I've been learning a lot about control over the past several months. It seems every time I think I'm getting ahead of the pain, it catches back up with me. Every time I think I'm getting my life back together, God gives me a gentle push and reminds me this isn't happening on my schedule, but His.
The past two weekends in St. Louis have been great. When I stop and think about my group of college friends, I am always amazed at how we came to be. I am so, so lucky to still be close with these women. We celebrate together, we cry together, we struggle together, we laugh together. One of the "benefits" of my divorce is that I've grown closer with almost every one of them, and my love and respect for this group has grown immensely. It's enough to make me want to create a cheesy slideshow set to Bon Jovi music.
Then I come down off the high of the weekend's bridal shower, dinner with boyfriends and fiances, down time with Leslie and meeting baby Owen, and I realize that my body can only go for so many days without having a day off. And apparently that number of days is up. I wake up, again, to a sore throat. And I'm sure that, again, it will fade after a few hours, but I'm just sick of it, so I stay home. My mom says it's probably sinus drainage and scolds me for not resting one out of every seven days as intended.
A day off is such a great thing. I tend to take full advantage, not accomplishing much more than taking a shower. It's restorative. It gives my body a chance to catch up and brace for another busy week. However, inevitably that free time leads to dealing with the pain I've kept stuffed down, hoping I was done with it.
I finished The Art of Racing in the Rain today. I can't pass up a dog book, and this one has been on my list for a while. The book is great - I'd recommend it to any dog lover. It's written from the dog's perspective, which makes it especially endearing. But when I got to the last page, I found myself crying for all the wrong reasons. I miss my dogs. I haven't seen them since October, and I'm not certain I'll ever get to see them again. It seems silly to be so upset over dogs, but they were the first dogs that were truly mine. I raised them and fell in love with them and took care of them. You could say it's like I'm mourning their death, but that's not it at all. I know they're out there, and knowing that but not being able to see them is even harder.
And then my daily DivorceCare email was all about self-forgiveness. I am really struggling with this and have been for a while. I have so much regret inside me. I know there's nothing I can do to change what happened, and I know that God forgives for all my sins, but I can't seem to find the balance between forgiving and forgetting. I think I'm afraid that if I forgive myself and let all that junk go, I'll forget the lessons I've learned. I also keep wondering if it's really time to give up for good and move on. I know that dwelling on this is not good for me either, but I just can't seem to get past it.
So I had a couple of really tough hours today, and actually, my throat did not feel better. I guess I needed today for a more reasons than one.
Thankfully, donations came pouring in for my Polar Bear Strut (www.somo.org/mandisteward) right around the time of my freakout. Being able to focus on something good helped get me out of my funk. Not to mention made me feel very loved. I know God is taking care of me. And hopefully the times I have to struggle like I did today will continue to come further apart.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
I want to complete a 5k (or, Why I love my job)
Eventually, I'll get around to compiling my list of Things I Want To Do (different from a bucket list since they all have to be about independence). While I'm working on that list, what's the most difficult thing you've ever done on your own? Any ideas for things that would help me with my independence project?
For now, I'm focused on one thing on my list: I want to complete a 5k. Notice I said complete, not run. I am not a runner - I actually hate running. However, I am a pretty good walker, and my family loves to take hikes, so a walking division seems like a good goal. Maybe someday I'll work up to running, but for now I just want to know I can survive the distance.
I've done the Polar Plunge a couple of times, but I've never done the Polar Bear Strut. It's a 5k the morning before the Plunge at Lake of the Ozarks, and it seemed like a logical choice. Since it's in the middle of winter and the course is really hilly, it makes the fact that I'm walking a little less lame. I'll be doing the Strut next Saturday, and I'm really excited to feel the sharp wind on my cheeks and take the cool air into my lungs. As much as I complain about working out, I do actually like the tingling feeling you get in your legs after a long walk, and there's something almost rebellious about exercising outside in the winter. Take that, Mother Nature.
However, most of all, I'm excited because I'm doing this for some of the most amazing people I've met over the past five years: the athletes of Special Olympics Missouri. I often have a really hard time describing why I have such a passion for my job and what the athletes have brought to my life. So tonight, I'll share a story of one of the moments that keep me hooked.
