Horse "rescue"

This subject has been a thorn in my side for almost as many years as I have been back in horses as an adult.  So… quite a few.  I’ll admit that I never really thought about it as a child.  I read a ton of horse books and had horses of my own but I had a very skewed view on end of life for horses.  I had this rosy view that all horses were loved by their owners, ridden or used however they saw fit and then when they couldn’t be ridden they probably passed away in their sleep under a sunny oak tree somewhere and were buried by their loving owners.  I never thought about chronically lame horses, sick horses, horses that were untrainable and/or unusable in any way.  

Since then, I’ve been on all sides and had experience on all ends of the spectrum.  I have rescued horses from bad situations, I have adopted horses from a rescue and I have sent horses to known kill buyers.  I’m sure it sounds like I am the most confused horse person on the planet, so let me explain how and where I am coming from and how my personal viewpoint has changed over the years.

When I first got back into horses as an adult, I started following horse rescues and seriously considered adopting.  As many of you know from reading my blog, I’m kind of a soft hearted sucker for a sob story.  And a lot of these horses have some real sob stories.  I followed several different rescues and ended up adopting 2 ponies, 2 horses and 2 donkeys from rescues.  Here’s my take on that situation: Both rescues had adoption contracts where they owned the animals for 5 years after adopting.  Adopters had to turn in yearly vet check forms, with photos, and prove that they had been getting the horse regularly visited by farriers.  If the rescue felt the horse wasn’t being taken care of properly, the equine could be repossessed.   The adopter agreed to never sell said horse.  

Sounds wonderful right?  It’s a fairy tale.  Most horse people live on a limited budget.  And I would guess that most horse people want to use their horses for their personal hobby of choice; riding, driving, whatever it may be.  What happens when that horse is no longer rideable and you can’t afford two horses?  What happens when that horse’s vet bills start creating a strain on the monthly family budget?  A person may consider selling, rehoming or putting the animal to sleep.  Not when you adopt.  Your only option is to return the equine to the rescue, IF they will take it back.  If not, you are required to keep it and provide for its care.  And if they do take it back, prepare for the barrage of hate mail from the people who can’t believe you are so cold and heartless as to want to RIDE your horse.  

I also watched the two rescues I interacted with soak their “followers” (as it truly is like a cult) out of thousands of dollars each year to feed their own personal horses.  People donated every spare dollar to hay drives and spring vet check drives and “we want an indoor” drives.  And all the while I was thinking, maybe I should get my 501c and see if people will build me an indoor arena too?  Or even just pay for the hay my horses eat all winter long?  It was like watching a sinking ship and people so blinded by doing the right thing that they couldn’t even do basic math.  I decided that the best thing for my family would be to return our adopted equines and wash our hands of rescues forever.  It was heartbreaking and unbelievably hard to drop them back off with the rescues that were overcrowded.  I watched as an older gelding I had adopted was one of many put down to “tick related illness”.  Seemed to be a real epidemic at that rescue.  Another older pony I had returned went from being 21 years old (according to the paperwork they gave me when I adopted him, blind and with cushings btw) to being 40 a couple years later when he was returned.  Of course, 40 sounded a lot better and they were able to soak a few more people for donations for his care.  His sob story was worth so much more at 40 then 23.  After watching these rescues for several years, I vowed to never be sucked in by a horse rescue or horse “rescue mentality” ever again.

And it is a definite mentality.  There is a large number of people that want to be seen as rescuers, heroes, saviors and they will go to great lengths to get that title and perpetuate it.  I do understand.  It feels great to take something that needs you and improve its life situation.  It was always so rewarding to take the ponies/horses that we took in get fatter, better feet, and some training. But I never claimed to be a rescue or thought of myself as a savior.  

The current way I see this happening, day after day is with a local sales barn’s “rescue page”.  The owner of the sale barn is a known kill buyer but came up with a much more profitable solution that sending those unwanted horses on the long truck to Canada or Mexico.  He posts select horses, donkeys and minis for sale in a “rescue” pen and offers them for sale.  Often times these horses have lameness issues, are partially blind or unknown training.  They do evaluate the horses to the best of their ability in a tiny pen and ride some of them before putting a description up on their website.  I don’t blame this gentleman at all.  He’s a smart businessman.  I just can’t believe how ridiculous some of the suckers are who fall for his scheme.  

