Dear 2020,

Like King George, you thought you could rule us all.

You have dropped me to my knees again and again. I lost jobs, friends, and perhaps my mind.. . ?

Another 8 weeks of home-stay with no school and the Blizzard outside = Mom’s gone Mad lip sync contest.

Please, 2020 find your way out, you aren't welcome here anymore. Mike drop. Heidi out.

Happiest of Holidays!

                                     The Lamb Castle 2020                               

Eric, driving with his eyes closed.
Kids fighting in the backseat.
And Heidi joins the ranks of  "Mom's Gone Mad"

 

          Jeez Louise, things up here are normal. Ya.

  Normal is the word to describe 2020.

      We’re fine now, you betcha.

 

        The following Un-approved events occurred in

        Grand Forks, North Dakota Sometime in March- May

        during Heidi & Eric’s daily trail runs.

 

-Opening Tik-Tok account (the reason we know of said events)

-Dressing a faultless Marvelous cat in doll clothes

-Being attacked by the Marvelous cat (as deserved)

-Cheetos eating contests

-Mowing the lawn while on a hover board

-Raving dance parties (only 2 people attended)

-Miranda Sings moved into Ruby’s room (She is SO sassy, and resembles Ruby).

-Children jumping off of balcony

-Children launching Marvelous cat from balcony

 

            The perpetrators have been apprehended.

  The Marvelous cat unharmed. 

       AND we just started another lockdown!                

 

       So, Merriest of Holidays!  SKåL!

 

    Heidi, Eric, Elias & RubyCat

 It seems that I am brimming with tears a lot lately. Tears of joy, tears of pain, tears of emotion, tears of pure love.

I am striving for more patience. Patience with my children. Patience with myself.

Here is my Christmas wish list:

-To your enemy, give forgiveness

-To an opponent, give tolerance.

-To a friend, give your heart.

-To a customer, give service.

-To all, give charity.

-To every child, a good example

-To yourself, give respect.

Grateful

 Two weeks ago today- November 6th I burned my arm - A 3rd degree burn. I had just finished using a heat gun, I sat it aside continuing to work. My arm came in contact with the hot point and sizzled, it was about the size of a 50 cent piece. It went through the epidermis, the dermis, all the dermises. I got cold water and ice on it right away, and have been rebinding the wound multiple times daily.

The pain is slowly easing, the wound is getting smaller. My body is healing itself. What an amazing thing. And now I am so grateful for a functioning arm.

I am grateful for lessons that remind me to embrace life with gratitude for that is how I want to live my moments.

Life cards: Tower and the Chariot. And I am the Warrior.

Pain, wounds, death, towers crumbling- and my chariot rebuilding it all.

Tonight I came across this poem I wrote in the wake of my daughters death, another kind of pain that has taught me so much about how I want to live.

Suffering

Darkness

sinking in pain.

I must pass through this shadow to gain…

To gain peace

To gain light

All my love uncovering

I brave the dark times

To expose my soul to the suffering

Experiencing All there is

I gain depth and compassion

A cup full of heartache was only part my ration

For, before I could suffer

A pain of this weight

I had to know,

Something {that} great.

My heart is full

And I love to its depth

Consequently,

This means a deep and wide breadth

I have my memories

I honor my bestowment

I don’t need much more…

For I have THIS moment.

Nolite te Bastardes Carborundorum

Cat Entertainment

Ooo... What are holiday decorations?  They look fun.

 

Are they delicious?

Yuck, no.

They are nap worthy though, and bonus, I get photographed.
 

If you are interested in an adorable, (obviously very helpful), entertaining and 

super loving ball of fur contact: 

Journey Home Animal Rescue

No Shame for Introverting

I walk the lonely road.
Because I choose it.
I am an introvert.
I want to be an unapologetic introvert, but the truth is that I often guilt myself because I don't spend more time with people.  I really feel better and function better when I get the alone time that I need.

This guy knows me better than anyone, and he STILL loves me.  I am lucky, very lucky to know his love and support.

This photo is proof that I went to a public swimming pool in 2020.   May never happen again.

The, Feral and Wicked Intelligent, Airhead

I have ADHD, and I am pretty sure I have dyslexia (although, that has not been diagnosed).  Recently a dear friend whom I’ve known for many years referred to me as “feral and wicked intelligent”.  It is perhaps the most meaningful compliment I’ve ever received. 

The truth is,  I struggled with academics in elementary and jr high school.   Reading did not come easy to me-  I learned differently than my classmates and staying on task was challenging for me.  I needed more stimulation than sitting at a desk with books offered me.

I remember 8th grade science and the shame and embarrassment I held in my heart when Mrs. Johnson (who was a wonderful, kind teacher) engaged our class in “popcorn reading”. Popcorn reading was a game where students read from the text and then called on another person in class to read.  If you were called on to read and were not following along, you lost 2 points from your grade and the student who called on you gained 2 points on their grade.  

Does Heidi ever follow along? Do I even stay on task now?  That is a hard NO.  

