Confessions of an Ugly Duckling

I've been thinking about this blog for a while now, mainly because I couldn't decide how to present it. I want to express my feelings, but also want to avoid people thinking I am fishing for complements. (I am indeed NOT fishing for complements.)  I only decided it was okay for me to post this, when I read my good friend MJ's Blog Post a few days ago.  Check it out here!  She hit on the same things I had been thinking about.  Mainly the craziness that is the female mind, but more specifically, a phenomenon I have always referred to as Ugly Duckling Syndrome or UDS for short. The theory is basically this: When a female child grows up having not been as attractive as their peers, it doesn't matter what they look like NOW, they will never be able to see themselves as anything other than that duckling. They might grow to love themselves, but they will never fully understand, or appreciate their beauty as others see it. While you may see her as stunning, she will just see herself as not ugly or better. 

The story of the Ugly Duckling, a story told only to people who are currently in that particular situation, was one that I heard a few times when I was growing up.  I have met several new people this year and even those I have known for a couple years seem to have this idea that I have always been pretty, but I assure you, that has not been the case.  As a baby I was pretty standard. I was a cutie with lots of blond hair and chubby cheeks. However, as I got older I got awkward. I began to hear more about how smart I was, how great of a friend I was, how AWESOME my personality was, how cute I was. I heard every other adjective available but, never pretty, gorgeous, lovely, or beautiful. I admit, I do not blame people for not finding it necessary to lie to me. I donned an amazing curly mullet, my nose was about 2 sizes too big for my face, I have slightly larger ears than most, and I'm pretty sure that my mom had to beat me into a dress on Sunday Mornings. My sister and I were quintessential tom boys. We grew up in the country, riding our big wheels down to the creek, playing in the fields, climbing fences, and roaming bare foot along the turn rows. There was no place for fashion, long locks of blond hair, or pig tails. I was also a child with a slight attitude, and a goofy spirit. Therefore, 9 times out of 10 I had a strange snarl, or bizarre smile on my face!  I was between 5 and 7 when these picture were taken. 

At age 6 was when I first realized that appearances were something I might need to worry about.  At 6 years old I had a 3-wheeler accident with my PaPaw.  My sister was on the 3-wheeler too, but she was behind my grandfather. I'm certain I had thrown a fit to get to ride closest to the handle bars.  We ran through a barbed wire fence, and I ended up with a lot of stitches, a crooked smile, and a 2 inch scar on the side of my mouth.  In the months following the accident I heard lots of apologies about my face, and my scar, and over heard lots of questions about how it would look when I was older.  Year after year we had the same conversations about the accident, and how well my scar would be covered when I wore makeup.  24 years later I'm completely okay with it.  I have actually gained a fondness for that particular imperfection, but as a child I worried about it.

As I got older, I continued to look more and more awkward.  My hair got longer, but my nose did not get smaller, and my teeth got far more crooked than should be allowed.  By the time I was about 11 it was not a good situation. We had added glasses to the mix, and I was now obsessed with basketball and other sports.  I wore a pony tail, tee shirt, and athletic shorts all the time.  I realize my cake says 14, but that was by B-ball number! :0)

 
By 12 things were not looking up.  I was now in contacts, but the nose, ears, and teeth were still VERY overwhelming! I was in that 6th grade, and while I didn't struggle making friends, being invited places, or having a boyfriend, I did struggle with how I felt about me.  People started noticing my nose and nicknames such a Gonzo and Snuffleupagus were rampant, relentless, and didn't stop for 3 years.  Of course, it was all of my friends and teammates who were calling me these names, and since I wanted to keep them, I laughed and played along.  This was the year the I perfected smiling when I wanted to cry, and answering everything with no I'm fine, it's funny!  Which is still a strategy I use at 30.

 

At 15 things were a bit better. I was wearing makeup, had braces, and actually dressed up now and again, I knew how to do my own hair and started growing out my bangs.  I was still a straight up, female, (non lesbian) jock.  We were constantly on the court or in the weight room.  I had a few boyfriends, but by that time I had pretty much established myself as "one of the guys" so that really wasn't a big priority for me. At that point it became less about my face, and more the look of my body, that made me cringe.  I was 5'8 and about 115 lbs.  For perspective, right now I am the same height and weigh about 145.  I would have drop 30 lbs to be HS skinny again! NO THANK YOU!

 

 

I had spent my junior year talking to my parents about plastic surgery, which they agreed to, and spent the summer before my senior year recovering from my nose job.  Yes, my parents let me get my nose fixed. A decision I have never regretted, and never looked back on.  It was truly a turning point in my life. 

