave it at that) remember to “embrace the glorious mess that you are” (~Elizabeth Gilbert).

Even though a photo can make everything seem perfect, life is perfectly imperfect and since every picture tells a story don’t be afraid to tell yours truly. Because the truth in my world is, if chaos is a work of art, then my life is a masterpiece.

From my circus to yours ❤

You’re Here…

“When I look to the sky, something tells me you’re here with me.” ❤

I awaken early this morning which isn’t abnormal, but instead of rolling over to go back to sleep my heart all ready aches. The weight of November 28th always stings. I know my mind won’t let me fall back asleep, my thoughts are all ready too consumed of you. I get up. I have a task to do for a turkey anyways. Season it. My mood is grumpy. This time of year is usually emotional now. I feel cheated. The holiday season doesn’t ever feel complete anymore. Something always seems ‘off’.

It’s challenging. November 26th is my anniversary. A wonderful time, a happy time, a cherished time followed two days later by my least favorite memory. How do I not steal moments from my marriage with the impending dread of November 28th? I try hard to be more present during this time so I can focus on the moment I’m in, but it’s always there. I’ll find myself snappy or impatient or just plain grumpy, and at first I’m not sure where it’s coming from. When I stop to gain control of my emotions, I quickly realize it’s sadness speaking out.

Back to this turkey. Season it. I’m tiredly and admittedly cranky seasoning this turkey. I feel like the naked bird – bland. Wish I could throw some salt, pepper, garlic, thyme and sage on me and VOILA! Transformed. As these thoughts are running through my head, the sky through my kitchen window catches my eye. “Beautiful.” I mumble to myself. I finish my task, grab my phone and tea, and head for my safe haven – the back porch. It’s quite nice outside to be so late in November. I snap some pictures. I let the moment soak in. You’re here. This is you saying good morning. Thank you for coming on the morning I need it most. I feel a little uplifted.

Back inside I decide to make your trademark breakfast, oatmeal. But not the same this morning, with a twist. Spice it up. Season it. Transformed. (Btw- it was good. Link here: http://www.foodista.com/recipe/64CFRJ68/baked-smores-oatmeal)

After getting dressed, we decide to go pick out a Christmas tree. I snap a picture of course making the 5 year old pose in front of the selected tree. I see the sun rays coming in on the image, but when I get home to really check it out one ray shines brighter than the rest. Yes, I see you. Thank you. We’ll take this tree home and season it too. Transformed.

As I’m riding back home the car in front of me catches my attention. The last kind of car you drove. You’re definitely here, especially today.

The rest of the day provided more distraction than emotion. Which is a nice and needed break. You knew that too, didn’t you? You sat back, you watched, you smiled. You enjoyed seeing the laughs and grins and hugs throughout the day.

I felt you once again this evening. Watching my brother, at 29, tackle a new sport, hockey. Oh, you smirked (quite a few times), I felt it. Your presence was so close, a couple of times I thought I’d turn to my right and you’d be sitting there leaning back, arms crossed, long legs stretched out in front, with that smirk on your face you got when you were really tickled at something. You loved it. And were proud of your son (and probably slightly impressed too). My brother chose to try something new. Season it. Transformed.

Five years. Five. Has it really been five years since I’ve hugged your neck, held your hand, curled up in your lap (yes, even at 27 years old I would curl up in my daddy’s lap) or pecked those lips (yes, we’re ‘that family’ that goes for the lips)?

With blurry eyes as I’ve written this, a tear finally escapes and slides down my cheek just now. It makes it all the way to my neck. A chill sets in deep. To try and explain how time passes when a close loved one is lost is hard. Time flies by, as it often does in life, but at the same time it feels as though laughter or a touch or tears were just shared with the one suddenly missing. Wasn’t it just yesterday…

“Time heals all wounds.” I’m not particularly fond of this saying. When a wound heals, it leaves a scar, a reminder. You do get used to this new life without this special person, but time doesn’t make the loss any easier.

I saw a quote not long ago, “The wound is the place where light enters you.” It caught me where I least expected it to. There is truth here. But only if you allow it. I felt the light all day. It doesn’t take the pain away, but I smile through the tears. And I’m left – transformed.

