The dog stands alone…

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . November 13, 2010 . 5:19AM

Sometimes I hate being a parent.

Blaspheme, right? It’s true. Part of being a parent means that I have to do the hard work such as disciplining my child when he misbehaves or chooses to mess around in class as opposed to choosing to learn and distract those around him. This makes my job as a parent difficult and unenjoyable.

Lately, AJ has been testing his independence and his boundaries at school. This week he forgot something necessary at school and, as such, he ended up going to bed early and his dog was not allowed to sleep in his bedroom. In this house, one thing is always true: Wherever my child goes, so goes his dog. There has never been a more loyal dog than that dachshund to her boy.

What I knew was that the separation of the two was going to hurt one person: me. Why is this? Because AJ was going to go to sleep and I was going to be left with the whiny, leaky eyed dog that would look at the gaited stairs and turn eyes on me that were alternately hateful, pitiful and pleading. This is exactly what happened. She would go to the gate at the stairs and stand there for 10 minutes at a time while looking up at the darkened stairs and waiting for him to come down to get her. When it didn’t happen, she would come to me, grunt sadly and run back to the stairs. Her message was clearly “Please let me be with him.”

I had to say no. Over 100 times in the 4 hours I was awake after he went to bed did I say no. Eventually, she wore herself out and curled up on my legs. When I finally went to bed she calmly waited at the gate for me to allow her up. When I didn’t, she whined at me and watched me climb the stairs. I glanced at her sadly and went to bed.

Two hours later, I awoke and, eyes half closed, headed for the bathroom door. I happened to look down the stairs and she sat there, quietly and patiently, waiting for her boy.

In the morning, I cannot imagine what their reunion was like, but my son has been on his best behavior ever since and she has not left his side. He also has not forgotten a single bit of work since. Sometimes, a reminder of the people we let down by our failures can be the most honest motivator in our lives.

And sometimes people aren’t actually people but the vision of a dog that loves you more than anything standing alone in the dark waiting for you to come for her…

Genuine Surprise!

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . August 7, 2010 . 9:26PM

I so love a good surprise. Not the “Oh cripes he just spilled a milkshake in the backseat” kind of surprise. One where I had no idea it was coming and it makes me cry like a little wuss.

Because I’m a girl and a good cry from joy can make me happier than anything. And I’m ok with being a wuss.

When I don’t know that anything is coming to my post office box, I check it less frequently. Honestly, I don’t need Hardees coupons or local flyers. When I opened my box this week, I had a gift. It was a slip of an envelope that had Kurt Halsey’s name on it.

One of my first blogs, in a much different time of my life, was about a custom Kurt Halsey piece that Leon had commissioned for me for Christmas. I love his work and lately had been longing for something that represented where I feel I am now.

I mentioned in my twitter that I was wishing for the postcards of his most recent works. I had no idea what I’d do with them, but I would find something creative. In my mailbox this week were these.

Thank you, mystery gifter. You have no idea what kind of week I’ve had and what they meant. Kurt included a couple of handwritten post its that made me weepy.

And I cried.

Like the little wuss I am.

And I loved it.

Heartbroken but not lost

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . June 7, 2010 . 10:53PM

The premise of this blog is that life moves on even though circumstance will try to take you down. The last several months have been a challenge, to say the least, and this weekend, in particular, was trying. I’m surrounded by good people, though, and I continue to remind myself that life will continue on even though it feels like everything ends at each particular point in time that I struggle.

I spent some time this evening reflecting and pushing myself out of my comfort zone and letting myself talk to others and be myself again and what I realized is that my struggle is not singular. If I’m having a bad weekend, someone else reading this is struggling as well. I want you to know that even if your heart is breaking, your body is aching, your mind feels lost and you feel fragile…you are not alone and someone cares deeply for you. The things that happen are hard and heart-breaking and stunning, but they are not the end for you.

Continue to grow and love and move forward. I’m going to try to do the same along with you.