He purchases these horses at rock bottom prices.  Horses no one at the auctions want for some reason or another.  He slaps a couple extra hundred on, puts a short description on a website and tells people they have until Friday or “OMG!” they will ship to slaughter.  And the bleeding hearts come out by the thousands.  Again, I don’t have a problem with it.  It’s your money, or is it?  You guessed it, lots of these people can’t afford the few hundred dollars it costs to “bail” out the horse.  So they ask for (and get) donations.  And people donate to shipping costs.  And people donate to quarantine costs - because most of these horses will leave the sales barn with some sort of sickness.    

Here’s what blows my mind:

1. If you need a donation for a horse that costs less than $1000 (and they all cost less than $1000), you shouldn’t be buying a horse.  That purchase price is just the TIP of the iceberg for you in the coming lifetime of owning a horse.
2. Most of these horses need expensive vet care.  I just bought a bottle of antibiotic to help our horses get over a little bug, it was not cheap.  A regular farrier call for a horse with zero issues is $30 - $40 a visit.  These horses need dewormer, feed, shoes, corrective work, etc…  That $500 bail fee is going to be a drop in the bucket for your new “rescued” horse.   Most of the people rescuing them don’t have a clue about that or even regular vet/farrier care.
   
3. Training.  A lot of these horses completely lack training and the people buying them have no clue how to go about training them.  Much less handle a horse that is pushy on the ground or not handled at all.  So they will hire a trainer down the road when the horse is feeling better.  In the meantime they will love and hug and pet their new horsie, if they can even get close to it, and turn it into a bigger raging monster than it already was.  This is evidenced by the number of posts from people on a sister Facebook page about “saved” horses.  

Here people like to share their stories.  Of course many of those stories, and I say stories because they are just that much fictional garbage, are that the horse must have been abused because it has a scar here or there and just looks at them with that certain scared and abused look in their eye. I tell you, some of these people have futures in reading minds because I have been around horses for well over 30 years and I’ve never seen “I’ve been abused but I know you’re here to save me and I can’t thank you enough” in my horse’s eyes.  I’ve seen scared eye, pissed off eye (which we lovingly refer to as “side eye”), “you’re bringing the food and I love you eye” and relaxed eye.  I must be doing it wrong.  

I love that people think because a horse is scared it must have been abused.  Sometimes horses are scared because, uhh… they don’t know people aren’t scary?  Like why isn’t that obvious.  Horses are flight animals, prey.  A clinician once put it this way, “horses in flight mode can go a quarter of a mile with no thought”.  Anyone who has ever been on a bolting, scared horse knows how true that is.  

We recently got in an unhandled 2 year old.  Unhandled, not abused.  And one day I was an idiot in her stall and she got me.  Struck me with her front foot on the back and calf when she was scared and felt threatened.  Did I pet her and soothe her and say, “it’s okay baby?”  No.  I whooped her ass.  Because I am boss mare and if you ever saw what a boss mare does when an uppity baby tries to establish dominance, you would know that our 2 year old got off, easy.  I didn’t use my teeth and I don’t have hooves.  There wasn’t a mark on her.  And she wasn’t more scared of humans after.  She was exactly the same EXCEPT she respected me and my space.  In fact the more we work with her, and that sometimes means she gets her butt or shoulder spanked, the better she gets.  No tiptoeing around her.  We treat her like a horse, the big strong animal that she is, and demand respect.  Which, if you know anything about horse psychology, makes her actually feel safer.  Horses don’t want to be in control.  They want you to be in control and be able to trust that you’ve got shit handled.  When you’re all lovey dovey and hugs and kisses, they know you can’t protect them from a barn cat much less a cougar so they have to take their own safety into their own hands.  That means spooking at shit and getting the hell away from anything scary.  So way to go making your horse think you’re a pansy and they have to protect themselves from that Walmart bag which is of course hiding a horse eating boogie monster.

Me, being me and not knowing when to keep my mouth shut, I felt the need to finally post about it on the Facebook page.  Last I looked over 220 folks either liked or loved what I had to say.  Of course one lady had to remind me that a horse can be your friend.   Umm… you lady, are part of the problem.  Partner yes, friend no.  Last time I tried to get China to sit down, watch a movie, drink wine and talk about our sex lives, it was a complete bust.  