Daddy’s Little Girl

Happy birthday, Dad. I’m sure your heavenly birthday is grand, but sure do wish we could celebrate together. Found this going through ‘old stuff’. I miss you everyday and know how lucky I am to have had you to call Daddy. Love you ❤

The first one to hold her it was love at first sight.

An instant spark of life. A moment when everything was just right.

Her first smile. She learned to walk.

She loved to laugh and boy could she talk!

Through the years he would watch her laugh and cry.

He would teach her many things and make her believe she could fly!

Whenever she wanted, she’d crawl into his lap.

They’d be together for hours while taking a nap.

In her eyes he was perfect. He could do no wrong.

She wanted to be just like him, wanted to dance to the same song.

He raised her well and now she’s growing up.

She’s becoming her own person. She drinks from her own cup.

Change and time has affected them both. The sky has no limit.

She wants to know everything and all that’s within it.

As their time together becomes more distant, it is the way life goes without fail.

But there will always be that Little Miss Muffet’s fairy tale.

There will always be the unconditional love and life with its fantastic swirl.

But wherever she may go, she will always be Daddy’s Little Girl.

Written by CAA 12.30.2000

Puppy Paradise

Double your pleasure. Double your fun. We’re definitely not running the Doublemint ad over here…

It’s more like double your pressure, double your run. Running to stop the chewing…running to stop the barking…running to stop the fighting…running to stop the indoor potty-ing…sigh.

But they’re SO cute, right? Sigh. Don’t let their picture fool you. It was taken back when we first got them almost two months ago. They’ve grown quite a bit since then and their little cat fights sound more like two wild beasts going at it for the final kill. Most days it feels like I’m running a three-ring circus. “Prepare yourselves! You’re about to witness the craziest show on earth!”

I’ve been amazed at how smart these two pups are. Although they each are a different kind of ‘smart’. She is what I call clever. She is stubborn. She ‘knows’ what we want, yet she chooses to do what she wants. You can see the challenge in her eyes when she stares you down as if saying ‘What are you gonna do about it?’. He is what I call intelligent. Things click quickly with him. He learns quickly. He aims to please…except when she’s around. Yes, she’s the ringleader. The alpha. The instigator.

Together the mess they can get into is hair-pulling-teeth-gritting-audible-sighing mess. I’ve ‘blessed their hearts’ more times than I can count. It’s true what they say, they’re so precious…when they’re sleeping! It’s hard to keep the choice of two in perspective when one is chewing on the bottom of the kitchen cabinets while the other is peeing down the air vent.

This brother and sister duo can be chaotic, but they’ve also brought lots of love and laughter into our home. We’ve belly-laughed watching him discover and chase his own tail, and her bounce like she’s Tigger with springs in her hind legs. It’s as if they’ve lived here for years. They’re a natural part of our family. They love to be loved and to give love. Snuggles and softness and wet kisses are part of the package with these two. It’s double the loyalty, double the love.

It’s always easier said than done, but isn’t that true with most anything? This too shall pass and I’ll soon forget how crazy they made me and long for those ‘cute puppy days’.

I’ll try hard to remember that while I’m double-lamenting for my sanity 😉

Anything and Everything

The slow rise and fall of your chest, your breath at rest. I could stare at you forever. The tiny blond hairs that run along your body. I could stare at you forever. You’re beautiful, my little love. Made perfectly. Dream. Hope. Believe. My song for you sweet one. Since you were a babe lying across my chest curled in my arms. Love is the only word I can think of when I want to describe how I feel about you. But even that doesn’t seem to fully sum it up. Make a wish ❤ Always ❤

What do you dream about
Look at the stars, honey
All you gotta do is pick one out
And it’s there for you
I’ll be the one who makes
Your every dream come true

Close your eyes and baby
Make a wish and baby
I’ll give you anything and everything
The sky’s the limit and my heart is in it
I’ll give you anything and everything
Anything and everything

Where do you want to go
Look at the world, baby
All you gotta do is just say so
And I’ll take you there
Oh yeah, you know that
Love can take you anywhere

Close your eyes and baby
Make a wish and baby
I’ll give you anything and everything
The sky’s the limit and my heart is in it
I’ll give you anything and everything
Anything and everything

I could spoil you
Make it easy
Make you happy if you let me
Won’t you let me

I’ll be the one who makes
Your every dream come true

Close your eyes and baby
Make a wish and baby
I’ll give you anything and everything
The sky’s the limit and my heart is in it
I’ll give you anything and everything
(I’ll give you) anything and everything
(I’ll give you) anything and everything
(I’ll give you anything and everything)

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things (11-20)

Finding a masterpiece by nature.