Generosity in Children

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . May 22, 2010 . 8:55PM

Often, as adults, it is easy for us to forget how generous in spirit children are when left to their own devises and without the interference of us “well meaning adults.” Our influence upon them can suck the beauty and kindness straight out of those amazing little souls faster than anything I’ve ever seen in my life. Our disapproval, anger, anxiety and upset can shake them to their core and cause them to look upon the world with distrust and unease. It then becomes a place of distraction. A place where everyone is on their own and should take care of themselves instead of looking out for the interest of others. A place where their true goodness is hidden and they lose the innocence and humanity that they seem to have from such a very young age, instinctually.

However, it flickers. Oh, how it flickers. Like a flame just looking for a little encouragement to grow, it flickers and sparks and waits for the opportunity to shine. Unlike many adults, children don’t necessarily need to shine in front of others or with the purpose of recognition, or even allow their flame to grow at all. Sometimes, they just flame away without even thinking about it and move on. Such simple love and kindness.

I’ve seen this happen repeatedly in my life. Often during my time with my son and his friends and during my time in the school system. A few weeks ago, I saw it during a warm evening at the ballpark.

I was standing in line for one of the forty or so gatorades I buy every year at the concession stand when I saw him: the blonde little boy in front of me who was patiently waiting his turn. He couldn’t have been more than 8, at most, and was clutching three dollars. It was a school night and his eyes looked tired and sad. It was approaching 9 and he must have been at one of the early games and stayed for a sibling game.

I saw his eyes scan the menu. Hamburgers, Chicken (our stand serves Chik-fil-a!), hot dogs, french fries, sodas, energy drinks and many various candies. His little blonde head nodded slightly downward as he looked at the canisters in the front of the stand. Air heads, $0.25. Ring pops, $0.75. Tips for good service, please. Condiments. Napkins. Forks.

He looked carefully back to the menu and then to the canisters again and softly said, “French Fries, please.” The boy at the counter said, “Sure, kid. Anything else?” The little boy looked down at the canisters again, looking hard at the ring pops, and I saw him swallow. “No, no thank you.” He handed the concession stand worker his two dollars and waited for his french fries. They came promptly. He smiled, said thank you and deposited his $1 in the tip canister.

Generosity of spirit can be found in the most unexpected places. I am a lucky woman to find it in so many.

Facebook friends

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . December 18, 2009 . 9:43AM

I’ve never done well with keeping friends for long periods of time. I think much of this has to do with several integral factors in my life. I grew up on a farm and, most of that time, I played on my own. I’m also highly introverted, by nature, and I often prefer my own thoughts to the thoughts of others. It’s not that I don’t care what you think, it’s just that the noise in my own head is so strong that your noise would be overwhelming. I like quiet and solitude and small groups of people. I like to go out, but infrequently. My profession is one-on-one and that connection is important to me in so many ways. It fits me.

It never occurred to me that the people I’d left along the way weren’t really gone. For the longest time I was such a black and white thinker that I’d written those relationships off as lost to me.

And then I found Facebook. Because I’m an introvert, social networking draws me like flies to honey. I can speak to people quickly and efficiently, which also hits my firstborn tendencies, and feel like I’m connecting without losing the energy that I lose in face-to-face interaction.

And then I started exploring.

And found the little girl from down the farm road that I used to play with often. I road my green bike with the banana seat to her house frequently. And not only did she remember me, but she was delighted to hear from me. We still had the connection that we had even then.

And I found the first friends I had when I finally started elementary school. And then those when I moved to a new town.

I found my first group of friends from middle school. We were so close for those four years. It was like we picked up where we left off. The best friendships are always like that, aren’t they?

I found my high school best friends and my college best friends. I found people who weren’t best friends, but that I like more as adults than I did as children. They have grown into amazing people that I love.

Through other social networking sites I have found people that I love more and more each day.

For me, I think it was just a reminder that, though there are times I feel alone and have certainly felt alone in the past, I never was. They were with me. They missed me. They were there.

And they still are.