4. For the love of PETE!  Most of these horses in the rescue pen are not going to scary old slaughter houses.  Slaughter houses do not want minis.  Or donkeys.  And especially not mini donkeys.  You also can not ship blind horses.  Or mares and foals.  Or heavily pregnant mares.  Or emaciated horses.  There are fines, steep ones, for that kind of crap.  Fines that make it so not worth it for a kill buyer.   Stop being a sucker.  You might as well brand a scarlet S on your forehead.  Kill buyers typically won’t even BUY these horses, unless they have an avenue to dump them.  So kudos to you for giving them one.  
   
5. If you are so worried about horses in these situations, get your ass to a local auction.  Horses like those in the pen go through EVERY single auction at every single auction house.  Get there, buy one from the seller and stop funneling more money into the pocket of the kill buyer you supposedly want to stop from taking horses to slaughter.  You’re doing it wrong.  Or better yet, buy one of these horses that Farmer John has been trying to sell on Facebook, Craigslist or Dreamhorse for the past year and no one would even click on his ad for the $500 yearling.  But once it goes in the rescue pen and “OMG it’s going to ship by Friday”, you’ll pay $625, plus quarantine, plus a hauler and a vet check.  

In conclusion, you are not rescuing a horse.  You are buying a horse.  If you are choosing to buy a horse, it is your responsibility to improve that horse’s chance of not ending up on a kill truck again.  I have a few friends who have used the pen to get in decent horses that need a little extra work.  They buy them, train them up and sell them.  They are doing it right.  Get that horse healthy, get it trained and do something with it.  Stop telling everyone you rescued a horse.  Stop telling everyone that your horse has been abused.  Stop treating your horse like it has been abused.  And you will be doing the right thing for you, the horse industry in general and the very horse you think you’re saving.

Books inspire me

Almost everyone at home teases me about my books.  My vast collection, the sheer overwhelming number I have to that haven’t been read.  The fact that I read books over again (Do people really just read good books once?).  The fact that when I am reading the house could literally start on fire and I wouldn’t notice.  The look I give people when constantly interrupted during my book.  You get the picture.  But for those of us who read, we will never understand how you don’t get it.  And we will try to explain it to you.  When you still don’t get it, we will be completely baffled and feel a little bit like there is something wrong with you.  But don’t worry.  We understand that the feeling is mutual.

There is a special connection that all book lovers have.  When you find someone else who reads you’re like, “oh there you are!”  When you find someone else who has read the same books as you and loved them, well, there just aren’t words.  It’s kind of like finding your long lost most bestest friend.  And if there isn’t squealing and “oh my God when this happened didn’t you just…”, you’re not doing it right.  

As many of you know, I read a lot of young adult and teen fiction to share with my students and because, *hangs head* I just really LIKE them.  I’m currently reading a book that I hope to read as a class next year.  It is an entirely different way of reading than reading for enjoyment.  For one reason, analyzing a book does take some of the fun out of it.  In a way I wish I had just read the book cover to cover once for my own enjoyment.  Instead I am going through the novel meticulously looking for vocabulary that may be troublesome, themes, how characters are developed, figurative language, setting, and connections that students can make.  I’m looking for those teachable moments and yes, I am writing in my book.  

I do enjoy marking up a book.  It’s one of my guilty pleasures (hey - I’ve got a blog about that I’m working on too).  I love to jot things down as they come to me, make notes in the margins and underline things.  I may never go back to that book and I know it decreases the value to others.  But it increases the value to me.  It makes the book mine.  It is almost like journaling as I read.  It is part of why I hate checking books out of the library (I feel a little bit like reading with a straightjacket on) and I hate digital copies as well.  I just want to be able to record my thoughts and feelings!  And this book is getting REALLY marked up.  

I’ve made some startling revelations as I’ve been reading this book so analytically.  One is that, while an author might use new vocabulary that students haven’t seen, they use the same vocabulary throughout the book.  Now that wasn’t brand new information per se.  But when I connected it myself as a “writer”, it made me question what vocabulary I use repeatedly.  For example, this particular author always uses the word “vex” to describe something annoying, “imperious” to describe someone snotty and “taxing” to describe something that wears on a person.  I wonder which synonyms I use for those same feelings.  Pretty sure it’s “pissed”, “bitchy” and “exhausting”, but I’d like to think I have more intelligent vocabulary in my arsenal.  Time to start breaking out the thesaurus. (Which reminds me of an episode of Friends everyone should watch.)

