Snow Day.

Be warned. Happy Blizzard.

Tales from my last 30 minutes ....and good morning!

I love coffee, any coffee. Except coffee that's really sweet and milky or creamy. I like coffee: Dunkin' Donuts, Starbucks, Trader Joes, Folgers, whatever. With gratitude and anticipation, I enjoy every cup of coffee I drink. Well, until this morning. 

This is a cup of coffee.

After one very confusing sip of coffee this morning, I thought, "This stuff tastes like WATER!" Literally, water, warm, caramel colored water. What the ...

Feeling like I had absolutely no choice in this situation, I was forced to walk back to  the kitchen and empty my cup into the sink."This is crazy!" I thought. "Now, I am going to have to *make* coffee in a coffee pot!?" "But .... *this* is so much harder than using a Keurig. Isn't this why I have a Keurig, so that making coffee can be even easier than the 30 seconds it used to take? For God Sakes, it's Saturday morning, I just woke up. It's 10:45 AM.", I passionately implored to no one in particular.

Option number two.

As I resigned myself to the task at hand, I noticed the culprit, an unused K-cup just sitting there on my counter, staring at me (snob). Regardless, there it was, chilling out next to Keurig."Magic?", I thought. I then realized that I accidentally used the K-cup that was in the machine from the previous use and never used the new K-cup to make my first cup of coffee of the day. Mystery solved. But this is still a lot of work and it's 11:04 AM on a Saturday morning right now!  "Who do these machines think I am? Superwoman!?"

This is the culprit.

Roller coaster of good intentions, european chocolate, HBO, and skin care products

Today is Thursday. It is 7:24 p.m. Typically, I would be knee deep in the most hectic time of my day, dinnertime followed by bedtime. My husband and I both work full-time and have two young children. The minute I walk in the front door from my workday, I go into marathon mommy mode. The kids are beginning to transition from positive energy to frantic energy. I quickly whip up two meals, one for the kids (which has to be gluten-free) due to my youngest son's Celiac Disease and something for my husband and me.  Then it is clean up time, bath time, story time, and clean up time - again. Then there is peace and hopefully quiet - and if I am really lucky a Netflix binge session and a Ritter Sport chocolate covered biscuit to be savored.

My favorite 

Wednesday night was no different except that I agreed to go to a friend's house for what I thought was going to be our once usual pizza night with our families only to learn that the gathering was not our usual family play date but was going to be a launch party her new business as an Arbonne consultant. I had heard of the Arbonne brand and its business model through a co-worker who embarked upon selling these products to make extra money earlier in the year.

My friend profusely reiterated that I need not buy anything at all, but to allow her the opportunity to learn her business with the support of a few friends. Understanding this and in addition to the fact that I am consciously trying to save money, I felt little pressure to buy products.

In the less than two hours I spent at my friend's house, I offered to not only buy products with my next pay check, but I found myself offering to host an Arbonne party to help grow my friend's fledgling business and agreeing to schedule a call with the VP of Regional Sales for Arbonne to discuss my new part-time job as a consultant.

Although the VP that was training my friend was good at her job, I am also very impressionable, in a good way. I get excited about things easily, I get motivated very easy, and I often bite off more than I can chew - and then I get sick and throw up.

Initially, I fell for the allure of the savvy VP who drove a huge white Mercedes SUV, the green and clean product lines and the women helping women angle. I also fell for the $2,000 per month income that was promised to part-time consultants.  With my husband and I both working at nonprofits, the added income was an enticing option to say the least. Plus, I like white Mercedes SUVs.

When I got home from the launch party,  I attempted to tell my husband all about my new and fully imagined and very successful business, but he was too involved in watching the pilot of HBO's True Detective while hypnotically folding piles of laundry. Not to be deflated, I decided to do some research on Arbonne to determine if it was as wonderful and green a product as I was led to believe and to figure of this whole new business thing might actually be a reality for me.

Within seconds of my Google search, I came upon this blog post by Meghan Telpner. In this entry, Ms. Telpner examines the Arbonne's product line and explains that the products are not all that they are cracked up to and the company  (which is owned by a board of directors and who was founded by a man) is engaged in green washing. While reading the post, I could feel the air being sucked out of my unbridled enthusiasm and optimistic hope for a fancy and looming vacation. By the end of the episode of True Detective, I had decided to not launch my new business and hesitant about hosting a product party on my house, but I was intrigued by the HBO series and really wanted to eat a Ritter Sport.

My new binge series

The Tiger Runs.

Litters in his homeland could be up to twenty per birth. His mother had just short of this number. He never fully bonded with his siblings or anyone else. Maybe this why he first began to run.

Tigers are active; they run, jump, leap, and stalk. The Tiger was no different except that he excelled as a runner - his speed and precision were beyond any of the others in his village.  He loved the give of earth below him, the accent and decent of mountains and valleys, and the way his mind felt when he was running - alone or a part of pack. It was clear, crystal clear.

One day he started running and didn’t stop. Eventually he could not stop.  He ran thousands of miles away from his homeland through valleys, rivers, over an ocean, through city streets and country roads.

Lost in a haunting maze far from where he started, years later, he is still trying to follow the curves of roads, find the mountains and valleys that once sheltered him, the smell of the sea that once calmed him. Instead he is stuck in this place - this conforming structure he can't escape. Is he too old to escape, to run away, to go back home?

 

Once he travels back,  he will choose another path to follow. He will lead the way. He will choose when to stop, when to sleep, when to chase, when to let go. 

Right now he tries to find this path back wherever he goes.  He looks for creaks and crevices and freights and people to help.  His body is tired and weak. His mind is weaker. It has been a long time since he has been home and he is thirsty.  But, he keeps running.

The Tiger

As a child, I remember watching The Tiger venture into the water, never the ocean; only the safety and confinement of the pool.

The pool was dirty, cold and unopened. The vinyl lining had caved in and crumbled into the sand and water stirred together for more than 10 years.

The Tiger couldn't swim. Parents from his country scared their young away from the cold sea for their own good. Most young never learned to swim. 

The Tiger would venture into the pool with trepidation and flirtation. He liked it. And, he feared it. He respected the depth that called him.

Looking for home, he followed his emaciated soul into that which was below the crumbled lining. 

Just so you know. 

Loving Brene Brown's 

Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead. Worth the read - or listen.

Celiac Awareness Month Heros

The National Foundation for Celiac Awareness (nfca) is featuring gluten-free bloggers in the final week of NFCA's Heroes Within Us campaign.  Check out these gluten-free bloggers and learn something new about Celiac Disease and gluten related diseases and sensitivities. campaign.www.CeliacCentral.org/awarenessmonth