In Memory of Dolce, My Baby

As I mentioned in my Spring Break post, one of the occurrences was that my little Dolce passed away. So in memory of him, I thought I would share his story.

Originally, I had fallen in love with a different skinny pig. I had gone to the pet store so many times over problems with my fish that eventually my perspective turned from “That is the ugliest thing I have ever seen!” to “I absolutely love him!”. The unfortunate part was that as I walked into the pet store just as this little girl was walking out with my skinny pig. I was devastated. My boyfriend (future husband) at the time was able to send me a list of other pet stores because my heart was too broken to go home without this skinny pig.

I made it to another pet store, and thankfully, there was one skinny pig. I picked him up happily and took him home. This became my Armani.

Armani was an amazing pet, got along well with my dog and everything, but he started screaming at night. Upon some research, I found out they were companion animals and so the reason for his screams was loneliness. Thus began the hunt for another skinny pig.

We just happened to find this “werewolf” skinny pig, about an hour’s drive away. We made that drive. Dolce was a pure black skinny pig. He was less friendly than Armani, but the two got along well. However, it wasn’t more than a few months, and suddenly, we came home and Armani was dead. There weren’t any fight marks or anything, and of course, the pet stores do not record the age of small animals, so I do not know the cause of his death. We watched closely to see if Dolce would be as lonely as Armani was, but he seemed to be fine on his own.

Through our remaining time with Dolce – 4 years – we moved twice, travelled with him to the states several times, and just had such fun with him through everything. He was our little buddy. But as he aged, and as his last week of life came (unknowingly), I was thankful to get to spend some extra time with him before he passed. He will always be my little buddy and I will miss him incredibly.

My little Dolce's last bath, drying under a nice towel with his most favourite food in the world: carrots!

My little Dolce’s last bath, drying under a nice towel with his most favourite food in the world: carrots!

Spring Break – Teacher’s Humour

This is a very short post, but I had to share this chuckle!

As all teacher’s know, Spring Break is a much awaited time! Finally we get a few days to just relax!

Yesterday, I had a grade 5 student come into my classroom and say: “Ahhh…. Mrs. D, this week is killing me!” When I asked the student: “Why?”, the student replied: “Because I am done with school. It’s almost Spring Break!”

Oh hunny, if only you knew…. if only you knew…

Week 6 Day 4

I finally got it last night on the treadmill. I finally thought up a few examples that really showed me things that were very difficult to forgive, but I have forgiven. As I reviewed my list, I realized these things hurt me more than they have ever made me angry. I narrowed my list to four things as I only wanted to summarize yesterday’s topic before presenting what I had prepared for today. My list consisted of the following: My father did not attend my high school nor my university graduations, my sister almost died due to the doctor’s mistake of putting latex elastics (of which she’s allergic to) in her mouth following jaw surgery causing her to near death, my friends burned down my family’s camp in a drunken stupor one Halloween night which contained years of memories that will never be replaced since my family was in the middle of renewing the insurance, and finally, the one that is still able to make me cry at any moment, is the fact that my grandfather died when an impatient driver went to pass a semi-truck and ran head into my grandparents’ vehicle coming in the opposite direction. Four extremely difficult situations I had to go through.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that yes, these things cause me sadness, but I don’t hold grudges against the people who were guilty. And here is what I figured out:

1. My life philosophy: Hate what the person did, but don’t hate the person. The truth of the matter is, if sin did not exist, the person would not have done what they did. God did not design us to be this way, but we all sin because of the fall in the Garden of Eden. When Jesus returns, sin will no longer exist. Therefore, just as we reflect on ourselves being sinful, hate the sin but not the person.

2. Allowing someone to suffer what we choose to be consequences for what they’ve done is a method of passing judgement. We are not the ultimate judge. Yes, Earth has judges for major sins that are here so that hopefully less sin will be created, but who are we to gossip about those who have made mistakes against us? We cannot claim to be the judge that God is, and thus should not carry out such punishments.

3. I thought of the story in John 8 where the people brought forth the prostitute expecting Jesus to agree that she should be stoned. However, Jesus responded in a way they didn’t expect, and that was that whoever had not sinned should be the first to cast a stone. Yet, nobody could because everyone had sinned. In this same way, how are we to again, punish others in such a way yet expect forgiveness for when we do something?