The other thing that really jumped out on me is how sometimes books make me stop in my tracks and just go, huh.  Wow.  In fact, I underlined a quote in the book I’m reading and wrote that exact word in the margin, “wow”.  

Here’s the quote, I made it into a meme.  

That’s a “wow” kind of quote, now isn’t it?  I have thought and heard similar things in relation to a person’s religious faith.  And I agree wholeheartedly.  But what if that quote, that thought, applies to so much more than just your faith is a greater power.  For me, it is love.  After everything I have gone through the past 20 years it would be very easy for me to not trust anyone ever again, to not trust in love, to not trust in the goodness of people.  But the fact that I did find someone I can trust, that a person is willing to open themselves up to trust again, makes that trust all the more powerful and special.  It is wondrous.  I see!  

Another quote from the book that struck a chord with me was a brilliant metaphor. “Each lie they told fell from their lips and scattered on the ground, tinkling and glittering like broken glass.”  I don’t think I’ve read a more perfect description of lies.  If only actual lies did the same, I would love if they were to break apart as soon as they were said.  In my mind’s eye I interpret this quote to mean that they knew they were being lied to and the lies were breaking as fast as they were said.  If only!  

The last quote that I’m going to share in my long and wordy blog is my personal favorite.  “Hope is those first tiny buds that form at the very end of winter.  How dry they look!  How dead!  And how cold they are in our fingers!  But not for long.  They grow big, then sticky, then swollen, and then the whole world is green.”  Another amazing metaphor that perfectly describes how hope really and truly is.  Hope is what keeps us all going and it starts out so small and weak, but it doesn’t take much cultivating for hope to grow into a beautiful and wonderful thing.

As I leave this blog, keep hoping!  Keep trusting!  Keep being honest!  And most of all, keep reading and being inspired.

Today is Libby's birthday!

Today is Libby’s birthday.  Yes, for those who have been paying attention, all three of us have birthdays in May.  Mine is on the 7th, 5 days later is Sophie’s on the 12th and 5 days after that is Libby’s on the 17th.  That is why my horse show number is 555 whenever I can get it.  Five for the month of 5 and for us being 5 days apart.  For the record, my dad and mom both have/had birthdays in May as well.  And we have added Taylin and Tim on the 1st and 3rd of June respectively, so this 5 week stretch is almost like Christmas all over again at our house.  

But as I was saying, today is Libby’s birthday. And not just any birthday, her golden birthday.  My little girl is not so little any more.  Well, she’s still little, she’s just not so young anymore.  (Sorry Libby - but 5’3” does not make you “big”.)  We will be facing a lot of milestones in this next 12 months that I don’t want to think about.  Her senior year, and all that that entails, is looming like a big dark thundercloud on the horizon.  She keeps looking at colleges that are way too far away, like 45 minutes!  And talking about senior pictures and graduation parties and…. *shudder*.  Let’s not talk about it.  Let’s talk about Libby memories instead!  

Libby loves to talk about how she was the perfect child and that the only distress she has ever caused me was when she was born.  She has half of that story right.  Her arrival was not exactly easy.  Two weeks late and almost 30 hours of labor later she finally decided to join the world.  But once she got here she was much loved by everyone.  She was the first granddaughter on my side and the first grandchild on her dad’s.  Let’s just say she couldn’t have been more loved and doted on.  

She was a pretty easy kiddo, but every little one has their moments.  A favorite story is when we were moving into a new house and she was playing quietly in her room.  As they say, never trust a kid playing quietly.  She came out of her room covered in marker stripes on every exposed inch of skin, including her face.  Even though I was appalled and demanded to know what she did, her response made us giggle and we couldn’t even be mad at her.  She proudly informed us in her little voice, “I’m a lion!”  

Once her sister arrived she was in love and such a great big sissy.  Sophie really didn’t have to talk as a baby because Libby was always giving her what she wanted, helping her learn to walk and playing with her.  That lasted pretty much until the time that her sister started beating her up and Libby was too nice to just let her have it back.  Finally I told Libby to stand up for herself.  I’ll never forget the time that I watched out the pictures window as they truly did sort it out on the front lawn.  They always had a little different understanding of each other after that incident, we will call it Cage Match (minus the cage) 2009(ish).  