But dammit, I tried.   I tried so hard to follow along in that 8th grade science textbook.  There were just SO many things that were more interesting and important to me than reading about mitochondria and triphosphates.   

Many of my peers were keen to my inability to follow along.  One classmate, who was somewhat competitive, had little regard for the shame and embarrassment  I felt when I was called on to read.  He seemed to receive great satisfaction when he got the chance to earn 2 points at my expense.  

And not only did not follow along, but I was a very poor reader.  It was utterly humiliating to me to read aloud in front of my peers.  I earned the name “airhead” among my classmates and to me that meant I lacked intelligence, and value.  It really hurt.  Even worse, it shaped the way I viewed myself and my self efficacy.  

I barely graduated from high school, and was lucky to get into our local state college- Idaho State University.  

College was different for me.  I got to choose classes I was interested in (for the most part).  There were powerpoints- creating a visual perception to go along with lectures.  I had lab work opportunities to test the theories I was learning in practical settings.  And perhaps the greatest difference was, I was driven and wanted to succeed.   After two years, I transferred to University of Idaho in Moscow and graduated with honors with a BS in psychology.  I applied to grad schools.  I studied Special Education  (BYU- Provo)  and moved to Kansas for a MS in Counseling (Kansas State University).  When I started my PhD, I was teaching full time and my partner Eric and I  adopted our son Elias.  After years of schooling, I made the decision to take time with my son.  Although disappointing in some ways, it was fulfilling in so many other ways.

I now teach at the University of Minnesota.   I work with teacher candidates on how to engage ALL students in meaningful ways.  Using multiple means of engagement, hands on activities, nature experiences, kinesthetics, verbal, audible, and visual ways to enhance learning in the classroom and beyond.

I love teaching.  I love my students.  And I am thankful for my {albeit painful} experiences that have shaped me into someone with empathy, desire, and courage to drive meaningful change.

Maybe I am not so different from  Jewell, Steven Spielberg, Cher, Whoppi Goldberg, Justin Timberlake, Michael Phelps, Keira Knightly and so many others with ADHD, Dyslexia and other challenges.

Family Night Utah Fun

 

Cousins Swim Partay

Texas and the Introvert

My Peeps went to Texas.   
I Love them.
And now I am alone.
Gloriously Alone!
After months of lock down,
with my favorite people as cell mates.

ALONE AT LAST, ALONE AT LAST,
THANK GOD ALMIGHTY.
I AM ALONE AT LAST.

George Floyd #ICan'tBreathe

Christmas 2013

Yesterday would have been my daughter’s 8th birthday.  She was born in Minnesota, the twin cities.  

Today George Floyd was murdered in her place of birth.   

Tomorrow marks one month since I was awakened at dawn by my neighbors chanting from their roof top “White Power”.

It's been a hell of a month.

Although my daughter died of natural causes,  the loss of a child is a pain I wish for no one.  

What does it feel like to be suffocated?  Air cut off,  begging for help, begging for release?  Pinned to the ground, handcuffed, with people standing around watching as you suffocate to DEATH? 

George Floyd is no longer alive to tell us.  And if he was alive. . .  who would listen? 

George Floyd and I are the same age,  would this same thing have happened to me if I spoke out against something I didn’t believe?   

We all know the answer to that.  

George Floyd got the death penalty because he was black. 

Racism is real.  He died because a white officer didn’t listen or respond to his repeated pleas for help, for air, for life.   Face your biases. 

BLACK LIVES MATTER.

#blacklivesmatter  #blm #Icantbreathe #georgefloyd

My Lizzy

I still wrap myself up in her baby blanket sometimes.

Seeking comfort?  Or her?  Probably both.

As I watch myself travel this road of existence, I see how my grief has been shaped and changed me over the years.  I miss her still.  6 years ago seems like another lifetime,  and yet as May approaches I feel raw again.  It is a difficult month.  The month of her death, her birth, also Mother’s day.  

I ran through the cemetery this morning with tears streaming down my cheeks.  It hits me at unexpected times.   I let the tears flow, I’ve learned not to hold back, but rather to release the pain.

Opening myself to feel things… to really feel things has been one of the healthiest life choices I’ve made.  Being with the pain is not easy.  For me, grief has been like being in the ocean.  At first, the waves crashed around me, I could barely find my way up for air before getting knocked down by the next wave.  Storms come and go.  But now most of the time waves lap around my feet.  Every once in a while a big wave rolls in and knocks me down.  

Eventually,  I rise again.

One of the greatest pains as time goes by is that my memories of her are fading.  It hurts to even write those words.  I never want to forget her smell, her smile, her soft skin.   So now when the big waves come and knock me down with pain, it is her I am feeling.  Feeling close to my baby again.   I am able to open that place in my heart of hearts that remembers her.  That place that feels deep and powerful emotion.  It is a beautiful place.  A beautiful, painful place.  She is there, and I need her.

