I don’t get the opportunity to travel much—it’s expensive and hard to find the time. But mama still needs a break now and then. When I seem to need it the most is at night.
“That’s what sleep is for,” you say. “It’s the body’s way of recharging and rejuvenating.”
If you can sleep.
But I have insomnia.
There’s nothing special about it. It’s not caused by any underlying medical condition, medication, noisy neighbors or my snoring husband. It’s just the normal “life is crazy and I can’t shut my brain off” kind. Most nights thoughts run around my head like ponies on a souped up carousel.
A few years ago, my family rescued a wire fox terrier. Maisy had been a puppy mill mom for the first seven years of her life and came to our family after finding refuge in an amazing organization in northern Iowa.
Life in a puppy mill—it can’t get much worse for a dog.
You talking about me?
We often say Maisy is broken: she doesn’t play with toys or balls; she flinches when touched; she sleeps most of the day instead of bouncing off the walls with typical terrier energy (maybe that’s not a bad thing?).
But even with all her broken bits, she’s taught me a lot about being human as I’ve watched her blossom in a normal environment…well, as normal as our home can be. Keep reading for more awesomeness…
One of my favorite movies is 1998’s “Sliding Doors,” starring Gwyneth Paltrow. The movie’s central idea: Harmless, inconsequential decisions set in motion the domino/butterfly effects of our lives—change one thing and you risk altering everything. That’s incredible and scary. We are faced with hundreds, even thousands of those kinds of choices every day. How can we recognize the important ones from the “it’s not even going to matter” variety? Keep reading for more awesomeness…
I looked back over the oodles of posts I’ve published and realized I need to lighten it up a bit. If not for you, dear readers, then for me. On that note…
I’m from a smallish city in Eastern Iowa that to this day only has two malls (I know, the horror), one of which was less than a mile from the house I lived in for almost twenty years. Westdale Mall was built in 1979 when I was ten, and from the first day it opened, you couldn’t get me to leave.