She also scared the crap out of me as a toddler when she toddled up to me very blue in the face.  It took a strong clap on the back for her to cough up a large button she had found somewhere and decided to choke on.  Which brings up the other memory of her taking a digger and cutting her knee open on an exposed nail.  Oh and the time she fell off her pony and got a concussion because she was sneaking around without her helmet on.  Hmmm.. I guess people are right.  She is my clone in many many ways.  

As I’ve talked about perfectionism with Sophie, I have to mention it with Libby as well.  She has always been harder on herself than I could ever be and sets high standards for herself to achieve.  She is a dedicated student, who loves reading and writing almost as much as I do.  Last I heard she was even leaning towards writing as a possible career option.  But then we are talking about graduation and we aren’t going to talk about that here.  

Libby has always been like me in a lot of ways and one of those is that she’s a homebody and more comfortable with a few close friends than in a crowd of people.  It’s why I was so surprised when she decided to make the switch with her sister to DE this past school year.  Especially as it was her junior year.  But she did and she has had a very successful year.  I am super proud of how brave she has been and how she has adapted and used the move as a learning experience.

Libby has always been the horse nut.  She has shared my love of all things horses since she was old enough to start playing with Breyers.  Which, I would like to point out, she has a very large and ever growing collection of.  She has read every horse book that I have ever read and then some.  She has watched every horse movie I have ever seen, and then some.  She was also a perfectionist when it came to her horses.  I remember her being a giant sponge who soaked up every bit of information about horses she could get.  This led her to spend a lot more time hanging out with the adults and talking collection, headset, disposition and pedigree than playing in the dirt with the other little kids.  Libby has always been by little adult.  She’s been old before her time.  And now that she is almost a “real” adult, it is going to be impossible for me to let her go.  

Libby, you have grown into an incredible amazing young woman who I couldn’t be more proud of.  Happy golden birthday!  Love you forever.  

And the signs say...

I have to say, I’m not a believer in the zodiac.  I could never be one of those people that checks their horoscope every day and uses it to guide their paths.  But a random compatibility meme for Zodiac signs showed up in my Pinterest feed and of course I read it.  I started to get a giggle out of quite a bit of what the Zodiac memes had to say about matching a Taurus (me) with a Gemini (Tim). Let me share...

It's funny how a person wants it to really represent them. As I'm reading this I am thinking about how I like to stay home and am kind of a homebody while Tim loves to do things and be busy. But... really, most of the time both of us are quite content to hang out at home, play a board game or just catch a show on TV. I don't think "restless" would exactly describe Tim.

So of course this got me started reading and checking out other memes that deal with the Zodiac. Most specifically Taurus and Gemini. I kind of get the impression that they do a pretty good job of matching everyone who falls into the birthday range of any sign.

Let's see what they have to say about a Taurus (me).

No way, who me?  I have to admit that I have THE hardest time delegating.  I usually have an idea in my head of how something is supposed to go, look, be and gosh darn it if others can't seem to read my mind.  So I'll just do it myself.  

Hmmm...  how can this be so right?  Does anyone else look at these things and think they sound exactly like them.  I know and have taken the tests to discover my personality type.  I expect everything I read on an INFJ to sound like me.  I do not expect some random star gazing hocus pocus to resemble me.

Stubborn! Who you calling stubborn? Not me? I don't think of myself as hung up on myself. But then I guess most people who are hung up on themselves probably don't recognize and acknowledge that fact so... I'm going to go with ... not me!

Okay -so the phrase "wifey material" is like nails on a chalkboard to me. What makes someone "wifey material". If you say, is maternal, takes care of you and cooks I will lose my shit.

Happy birthday Sophie

Today is Sophie’s birthday.  As I pulled pictures out of ancient folders on my Facebook, it brought back a lot of memories of Sophie growing up.  She has always kept me wondering, “what will Sophie do next?”  

Since the beginning, Sophie has liked to challenge me. She was a colicky baby who cried pretty much her entire first six months.  I remember sitters and family members watching her for me and calling to say that she just wouldn’t stop crying.  Yep, I know - welcome to Sophie.  If you have ever seen those shows with zombies, you have a pretty good idea of what I looked like during that time.  The little sleep I did get was under her swing or next to her swing when she would catch a short nap.  It wasn’t until we discovered that she had acid reflux and got her treatment that she finally started smiling and acting like the bubbly little baby that had been hiding inside.  