(Mood music to enhance your reading experience)
This past summer, we had Special Olympics National Games in Lincoln, Nebraska. It was an incredible week with so many powerful moments. There are a ton of memories that I'll treasure for years -- Team Missouri's fans were named the Super Fans of the Games; our softball team was so good that they were defaulted gold medals because there was literally no competition for them; our young flag football team overcame the odds to win the national title; and I watched dozens of my friends reach their personal bests, earn medals and make their families proud.
If I had to choose one moment that really exemplifies Special Olympics, it would be from one of our powerlifters, Nick. Nick is a little shy, but his face always lights up when someone talks to him. So in the few years I've known him, I've always made a point to say hi when I see him. We only had two powerlifters at National Games (our other one, Rob, is quite charismatic as well), so everyone knew them.
A little background: Powerlifting was held in a theater on campus. Both of our guys did the bench press and the dead lift. And then they're done. All their training comes down to two lifts. Luckily, in scoring they also get a combination score, so they have the chance for a total of three medals.
I didn't get a chance to watch Nick lift, so I couldn't miss his awards. The theater was packed with cheering fans, which is such a cool atmosphere that there's no way I can convey it here. All I can say is that Special Olympics fans are the best. Our athletes are treated like celebrities. Each time a heat of powerlifters got their medals, the crowd exploded into cheers, giving them praise and attention that no one could have imagined.
Nick's division was up pretty early. As they walked out, we could see that Nick was going to be placed at the gold medal, so Missouri fans were immediately on their feet. Luckily, his family had seats that were front and center. As soon as Nick stepped onto the stand, a huge smile broke out across his face. When the gold medal was placed around his neck, he threw his arms up into the air, victorious. He caught sight of his family and beamed even brighter. He looked out at the crowd, probably a bit overwhelmed for a split second.
And then.
Nick flexed his muscles. The crowd erupted. He struck a pose. The crowd howled. He struck another pose, and the entire audience was on their feet. Suddenly, the two other athletes on the stand figured out what was happening, and they simultaneously struck poses of their own. The three engaged in a full pose-off for a good two or three minutes before anyone could coax them off the awards stand. And the crowd loved it.
That, I thought, is what a champion looks like. That is the type of sports figure we should look up to. That is someone who deserved to milk that moment for all it was worth. That moment will be forever etched in my brain. Even now, my heart swells with pride and it makes me a little teary.
Nick ended up sweeping his division, winning all three gold medals. He was the talk of our dorm. It was early in the week, so everyone wanted to see the medals. Each night, our coaches would all gather in a conference room to run down the day's events. That night, we were in the middle of our meeting when we heard this clank-clank-clank from down the hall. We all knew what it was, so the room fell silent. Nick was about three steps past the window into the conference room when he realized we were all staring at him. He turned, almost in slow motion, and held up his three gold medals as this sly smile crept across his face. We all cheered, again.
It's hard for me to describe the way Special Olympics makes me feel, but I'll say this: it's addictive. I get to witness these moments of greatness. For just a second, the world stops for our athletes. They own it. To see this for a group of people who are often ignored, avoided or ridiculed is simply incredible. It's a happy place, a place where everyone is celebrated and accepted. And that includes me, too -- I won't pretend there aren't benefits for me. Our athletes are the stars, but a quick hug or a high five tells me that they're glad I'm there. When I see an athlete seek me out from across the room, I'm reminded that they want friendship more than almost anything. When they show me their medals, I feel like I've won, too.
If you've read this far, I'm hoping you might be willing to help me make more moments like this happen. Volunteers are the greatest resource of Special Olympics, so please let me know if you'd like to check it out for yourself. Or, if you'd like to contribute to my Polar Bear Strut, you can make a quick, secure donation at www.somo.org/mandisteward.
For now, I'm focused on one thing on my list: I want to complete a 5k. Notice I said complete, not run. I am not a runner - I actually hate running. However, I am a pretty good walker, and my family loves to take hikes, so a walking division seems like a good goal. Maybe someday I'll work up to running, but for now I just want to know I can survive the distance.