Madison Elizabeth Castle 2012-2014

May I introduce Madison Elizabeth Castle.  This little soul changed me for the better, and I will never be the same.  I love you Lizzy.

"White Power" = Pain, Fear and Frustration

The pain is real.

Living in fear of your children's safety hurts.

The fact that this is alive in my country, my state, my city, my neighborhood is devastating and frustrating.  

This image of a group of men and one woman on a nearby rooftop chanting "White Power" was snapped at dawn April 26, 2020.

Tiger King Madness

Tiger King madness, poor little kittens

Narcissist warning, they should all be in prison

Murder and mayham, madness and more

These are a few of the things I abhor.

Animals in cages going insane

As with his partners, Joe’s inhumane

Can’t think beyond himself, and he doesn't care

I wonder how he likes his new prison lair

Doc Antel’s compound, is more of the same

Not really a Doctor, just likes the acclaim

Pits of dead tigers, now too big to hold 

And don’t get me started on his household

When I’m locked up

When I can’t leave 

When I’m at home confined

I simply reflect on humanities shame

And then it blows my mind

Hey all you cool cats, and little kittens

Don’t forget Carol, wishin her husband good riddance 

She made up a meal for the tigers to eat

She can drop the facade, she isn’t that sweet.

Then, Jeff Lowe appears another train wreck

Saves the zoo with an embezzled check

Domestic abuser, murder for hire

He is the man to put fuel on the fire

Meanwhile Joe’s in a presidential campaign

With fraudulent funding from all the cocaine

Maintaining he marriage by withholding meth

His self serving nature is the cause of death

In seclusion

When I can’t leave 

When I’m at home confined

I simply reflect on humanities shame

And then

it blows my mind

9 March 2000

 Heidi  2000

I write for Women.

I write for Victims.

I write to create understanding.

I write for change.

The first time my (ex) husband hurt me was a couple of weeks after we were married.   I was 20.  I don’t remember what angered him, nearly everything made him jealous and mad.  

After being shoved into a wall I sobbed,   “you hit me, I can’t believe you hit me”.    

  

My words only served to angered him more. He began beating the walls with his fists, 

“This is a hit.  This is what it looks like to hit something”,  he shouted 

Then showing me closely  his clenched, white knuckled fist  he shouted again

 “I didn’t HIT you”.  

Hours later,  after he calmed himself.  He softly told me that  he would never hit me.

That experience impacted my brain in a way that altered my thinking for many years.  Naive, 20 year old Heidi now believed that if there was no hitting involved then perhaps it wasn’t that bad.  Abuse means hitting.  I hadn’t been hit.  I looked at the walls torn up with holes,  the walls had been abused.  But I was just fine.  Heidi was just fine.

March 1997,  more than 2 years later and even more entrenched in his gaslighting,  a friend gifted me two lift tickets to Pebble Creek, a local ski resort.  I was ecstatic.  As a struggling college student it had been a few seasons since I hit the slopes.  I LOVED skiing.  

My partner, wasn’t a skier, but I invited him nonetheless.  His insecurity surfaced.  I don’t know if he was jealous of my opportunity or ability,  or perhaps just angry that he didn’t  ski.  

He didn’t want me to go and he was good at manipulating situations to get what he wanted.  I wanted so badly to take advantage of the ski passes. I was kind but firm.  I wasn’t letting him manipulate me into giving up a day of skiing.  

Then he lost control.  In his anger he began destroying things in our little apartment.  I was so frustrated at the damage he caused. It was not new.  It was a tool he often used to manipulate me.  And if it didn’t have the effect he wanted he upped the ante.   

This March day, he wrapped his hands around my head, one hand over each ear looking right into my face.  I saw his head pull back.

You know that kind of fear when your heart is pounding in your throat, you can’t swallow?  Tears were pouring down my cheeks.  The fear, I feel it again as I write.  

He launched his forehead into the bridge of my nose.  Blood began pouring out of my face as I sobbed.  My face hurt,  but worse were my feelings of humiliation, helplessness.  On the ground I lay bloody and sobbing.   I was defeated.

Still,  he had not hit me (no fists were involved)  therefore it was not abuse.   Or so I had come to believe.

Much happened over the next few years.  My beliefs, societal expectations, continued manipulation, fear, financial need kept me in the marriage.

March 9, 2000 was a remarkable day.  My independance day.  20 years ago today I freed myself.

So many synchronicities occurred that day and the days leading up to it.  People who supported me became aware of my situation, breakthroughs in counseling helped me see more clearly, I began placing confidence back into myself.  

Although I woke up that morning with no intention of leaving him, I came home from a day full of mind opening events that changed me somehow.

I walked into our little trailer on the outskirts of town as the sun was setting with its last rays of light shining through the windows.  I asked him, 

“Do you love me?”  

His answer was simple, yet so profound.

“You should know that by now”.

He had never been more right.  And then I knew.

I packed my things and left that night.  

I never returned.

Hockey! UND @ the Ralph

Last hurrah before lock down!  (And we didn't even know!)