Sophie has and will always be independent and stubborn.  I remember when she was probably about 2 - 3 years old.  We were moving rocks from one end of the farm to the other via the wheelbarrow.  Libby was supposed to be helping me carry the rocks to the wheelbarrow but was whining that they were too heavy.  That is until her sister still in diapers toddled by and threw one twice as big as the rock in her hands into the wheelbarrow.  Which brings me to the next memory just a few short years later.  We were hauling wood in and the girls were helping.  Libby went to walk around the trailer and banged her knee on the trailer hitch.  She was crying and being pathetic until her sister walked up to her and with hands on hips asked her, “Are you going to cowgirl up or just lay there and bleed?”  Sophie does have a way of inspiring her older sister.  Sometimes to violence, but more often than not - to work harder.

Watching them horse show together was always a challenge.  I was always so thankful that the Lord gifted Libby with patience, but sometimes it was even more than Libby could bear.  There was always competition and often Libby was on the young or unbroke ponies, while Sophie got the “better” ponies.  Sophie never hesitated to rub it in and Libby never failed to remind me that it wasn’t fair.  It also wasn’t fair that Sophie had so much raw natural talent, hated practicing yet still did well.  I guess that was our first lesson in Sophie’s athleticism and where that would take her in the years to come.  Horse shows with Sophie were a lot of “I know!”, “I’m never doing showmanship again!” and a whole lot of wondering who Sophie had run off to play with.  But that is one of my favorite things about Sophie, she is my little social butterfly.  

Sophie loved living on the farm.  She doted on her kittens and loved every one of them to pieces.  She always took it so personally when one of them wouldn’t make it.  She also was dedicated to her chickens, you’ve heard me discuss before her buff orpington, Sparkle.  That poor chicken suffered a lot of handling as it was often carted around under her arm like a much beloved purse.  She loved the ponies, the goats and the puppies.  I remember the laughs as we watched her try to train our border collie to do showmanship.  Wiley always gave every pattern his all, just to make Sophie happy.  She sure came along way with her horses from the time she sat on Chic in the arena.  I had plopped her up on my big black horse and told her to stay there and not let her move.  Behind my back, as I moved poles around, Chic slowly edged her way over to the side of the arena to eat grass.  The whole time Sophie was pleading with her to “whoa”.  I led her back to the middle of the arena, tightened the reins, giving them to Sophie and telling her that this time she should tell Chic to whoa and mean it.  I turned my back but turned around in time to see Chic take a step and Sophie pull back on the reins saying, “Whoa! Mean it!  Whoa!  Mean it!”  That kid can follow directions I guess.  

Sophie’s stories ended up being kind of notorious.  My students knew that if they worked hard and behaved they might be rewarded with a “Sophie story”.  Her stories never failed to disappoint.  I was looking for old pictures of Sophie to share here today and stumbled across this short story of her day.  

The other day Sophie came home from school with a fat lip. I asked her what happened and she said she fell off the monkey bars.  I was sympathetic, “Oh no, honey - that’s terrible.”  In true Sophie fashion, her response was, “I was the one that let go, that was a stupid thing to do.”

Sophie is so good with kids.  They literally flock to her and I think Soph likes having a group of little people who do what she says and don’t argue with her or hold it against her.  Whatever the case, it works for all of them.  She has a following of little boys and girls that can’t wait for the next time they get to hang out with Sophie.  

A lot of people recognize Sophie as an athlete.  She excels at everything she tries.  It’s really kind of sickening, sorry Soph - but come on!  She went out for volleyball for the first time in sixth grade and worried that she would be behind her teammates.  Not so. She caught on to volleyball quickly.  She tried a new position in softball and became one of the better pitchers on the team.  She went out for track this year to try something new and is pole vaulting at the varsity level.  She is currently practicing and competing in softball, volleyball and track but also plays basketball in the winter.  it makes for a lot of running around and driving, but we always get to say, “I love watching you play.”

So many Sophie stories and not nearly enough room or time here to share them all.  She’s grown into such a strong young lady.  I am so proud of her strength. I am proud how she gives everything in her all and works so hard to achieve her goals.  She may have also inherited a little bit of perfectionism and that does make it a challenge sometimes.  But there is nothing wrong with pushing yourself to be the best you can be and I never have to worry about Sophie giving everything her all.  (Except for maybe the laundry, I think she maybe skimps a little on that…)

There will come a day when Sophie will be the CEO of some major corporation, or a doctor, maybe a lawyer or even the next president of the United States.  Until then I have to remind myself that independence, stubbornness and her ability to argue about EVERYTHING can somehow be viewed as positive traits.  Some day these skills are going to come in handy and I will be so glad that she has them.  I’ll just keep repeating that to myself for the next 6 years while we share the same roof.  