I've done the Polar Plunge a couple of times, but I've never done the Polar Bear Strut. It's a 5k the morning before the Plunge at Lake of the Ozarks, and it seemed like a logical choice. Since it's in the middle of winter and the course is really hilly, it makes the fact that I'm walking a little less lame. I'll be doing the Strut next Saturday, and I'm really excited to feel the sharp wind on my cheeks and take the cool air into my lungs. As much as I complain about working out, I do actually like the tingling feeling you get in your legs after a long walk, and there's something almost rebellious about exercising outside in the winter. Take that, Mother Nature.
However, most of all, I'm excited because I'm doing this for some of the most amazing people I've met over the past five years: the athletes of Special Olympics Missouri. I often have a really hard time describing why I have such a passion for my job and what the athletes have brought to my life. So tonight, I'll share a story of one of the moments that keep me hooked.
(Mood music to enhance your reading experience)
This past summer, we had Special Olympics National Games in Lincoln, Nebraska. It was an incredible week with so many powerful moments. There are a ton of memories that I'll treasure for years -- Team Missouri's fans were named the Super Fans of the Games; our softball team was so good that they were defaulted gold medals because there was literally no competition for them; our young flag football team overcame the odds to win the national title; and I watched dozens of my friends reach their personal bests, earn medals and make their families proud.
If I had to choose one moment that really exemplifies Special Olympics, it would be from one of our powerlifters, Nick. Nick is a little shy, but his face always lights up when someone talks to him. So in the few years I've known him, I've always made a point to say hi when I see him. We only had two powerlifters at National Games (our other one, Rob, is quite charismatic as well), so everyone knew them.
A little background: Powerlifting was held in a theater on campus. Both of our guys did the bench press and the dead lift. And then they're done. All their training comes down to two lifts. Luckily, in scoring they also get a combination score, so they have the chance for a total of three medals.
I didn't get a chance to watch Nick lift, so I couldn't miss his awards. The theater was packed with cheering fans, which is such a cool atmosphere that there's no way I can convey it here. All I can say is that Special Olympics fans are the best. Our athletes are treated like celebrities. Each time a heat of powerlifters got their medals, the crowd exploded into cheers, giving them praise and attention that no one could have imagined.
Nick's division was up pretty early. As they walked out, we could see that Nick was going to be placed at the gold medal, so Missouri fans were immediately on their feet. Luckily, his family had seats that were front and center. As soon as Nick stepped onto the stand, a huge smile broke out across his face. When the gold medal was placed around his neck, he threw his arms up into the air, victorious. He caught sight of his family and beamed even brighter. He looked out at the crowd, probably a bit overwhelmed for a split second.
And then.
Nick flexed his muscles. The crowd erupted. He struck a pose. The crowd howled. He struck another pose, and the entire audience was on their feet. Suddenly, the two other athletes on the stand figured out what was happening, and they simultaneously struck poses of their own. The three engaged in a full pose-off for a good two or three minutes before anyone could coax them off the awards stand. And the crowd loved it.
That, I thought, is what a champion looks like. That is the type of sports figure we should look up to. That is someone who deserved to milk that moment for all it was worth. That moment will be forever etched in my brain. Even now, my heart swells with pride and it makes me a little teary.
Nick ended up sweeping his division, winning all three gold medals. He was the talk of our dorm. It was early in the week, so everyone wanted to see the medals. Each night, our coaches would all gather in a conference room to run down the day's events. That night, we were in the middle of our meeting when we heard this clank-clank-clank from down the hall. We all knew what it was, so the room fell silent. Nick was about three steps past the window into the conference room when he realized we were all staring at him. He turned, almost in slow motion, and held up his three gold medals as this sly smile crept across his face. We all cheered, again.
It's hard for me to describe the way Special Olympics makes me feel, but I'll say this: it's addictive. I get to witness these moments of greatness. For just a second, the world stops for our athletes. They own it. To see this for a group of people who are often ignored, avoided or ridiculed is simply incredible. It's a happy place, a place where everyone is celebrated and accepted. And that includes me, too -- I won't pretend there aren't benefits for me. Our athletes are the stars, but a quick hug or a high five tells me that they're glad I'm there. When I see an athlete seek me out from across the room, I'm reminded that they want friendship more than almost anything. When they show me their medals, I feel like I've won, too.