The smell of a fire burning in the country.

The peaceful sound of some favorite wind chimes in a slight wind.

The refreshing sound of running water in a cool place on a hot day.

The anticipation of the right time to pluck a growing melon.

Going on adventures with my boys on their boat.

Remnants of baseball practice in the backyard.

The smell of mint when walking on the front walkway.

A collection of sea treasures on the front porch.

A basket full of memories.

Eucharisteo ❤

Images copyright Bourne & Abell Photography, LLC.

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These Are A Few of My Favorite Things (1-10)

The ‘pop’ in the color of the old, sometimes forgotten, shells after being rinsed by rain.

The smell of a favorite scent burning.

The kitchen windowsill that displays the current season harvest.

A candle illuminating a dark space.

Catching a glimpse of a hummingbird’s feeding time.

Finding an empty cocoon.

When the light & dark meet in the sky.

The smell of a pot of stewing homegrown tomatoes.

Fresh eggs collected from the hen house.

Completing a challenging yet stunning puzzle.

Eucharisteo ❤

Images Copyright Bourne & Abell Photography, LLC.

Shedding to New

It’s been a while…to say the least. Close to a year. So how do you capture a year? How do you adequately express all of the happenings of a year? We’ve been discussing time in a devotional group I’m participating in.

Time. The indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole.

The book we’re reading dares to suggest ‘time is life’. It feels as though there is so much, yet so little all at once.

I’ve caught myself noticing the little things lately. In the midst of all the big: husband’s new job, house reconstruction, new puppies (yes, plural), new kindergarten student; I’m finding myself noticing a butterfly, hearing the chickens clucking in the backyard as if in some crazy conversation, a beautiful sky, the smell of dessert baking in the oven, the taste of summer peaches, the softness of puppy fur, the shell a bug shed left stuck on some wood.

This past year has felt, in many ways, like the ending of something. A change in my husband’s determination professionally, the last time I’ll have my only ‘baby’ at home with me, the redesign of the house we’ve always known, the downward turn of the health of our beloved older dogs (yes, again, plural) ❤

I spent the 10 weeks of my son’s ‘last summer before big boy school’ jam packing it with fun times. The first week of school was a blur. It went by quickly. As we get into a new routine, I find myself reevaluating time. My time. I want it to count. What makes it count? Finding joy in the little things? Appreciation for learning? Receiving grace? It’s definitely bigger than the routine of the day to day. Of going to work. Of completing tasks. Of living in monotony.

I feel an excitement. Almost like life is ‘on the verge’ of something. I have found myself recalling the shell of the insect. Not sure many consider it beautiful, but I find myself mesmerized, almost relating to it. What does the bug go through? Is it scared when it realizes it’s time to shed an entire layer of itself? Does it just know? What happens on the other side? What does the new skin feel like? Is it sticky with uncertainty? Or firm with clarity? Regardless, it happens. When it’s time. How beautiful. Isn’t that what life is like at moments? If we stop and slow down, don’t things tend to take their course naturally? Why rush? Why push? Instead notice. Explore. Live.

I wrote this to my new kindergartener on social media as he began shedding his outer layer and is beginning to enter into his new skin: As our final summer day draws to a close, memories of sweet summer time moments make me smile. You are one amazing little guy & I am lucky enough to call you mine while we’re here on this earth. Thanks for one fun summer, Pug! I’m looking forward to watching you grow in your next big adventure. I find this could apply to me as well. My only child at home. A new role is emerging. A new routine. A new normal. So here we are celebrating our last moments together in our old skins as we shed and emerge into something new. My only prayer is we take the time to celebrate our new skins just as we celebrated our old ❤