  

 

By college I was feeling better and better about myself, by the time I got married I was starting to feel pretty, and today I can honestly say I Like Me!! What's interesting is that with each passing year I have found that being an Ugly Duckling has made my life, as an adult, more productive.  I'm glad that I can appreciate what I look like now.  I'm glad that when people tell me I'm pretty, I am genuinely surprised, because I don't think about myself in that context. I love that I don't wake up in the morning and take it for granted. I know that beauty is fleeting. The best part is that I didn't have beauty to work in my favor as I was going up, so I was able to develop other skills.  I developed a friendly personality that has never been fake. I learned about honesty, and refuse to be deceptive.  I found integrity, and a work ethic, and learned how to carry myself so that I wasn't overlooked.  I love looking at the girls I work with and seeing myself.  I can't keep from thinking.  "Just hold on sweet girl. just wait, because in 10 years you'll be a knockout!!

I actually worry about my daughter.  Literally, once a day a stranger walks up to her, and tells her how pretty she is. Don't get me wrong I am beyond blessed to have children that are adorable.  I love that Cam is being built up as a child, so that she has confidence to face the challenges as she gets older. Although, I would be lying if I said that I hope she never has to experience a taste of what it's like to be awkward.  I want her to be real, I want her to have friends because she has a personality, I want her to wake up at 28 or 30, look in the mirror, and say, "There you are! So...you must be the girl that's been hiding inside." 

Confessions of a Broken Heart

I'm not sure that anything in this world is worse than losing someone we love.  You see I have this theory about loss.  It goes something like this....When God created the world (and us) he created us to be forever beings.  He didn't create us to lose those we love or to ever die.  That wasn't his original purpose.  It wasn't until sin entered the world that death also came into play.  That's why I think it is so hard for us mentally when someone passes.  We weren't meant to say goodbye, it's not in our nature. 

As a parent I can't imagine ever losing a child, regardless of age, it just isn't natural.  I think it's just as hard when you lose someone and you don't know if they could have been saved.  If you could have done more or said more.  You start to analyze every word you ever said, wondering if you would have just said ONE more thing, THE RIGHT THING, you could have made a difference.  Of course I know that everything happens for a reason and that ultimately no fault can be assigned, but some days believing that, is harder than others. 

It's officially been 730 days.  I count days, because that is how often I think of you, and some days I count the minutes, because your memory is just that strong. I didn't realize at the time that I should be memorizing your face, your words, memorizing all the things that made you...you. Deep down inside I knew the end was near, but I couldn't make myself believe it.  I wanted there to be one more time, one more call, one more chance for me to make it okay.  I wanted to pretend that there was plenty of time for new memories. More weekends of fun, and laughter, crazy jokes, and south park impressions, but all too soon the times we took for granted were just cherished memories.

Your call never came, yet my phone rang none the less

 I remember the day, I remember the call

I remember the moment that changed it all

My tears wouldn't come

At least not at first 

My heart wasn't ready at accept the very worst

 

My heart aches each September

and I struggle with regret

The last words that were spoken I'll always remember

and that last call I'll never forget

 

My mind and your memory always bring me back

and remind me that your spirit's free

Living in joy and peace and forever that's where you'll be

 

In Loving Memory of Aaron Isaac Bradley Peel. Our hearts will never be the same!

Confessions of a Baseball Mom

So to go along with my last post I think I will go on a "confessions" blog title binge. I won't lie, especially since I admitted it in a status update earlier today on FB, I did not grow up aspiring to be a mom.  Actually, when it came time for us to have kids 7 years ago it was Rob that did the asking, Rob that wanted to start a family, Rob that couldn't wait.  I on the other hand was thinking, "what ever shall I do with a little human?"  Of course, I have learned that nothing compares to having kids.  I would not trade them for the world, and the vast majority of my greatest joys, have been watching them grow and change, and accomplish new things.  One of the things I was adamant about was my refusal to ever be crazy sports mom! Don't get me wrong, I knew my kids would play sports, we love sports, but I refused to be the psycho mom in the Team Shirt, with her kids name on the back, with a matching hat, and window sticker.

Now that the background has been set, and the rules have been laid out, now I can get on with the confession....

So a few weeks ago Colby signed up for Blastball, which is nothing more than 3 and 4 year old Tee-Ball.  I thought I was safe and completely on track with the "none psycho mom" rule.  After all I had managed to watch Cam play soccer for 2.5 years and never get a sticker or a tee shirt.  That's not to say (in the beginning) I didn't fight the urge a few times, and of course I looked like the paparazzi with my camera at her games, but I managed to make it! No stickers, no hats, no shirts, I was proud.  Then today it happened, I walked out of my house with this...