If you've read this far, I'm hoping you might be willing to help me make more moments like this happen. Volunteers are the greatest resource of Special Olympics, so please let me know if you'd like to check it out for yourself. Or, if you'd like to contribute to my Polar Bear Strut, you can make a quick, secure donation at www.somo.org/mandisteward.
Nick, center, posing with the other athletes in his division
Nick showing off his loot
I spent my nights at National Games writing the team blog. If you'd like to read more about the week, click here.
And don't forget to send me some independence challenges!
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
I can make soup from scratch
We had a carry-in lunch last week, so I decided to try this soup my mom has made a couple of times. The last time she made it, she said it only took "a few minutes" and I foolishly believed her and decided to leave it until just before I left for work to prepare. Turns out a few minutes is more like an hour and a half for a novice chef like myself. In the end, it was pretty tasty. Below is a photo chronology of my adventure, and the recipe is at the bottom.
Chopping the onion with my new knife on my new cutting board.
I suddenly realized I didn't have a whisk, so I settled for the attachment from my mixer, which was not exactly comfortable.
And then I realized I forgot to check my catch-all drawer, where a real whisk was waiting.
Chopping baby carrots since I don't have a veggie grater.
Only I can manage to spill broccoli all over the counter and onto the floor when I cut open the bag. Shoot.
Starting to look yummy!
Shoot. Can someone please explain how I was supposed to get the hot mixture into the blender without spilling it all over my stove?
Love the puree setting!
Shoot. This is a huge part of why I rarely cook. And I'll be honest: This sat in my sink for about four days.
The finished product: pretty and delicious! AND I got it into the crockpot without spilling!
Because cooking is a major thing I need to work on in my independence project, this is probably the first of many food excursions I'll include on here. For each one, I'll include the recipe at the bottom, along with my own rating system.
Total time: 1.5 hours
Shoot level (meaning number of times I said "shoot," more commonly known as degree of difficulty): 18
Worth it? Yes, but only if you have some great bread to go with it. And I still prefer the real thing from Panera in a bread bowl.
Panera Bread Broccoli Cheese Soup
½ medium onion chopped
5 Tbs butter melted
¼ cup all-purpose four
2 cups half and half
2 cups chicken broth
8 oz broccoli coarsely chopped
1 cup shredded carrots
Salt and pepper
2 cups grated sharp cheddar cheese
¼ tsp ground nutmeg
Saute onion in 1 Tbs melted butter, set aside. Using a wire whisk combine the remaining 4 Tbs melted butter and the flour in a large pot over medium heat. Cook stirring frequently for about 4 minutes. Slowly add the half-and-half, continue stirring. Add chicken broth, whisking all the time. Simmer for 20 minutes. Add the broccoli, carrots and sautéed onion. Cook over low heat until the veggies are tender, about 20 minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste. By now the soup should be thickened. Pour in batches into a blender and puree. Return the puree to the pot and place over low heat. Add the grated cheese and stir until well blended. Stir in the nutmeg. Serves 4.
Because cooking is a major thing I need to work on in my independence project, this is probably the first of many food excursions I'll include on here. For each one, I'll include the recipe at the bottom, along with my own rating system.
Total time: 1.5 hours
Shoot level (meaning number of times I said "shoot," more commonly known as degree of difficulty): 18
Worth it? Yes, but only if you have some great bread to go with it. And I still prefer the real thing from Panera in a bread bowl.
Panera Bread Broccoli Cheese Soup
½ medium onion chopped
5 Tbs butter melted
¼ cup all-purpose four
2 cups half and half
2 cups chicken broth
8 oz broccoli coarsely chopped
1 cup shredded carrots
Salt and pepper
2 cups grated sharp cheddar cheese
¼ tsp ground nutmeg
Saute onion in 1 Tbs melted butter, set aside. Using a wire whisk combine the remaining 4 Tbs melted butter and the flour in a large pot over medium heat. Cook stirring frequently for about 4 minutes. Slowly add the half-and-half, continue stirring. Add chicken broth, whisking all the time. Simmer for 20 minutes. Add the broccoli, carrots and sautéed onion. Cook over low heat until the veggies are tender, about 20 minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste. By now the soup should be thickened. Pour in batches into a blender and puree. Return the puree to the pot and place over low heat. Add the grated cheese and stir until well blended. Stir in the nutmeg. Serves 4.
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