4. In a way, Jesus became the person you are upset at. Jesus did not just die for one person’s sins, He died for ALL of humanity’s sins. Think about that. In order to truly die on the cross for us, He had to essentially become all the bad things that we are. He became the bad in all of us. And I thought if I were to see the face of Jesus in the person I’m upset at, would I really be able to stay upset? This is a hard one to think of…

With that being said, I quickly summarized and prayed that those ideas would stick for anyone having difficulties with forgiveness. I then proceeded to continue with my topic for today.

Today’s School Spirit Week day was Tacky Day. Quite frankly, I hate this day. I don’t find “fun” in dressing tacky. But I do it to support my students. So tacky it was. When trying to think of a topic associated with dressing tacky, it quite easily came to me that the topic should be on how life can get messy. And I had a great personal story about this that I was given permission to share, and that was on my step-sister, Natalie.

Natalie was a child with a free spirit that did not easily get along with my dad. Quite understandably, it is hard for a man to come into your life that in a way seems to be taking place of your dad. I can completely relate to that. But she was encouraged by her true father to move out early. She moved out with her boyfriend at the young age of 15. She then proceeded to get involved with drugs which eventually led to many (I believe up to 15) times of being in and out of rehab. Then, the fearful happened. She became pregnant.

During her pregnancy, she seemed to come clean. She moved back in with her mom and my dad, and although there were still some arguments between my dad and her, she seemed to be doing alright. Several months later, twin boys emerged. They were premature, but healthy. I sing my praises to God that those boys were and still are healthy. So many things could have happened. But as they were now born and she fed from a bottle, it was becoming noticeable that she drank.

One Christmas break, my sister and I were at our dad’s, and our step-mom noticed she was getting an alcoholic drink. And so, my step-mom locked up the alcohol in her bedroom. What came next, none of us were prepared for. She went ballistic. She was pounding on the door, screaming that it was unfair, that they should allow her to drink, and finally that she was going to get her babies and they were going to leave. This got so out of hand that it got to the point, the almost unbearable point for my step-mom, that the babies were in danger and the police needed to be called. Keep in mind, my poor dad is running three things at the same time: apologizing and trying to lighten the mood for my sister and I, trying to console and counsel my step-mom, and keeping my step-sister and her babies in the house while keeping unwanted people out.

When the police came, they gave her the option of going upstairs to say good-bye to her babies. She fought and fought them until they eventually and literally dragged her out of the house. If only I could share with you the nightmare. I have never heard someone scream and yell like I heard her scream and yell that night. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought she was being stabbed to death. The awful things she was yelling at her mother would definitely be carried for a long time. That’s when I really knew what addictions could do.

She was released the next day, and I expected that when she called, she would at least ask how her babies were. But do you want to know the ONLY question she asked? When her mom could come get her and take her to get her Methodone shot. No joke. I was in shock. To care about a drug replacement shot to help with her previous addictions over the care of her own children.

Later, she did move out into her own apartment with her children, but by that Friday, my dad and step-mom had the boys over for a sleep-over that they would never return from. She was not using her finances for the true care of her children but rather to feed her addictions, and so learned that she could live on her own again while visiting her children as they were kept at my dad’s.

As much as I’d like to say that she got the help she needed, I can’t. I can remember a conversation we had late one night where she was telling me that the worst thing for her was realizing that she had no dreams left. She used to want to be an actress, to be all of these big things in her life. But she realized that her addictions have drained all of these hopes, all of these goals and dreams out of her, and she had nothing left. Perhaps this was one of the most painful realizations for her. Because one night, in winter, I received a phone call from my dad. His voice was shaky, and he sounded as if he was ready to cry. As much as Natalie and him fought, she was still a huge part of his life as his step-daughter. And I believe this is what made it so difficult that the police had shown up on their doorstep the night before asking them to come and confirm the identification of the body they had found under a bridge. Upon investigation, they had come to believe that she had jumped off the bridge as there was only one set of footprints in the snow that led to the railing and thus leading to the body below. What a hard thing to accept. After years and years of drug abuse, of alcohol abuse, and of accepting that you have nothing left to live for in life, I can only imagine the pain she must have been in. She knew that rehab wouldn’t help because it hadn’t in the past. She couldn’t seem to escape the relationship abuses from men, the fact that she couldn’t find the help she needed nor the inability to escape the addictions that had control over her. This was nothing short of terrible.