....and it was like I snapped, how in the world could I not want a Rangers shirt, with the word Mom, and the #8, on the back?  Thank heavens I lasted all day without a trip to Hobby Lobby, but I have to ask myself, how much longer can I hold out?  How many more times can my adorable kids come out in their precious uniforms without me cracking like an egg? How long until my car is Covered in stickers with names and numbers? How long until I have the tee shirt and the hat?

Disclaimer:: I DO NOT love my son more than my daughter, but I do love baseball more than soccer! So much so that I may I have teared up at the first sight of him. One thing I will guarantee is that the same reaction will hold true when Cam walks out in her first pair of knee pads and volleyball tights. At that point I'll be just a jazzed for her, and at that point, I don't know that I will be mentally sound enough to fight it! I guess as long as I stay out of a mini-van a few window stickers won't hurt...right? :0)

Confessions of a Binge Runner

I have to confess! I am a binge runner...actually I am a binge EVERYTHINGer.  You see I'm the kind of person that does things in spurts.  Take this blog for instance.  I go a year without blogging only to blog twice in one night.  I get crafty for a spell and then I stop.  I eat really great for a few months and then eat nothing but junk.  It really is a very strange thing.  My journal is a PERFECT example of my bingieness. I will write everyday for months on end and then nothing for weeks. I binge shop, NOTHING new for months and then BAM, shopping spree (loosely defined I'm teacher). I binge read, 5, 6, 7 novels in just a few weeks, only to go for weeks on end without picking up a book. I think a lot (note that's 2 words), while I run, and tonight I figured out this phenomenon while I was jogging.  My first jog in about 10 weeks!

I started my last workout binge in January of this year! I literally worked out ALL the time.  I was going to bootcamp, running, and hitting the gym.  I was really excited about my body (well as excited as a girl with body image issues can be) and I loved how I felt.  Tons of energy, less stress, and just an over all healthy outlook. Enter April and the dang warrior dash.  Actually it wasn't the warrior dash's fault, it was my thinking that I could run my normal 3.5 miles in 5 finger shoes, WRONG!! So I ended up running the warrior dash with a stress fracture and then wearing a boot, for what was supposed to be 3 weeks, but lasted roughly 5 days! :0)  This however did not completely stop my binge. I still did some elliptical at the gym and even some weight training.  While I had slowed down considerably, I actually thought I had lasted long enough that I was in, full on, life altering, no going back, non-binge, workout mode! Well I thought wrong.  The binge ended on roughly May 23rd (okay that might be more of an exact date).  What was supposed to be a few days of rest turned into the rest of May, the WHOLE month of June, 1 workout at the gym in July, and ONE (only one) run/walk in August.  Yup....My binge was over!

Then Sadly, without warning, as these things often do, the vicious workout cycle trapped me! You know the one, you have no energy, so you don't go workout, but really if you would go workout, you would have more energy to workout.  It's like the worlds BIGGEST catch 22! So anyway..As of tonight I am now officially back on the wagon.  I went running for the 1st time in Sept.  Already I feel better. I always dread getting out there, but once I'm about a half mile in, I remember that I actually really do love to run, and then about mile 3, I remember that I actually HATE to run, but it's too late to stop! So here goes, here's to hoping this workout binge lasts for the rest of my life, or at least until my new "slimmer bod" pants aren't quite as tight....We shall see.....

Hey lucky you! It looks like I'm blog binging! :0) What shall I write about next?

Missy Rain!

Because 2 dogs, 1 cat, 2 kids, and full time insanity are not enough...Cameron got a horse almost a year ago. About the same I wrote my last blog post. :0)  I'm not going to lie, I am absolutely living vicariously though her on this one.

The story of Missy Rain. Missy lives behind our church. She was up for sell and able to stay in her current location. Since the only thing stopping us from getting a horse was location. I called my Daddy (no I have not grown out of that...Don't judge) and told him that there was no way he could deny his AMAZINGLY cute grand-daughter a horse! Okay okay that's not exactly how the conversation went, but it was something like that.  I also got my mom involved who is ALSO living vicariously though Cameron on this one, but only until they move to property with more land.

Missy is a great horse! She does wonderful with Cameron and although it was too hot this summer to ride we are so excited it's cooling down so we can get back in the Saddle.  Yes I said "WE", I absolutely love riding, it's the greatest feeling in the world, to be up high, on the most majestic animal on the planet. 

Here are a few pictures of our amazing Missy Rain (the Rain part was added by Colby who is convinced she is Rain from the Movie Spirit).

Obviously these pictures were taken before Cam's hair got cut off, but you get the idea!! WELCOME to the FAMILY Missy RAIN (a year later...sigh)!!

The Least of These....

37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ 40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

-Matthew 25:37-40

So it's only been forever since I blogged. It was my very lofty goal last year to start and keep up with this family blog. What was going on with the Guerra's and how everyone was doing. I managed to make it a whole year without blogging ONE TIME!! So this year I'm trying again. One blog a month that's my goal, but even if I never blog again this topic could not be overlooked.