Happy birthday monkey butt.  I am so proud of you and will always love you to the moon and back.  

It's Easy!

Picture this.  You’re trying to understand something that you just can’t get.  You can kind of see where you might be able to get it, and you’re really straining to see, but it’s just sliding out of your grasp.  And then someone says, “come on, it’s easy.”  Suddenly everything is clearer and you finally get it.  You just needed someone else to tell you it was easy and it all comes crisply into focus!

What?  Doesn’t that scenario happen for you all the time?  Isn’t that how it goes when someone tells you “it’s easy”?  I mean, that’s totally how it goes for me.  NOT! (In my best 1980’s fluorescent colored teen rage voice.)  

There is truly nothing more frustrating or annoying than someone who sees you struggling, telling you it is easy.  It doesn’t matter what the concept is.  Maybe you’re learning a new game.  Maybe you’re learning a new jump shot, football play, concept in math, runner’s stance, you name it.  If you’re struggling and frustrated and someone who has mastered the task tells you that it is easy, suddenly nothing is easy.  

I’ve watched it happen with students over the years.  We will be working on something as a class or in a group and there is always that student (or sometimes a few students) who get impatient and declare, “this is easy!” for those that are still struggling.  I always observe the same thing happening to my students that I have felt myself.  Anger, frustration, shame, did I mention anger?  My first step is always to diffuse the situation.  Remind the students that what is easy to some people, isn’t always easy for everyone.  Everyone has their own background knowledge, talents and skill set to pull from when they approach a situation where they are not an expert.  For some, that background helps them grasp the concept quickly.  For others, that lack of background makes the task all that more challenging.  Then I ask them if saying that it is easy for them helps the situation or hurts it?  And lastly, I remind them that there are times that tasks aren’t easy for them, how do they feel in those situations?

I’m reminded of this when I help new people with horses.  So much of what we do seems like common knowledge to me.  Tying a halter, putting a safety knot in a lead rope, saddling and bridling; I don’t even think about those things any more.  It’s like I go on autopilot and I can be focusing on a task 3 steps down the road instead of worrying about the more mundane things I do several times a day.  So when I have to help someone do these things for the first, second, third or fourth time, I find it odd that I have to show them several times.  There is that temptation to say, “come on, this is easy!”  But I remind myself, that it is “easy” to me because of my background knowledge and skill set and years of practice.  Others find different tasks “easy” that I will struggle with.  

The other night, Tim, Tay and Carter were trying to teach me how to play a new card game.  I wasn’t grasping the many “piles” that a person could play off of, have in front of them, discard on, needed to get rid of and all the cards that were in your hand.  I asked a couple questions and I could feel my anxiety rising as I was told, “It’s easy. We will just play, you’ll get it.” and for good measure, a couple more “It really is easy” were thrown in there for good luck.  Turns out that hearing that something that was difficult for me was supposedly “easy” had the opposite effect of inspiring me.  It caused me to shut down and quit trying completely.  I turned my cards in and sat out the game.  After watching almost an entire game I had the hang of it, but the sad part is that I first had to struggle through anxiety, defensiveness, anger and wanting to just give up.  

I think what people don’t understand when they tell you that something is easy, is that in our human minds we don’t hear that they are telling us that the task isn’t as difficult as we are making it out to be.   What we hear them telling us is that they are smarter than us, it’s not difficult so we must be dumb, everyone else gets it but us, and why must we hold everyone else back with our stupidity.  In our logical minds, we know that people aren’t really saying that.  But through our hearts and brains fogged with anxiety and anger, we don’t always hear people’s good intentions.  

So, what’s the lesson to be learned hear?  The phrase “it’s easy” needs to go in the dumpster.  For the record, that can be the same dumpster that you throw “whatever”, “fine” and “bae" in.  And while you’re at it, toss away “must be nice”.  I have a blog on that one waiting to come too.  But quite possibly that is self explanatory.  