Of course, the following fear came that child services would take the boys away. But my dad and step-mother fought for custody of the boys and thankfully were awarded it. And to this day, they are doing the best they can while parenting as grandparents. They boys are doing so well, I’m happy to report. But one day, and my father has talked to me about this, he knows the boys will ask where their mother is, and why they don’t have one like all of the other kids. And he fears that conversation. He fears revisiting and telling them that their father has never wanted anything to do with them and that their mother was so involved with such horrible things that she couldn’t take care of them and eventually couldn’t even take care of herself. What a hard conversation to have with children. I can’t even imagine.

I asked the other teachers and staff to think about the children we have difficulties with, to think of the things we don’t know about in their home lives, the burdens they carry to school each day. Because sometimes, it only takes one family member to make life messy for everyone else. And when especially dealing with children, those background messes need to be considered.

I had to rush through this worship a little as you can probably imagine as it got a little long. But I left people crying and with deep thoughts. Because the truth is, sometimes life sucks. Life can be unfair. The devil is at work so much in our lives, trying to tear us away from our Father who loves us, and unfortunately he uses things like drugs and alcohol that have a way of hooking us and can be very difficult to get away from. Things like drugs and alcohol have a way of consuming people and making the gift of life that God has given us seem pointless. And unfortunately, I see the devil in much of Natalie’s life, laughing and smiling at her misery. And yet in the same scene, I see tears running down Jesus’ face as He watches the destruction of His daughter, the one He loves more than anything. It’s a sad scene, not an easy one to grasp and still not the easiest one to talk about. But as my father said, it’s important to use these stories to help prevent others from making the same mistakes and if this story will help someone, then it is worth talking about.

I didn’t workout today as it was a rest day, but I do hope that you reflect on this, especially if you or someone you know is suffering with addictions. Addictions are something so incredibly unfortunate and cause so much pain to everyone. Take intervention now. Pray that the God of healing, the God that has already defeated all evil in this world will help you overcome. Because there is no power greater than God’s.

Week 4 Day 3

Two words come to mind when describing today: exhaustion and stress. It was so hard to get out of bed this morning. My body aches, my mind needs more rest, I’m nothing short of totally exhausted.

The school day went fine, and I had to stay after work for another 2+ hours for a meeting about a tutoring program that we’re trying to start up at the school. This alone was not necessarily stressful, but extremely tiring when you’re already exhausted.

After the meeting was over, I didn’t even go home. Our dogs were out of food, our skinny pig would be out of food soon, and my husband needed some “sick foods” replenished. So I went to the mall. What should have been a half hour trip turned into an hour and twenty minutes or so.

First, there was a homeless (or maybe not so homeless) man standing outside the grocery store. He was asking people for food or change. Now, I’m all for providing people with food because I know it will go to good use. I’m usually a little more cautious with money in fear of feeding an alcohol or drug addiction. He didn’t specifically ask me, but I heard him asking others as they went by. As I’m sure God would have it, I went inside, kicked myself, and walked back out, asking if I could buy him a sandwich or something he liked. He looked so surprised and happy and told me his preference of cheese and mayo (simple) and that he would really enjoy some milk. I’m not sure about you, but it has been my experience that if someone has dropped to the level of begging for food, that person has passed the level of humiliation. It is not easy to be someone who is at the point of standing by the grocery store door begging for food. And so, with this in mind, I went in and found a loaf of bread, a package of cheese slices, a jar of mayo and a jug of milk. He didn’t mention any meat so I was unsure as to whether he even ate meat (knowing a lot of vegetarians myself). But I got the bulk items so that this man could not just have food once but several times. And I did not pick the cheapest items because I know the blessings the LORD has given me. What pride if I shared some of my gifts with someone in need. Am I rich? Far from it. In fact my husband and I are in the middle of trying to balance our budget and get rid of some of our debt. By many financial standards, we are just getting by. But by someone, like a homeless man’s standard, we are doing well. And so I wanted to give this man not just quantity but also quality and selected items that were a little better than others while still trying to think simplicity to ensure he liked what I gave. When it came to the milk selection, however, I went organic. Not necessarily for the health option, but also because it was the only milk that came in a jug instead of a carton, and not knowing how far he had to go, a jug seemed like the better carrying option.