It all started a few weeks ago with a seemingly benign email. Would Rob and I like to host 2 Children from the Children of the World Choir that was coming to our church to perform. We talked it over and decided sure. What else do we have to do? That one yes started a chain reaction of events that ultimately lead to the most eye opening weekend our family has ever had.

Meet Irene::: She is 10 years old and From Uganda. She loves to play soccer, dance and sing and when she grows up she wants to be a musician! I have never met anyone with such and infectious spirit. One look at that smile and it melts your heart. She is also a natural artist. She worked wonders with sidewalk chalk.

Meet Lideff:: She is also 10 years old and from the Philippines. She loves to dance and read poetry and wants to be a teacher when she grows up. She is beautiful inside and out. Her quiet spirit and gentle spirit is so refreshing. Let me tell you this girl is small but she can put away the seafood!!

These girls changed our home and our lives forever! It's amazing what 48 hours can do to change the way you see the world. Friday after picking them up we went to eat at CiCi's. Both girls asked for pizza and Cameron was quick to agree. Upon arriving the feeding frenzy began. I think the 3 girls were trying to see who could eat the most. I think collectively they put away at least 25 pieces! Our first reality check came from sweet Lideff.

Reality Check 1:: We are a VERY wasteful!

As Cameron gave her plate full of crust to the lady cleaning our table. Lideff sat there watching it, she was so confused, and maybe a little horrified. She finally looked at me and in the sweetest most perplexed voice asked

"why did she not eat that? Why is she sending her food away?"

I of course did not have a good answer for that question. My only answer was a weak and quiet, "I guess she doesn't like it". It was the first of many times that I would be faced with how spoiled I am as an American. We don't think twice about throwing out crust or a half eaten apple. Or cooking way too much just to throw it down the garbage disposal!

Reality Check 2:: Kids really Are starving in Africa!

Toward the end of the meal after mounds of pizza had been devoured, I could tell Irene was full and ready to stop eating. I didn't want her to be sick so I told her to stop. She looked at me like I was crazy. So I repeated myself. Her response....

"my friends are family are starving! They don't have food! I must eat what I get. I can not waist this."

So a good hour after meeting these 2 girls I realized that there REALLY are starving children ALL over the world. There are families that can not feed their babies and there are babies that go to bed hungry. Not only was that reality now very true, but I was looking into the eyes of a 10 year old who had lived it!

Reality Check 3:: My kids are brats!!

I say that in a loving manner. I don't have bad, undisciplined kids, or kids who walk all over us. I have American Kids. Kids who are perfectly okay with turning up their noses and refusing a meal, because they know another one will be offered in a few hours. I have kids who view their toys as necessities and their beds and rooms as entitlements. That will spend half an hour playing in the shower, because water freely flows from our pipes. Which brings me to my next reality check!

Reality Check 4:: Water is big deal!

All weekend when offered a beverage both girls requested water. I was ignorant enough the think it was because they didn't want to burden us with other drinks. It wasn't until Saturday night as I was trying to talk Irene into Lemonade that she explained...

"We love water, and drink it here because we don't have clean water at home. Clean water is a treat for me."

We later found out that these kids (before they were sponsored) walked up to 3 hours EACH WAY to get clean (well semi clean) water for their families! Missing out on a full day of school, and braving the harsh elements, just to have something to drink. Water flowing from the pipes is like Christmas Day for them and here in American we are refusing the tap! Did you know it only takes $15,000 to put a fresh water pump in a village! That pump provides a lifetime of clean water. F500 Companies in American could put in 6 or 7 fresh water pumps for the cost of one corporate event! REALLY???

I could go on and on and on! Reality check after reality check, but that wasn't all the weekend was about!! We had so much fun. We met our friends at the park, and played basketball and soccer, made sidewalk art, and laughed. I can't remember the last time Rob and I made time to do that with just our kids. WHY??

So the rest of this blog will just be pictures! Amazing pictures of lots of amazing kids. Kids from America, Kids from Uganda, Kids from Napal, Kids from the Philippians, but most importantly you will see kids who unlike most adults, didn't care about money, social class, or culture, they only care about being friends, loving each other and having fun!!

Welcome to Saturday Morning!! This is what we woke up to. The girls (and Colby) having an amazing time playing barbies.

This was all the kids at the park! What an amazing time! This doesn't do it justice really. We had 18 kids at the park. FUN!!

Sidewalk Chalk!

The Performance

Our New Extended Family! These girls will aways be apart of our home and our lives. For more pictures! A LOT more! Check out my FB page! They will be posted soon.

OUR GIRLS!!