Attack the concept of happiness

This quote, really long and wordy quote, showed up in my Pinterest feed this morning.  First of all, I’m impressed that I actually read it because it is long and wordy.  And I tend to skip over those that look like they are too much work.  I’m much better at the short and sweet jokes and quotes.  But that first line, “I actually attack the concept of happiness”, jumped out at me and sucked me in.  I kept reading and I was hooked.

Okay - so this is the point where I give all of you the opportunity to go back and actually READ the entire graphic. Because I know that some of you skimmed it like I did.  This time go back and read.  I have read and reread it trying to figure out how I feel about the message.  Do I agree with what it says?  Do I understand what it says?  What am I having for lunch?  (Sometimes I have a really short attention span.)  Isn’t happiness supposed to be the goal?  

With all the attention the latest TV series, “13 Reasons Why” is getting, happiness is on the forefront of a lot of people’s thoughts these days.  If you live under a rock and haven’t heard of it, “13 Reasons Why” is a book and a TV series about a girl who sends a box of the 13 reasons why she committed suicide to a friend.  It has stirred up a lot of controversy as it is popular amongst teens, an age group already susceptible to suicide and making poor, rash, irreversible decisions.  Some people believe that it is opening up conversations that are necessary between parents and their teens.  Others feel it is putting ideas into teens heads and glorifying suicide.  I have to admit that I have purchased the book and put the TV series in my Netflix list, but haven’t viewed either yet.  But I do feel it ties into this quote.

This quote really got me thinking about how much we stress that happiness is what we should all be striving for each day.  I’ve said and thought the same thing for some time.  But the line that really stood out to me was the part about sadness, disappointment, frustration and failure all being normal parts of daily life and actually, being the part that helps us grow the most.  There is so much truth to that, it nearly stops a person in their tracks.  

I preach to my students all the time that failure is okay, it’s not a big deal to fail at something or struggle with something.  But as soon as things get tough for me I start trying to figure out how to make it better and how to “fix it”.  I need to practice what I preach.  Embrace the tough times for the lessons they teach me and accept the bad times instead of trying to race through to the other side.  That’s where the learning happens and where the wholeness of being real comes from.  

I tend to feel guilty if I’m having a “bad” day.  If I think about the things in my life that aren’t going the way I want, or if I get a flash of anger, a feeling of frustration.  But isn’t it those moments where we learn what we need to work on in our lives.  Isn’t it normal to get a little angry, get a little sad, get a little frustrated.  We shouldn’t feel that guilt.  Feeling things, really feeling all of the emotions, that is wholeness.  That is being human.  And haven’t we all learned that the “bad” days make the good ones all the more sweet?

I guess that one little quote box was kind of a wake up call for me this morning and one I felt worth sharing.  Something to think about anyway.

Me as a Wife

So... I'm surfing through Pinterest today and this one pops out at me.  It makes me giggle because I may do this.  A lot.  In fact, someone may have been whining at the last family gathering because I kept stealing all the fresh pineapple off of his plate.  I mean, c'mon - if he really loved me, he'd let me eat his pineapple.  Am I right? 

I know I've shared this one before.  I'll probably share it again.  But it is so perfect and so funny.  I try really hard not to wake up Tim because I've never met someone who works as hard or as many hours as he does.  He deserves his sleep, but sometimes I have really important news to share.  Like...

I am can assure you that Tim has heard this exact or very similar thing as I have pulled out my little vacuum to suck up critters.  We have yet to have ants.  But if I never see another boxelder bug, asian beetle or spider again, I think I could die happy.

I've been really good.  Honest I have been.  But I never stop looking online.  It's a good thing I don't know any stop and shop animal shelters. Or this could be me.  

Well, this is pretty related so... yeah. 

So I'm kind of upset with myself for not planning this ahead.  This would have been the perfect birthday/anniversary date to share.  But noooo... I didn't even think of it!

Now the next few memes have a similar theme.  And again - I know I've shared a few of these before.  But well, they are just too perfect not to describe what poor Tim regularly goes through. I'd say he's a saint, but I believe I have used the term unicorn and that probably fits him better.  I am a food motivated person.  

I know you're probably all feeling pretty sorry for Tim right about now.  But I'm not all bad.  I do love him with my whole heart and his happiness is always one of my top priorities.  We compliment each other pretty well.  He keeps me from owning 32 adopted dogs, I keep him supplied with food and baked goods and we both fall asleep by 8:30.  You could say we are a match made in heaven.