Either way, the whole point of that whole tangent of a story is not simply to boast about something I did, but rather to encourage you to pass on some good will. I don’t know the man’s story. I don’t know if he was really homeless, but the fact is that I’m not supposed to be the judge, God is. And so I can only do what seems to be the right thing. If I was hungry enough to beg for food, I can only imagine how thankful I’d be for someone to share with me. It’s definitely something to consider the next time.

So after that little time block of a detour, I went back into the grocery store to find the things my husband needed. I had a list, so it wasn’t really that bad. What was bad were the line-ups. It was like several busses had come and dropped everyone off. Plus they had like 3 promotions going on at the same time so the transactions took twice as long.

Finally, I got the stuff to my car. By this time, I’m starving, I can tell my blood pressure is low, and I’m not feeling good at all. So I made a bad choice. I bought a small package of candy and a small chocolate bar. Was it quick carbs to elevate my sugar levels? Yes. But were there better things I could have chosen? Absolutely. This was a weak moment. I moment that caused me to over my macros for the day. A moment I would go back and change. It didn’t even taste as good as I thought. This was a food fail.

I went to the second store, finished buying the things I needed, but tried to carry everything without a cart (14 kg dog food bag, skinny pig food, bag of hay, dog bones). Needless to say, this did not work so well. I ended up leaving the stuff and getting a cart. Lines were long again, and eventually I made it to the car.

But this particular mall has a parking lot challenge. It seems to contain many impatient people. I almost got hit a few times. For example, as I was leaving and slowly backing out of my spot, a car flew behind me, barely squeezing between my car and the car parked behind me. There was no thought of waiting until I had finished pulling out. Those kinds of things.

When I finally got home, I was so happy. So exhausted, tired, and just worn out. It felt so nice to be home. I was going to make today a rest day, but my husband really wanted to go to the sauna. So while he sat in the sauna, I did 25 minutes of steady state cardio on the elliptical.

To be honest, I feel really bad about the food. I know better than that. But I guess this is a reminder, a lesson to remember. There are better choices and I made a bad one. But this is a reminder to prepare even for the worst situations. And should the event arise where things take longer than expected, I can make a better choice.

Off to bed and a better day tomorrow!

The Gym = My Ultimate Stress Relief

So, my husband and I have been trying to find a second vehicle that is in newer to new condition, low mileage, and within our budget. There are a few other key factors, such as need to be AWD or 4WD because the winters here are drastic. It has been such a struggle. 

Last night, it really got out of hand. You see, stress does horrible things, and when it’s something that you’ve been stressed about for almost two weeks, that stress seems to build up and almost take control. Unfortunately, that’s what happened last night. I was freaking out. My husband felt lost. We were not in a good place.

He severely injured his calf a couple days ago and couldn’t join me at the gym. And as tired as I felt, I knew I needed to go. Even though I went by myself, I spent almost 3 hours there, and didn’t even touch a cardio machine. I lifted and lifted and lifted. 

Metal takes the punishment. Metal takes my anger. Metal allows me to release the stress I have and won’t fight you back. I’ve found nothing that depletes my stress better than a solid workout at the gym. 

I call these stress workouts my emotional workouts because I go through so many emotions if I’m that stressed. At first, I was tired, lifeless, wondering if I was really going to workout or not. This was a matter of going through the motions. Then I started thinking about things between my sets, during my rests. Then I picked up the pace and just lifted, and lifted, and lifted with very little rest. And then my hardness seemed to break. My body was getting worn out, my brain was getting worn in.

I had acted ridiculous. It’s not just me dealing with a future decision. My husband is there with me, going through the exact same things. And yet in our discussion, I had talked mostly of myself. I had been completely selfish. And though I’m not a fan of people who text at the gym, I got my cell while doing ab work on the floor, and texted my apology. I would only message during my rests, but it helped to settle things between us, to connect again. It helped to resolved things which helped me finish my workout strong. Feeling balanced and almost normal again allowed my body to really breathe and relax during my final stretches. By the end of the workout, things were right again.

The gym and working out does so much for me. There are so many benefits, so many blessings it provides. It helps me to manage my life, manage my stress, manage my thoughts and emotions. The gym is always there for me when I need it (except those weekend nights they claim to be “24 hours” but they’re not). But it’s something I can take my feelings out on without the worry of hurting anyone else. It’s amazing.

I’m curious what the gym does for you. How does it help you in life? Leave a comment below and share your story. I’d love to hear it!