And I flinched

There all types of abuse that people go through and there are definitely all kinds of flinching.  Poor Tim has to put up with me flinching, but not only does he put up with it, he is helping me heal a little at a time.  I'm not talking about the kind of flinching you're probably imagining in your head, I'm thinking about something less obvious to the outsider, but just as difficult to get over.

Recovering from emotional/verbal abuse is not as easy as it sounds and some days makes you feel a little more crazy than a lot sane.  There are times I literally have to tell me that "you're not crazy.  This is a normal reaction.  You will get past this.  And hey - you handled it better than last time!" I know for a fact that there are some of you out there reading this that are nodding your heads and saying to yourselves, "oh I do that too!"  But for those of you that don't understand, let me try to explain.

Everyone understands that when you are physically abused; struck, hit or kicked, that all it takes is for the person to raise their hand and the victim will shrink back, duck, cower or in other ways try to lessen the blow.  Emotional abuse is a little different.  When you get told you are stupid, fat, lazy, worthless, or deficient in any way the attacker can strike out at you that day, you learn other ways to lessen the blow.  Everyone reacts differently.  Some try to prove the attacker wrong by changing hairstyles, working out, learning more, putting on makeup, etc...  Others shrink into themselves and hide themselves more.  I was the latter.  And I tried to tell myself that I was okay with the way I was.  I tried to convince myself it was okay because I was "happy" with the way I was.  It didn't work.  And it grew into self loathing.

For many reasons.  One being that I would have hated the person I became as an adult.  When I was younger I was *cough* opinionated.  (Trying to be nice to my formal self here.)  I was an avid woman's right advocate and a feminist.  I believed in the strong female role model who put up with no crap.  I hated weak characters in books or movies and I could never imagine myself shrinking away into a corner.  And oh - I talked a good talk around my friends and family even as an adult. But I didn't live the life I portrayed.  I let myself get beaten down.  And it continued.

Sometimes I did stand up for myself, or tried.  But I got very good over the years at taking the blame for things I didn't do, half the time not even knowing what I supposedly did.  Apologizing for causing problems I didn't cause, saying sorry for being me, and doing anything I could to deflect name calling, verbal attacks and my personal favorite, the cold shoulder.  I got to the point where I begged them to talk to me, begged for forgiveness, but had they asked me what I did wrong?  I wouldn't have been able to give an answer.  I was a straight A student, an honors graduate from high school and university who became fully convinced I was an idiot and lucky that anyone cared enough to put up with me so I had better do everything I could to keep that person in my life or I would be forever alone.

And along came therapy.  And Frank.  I know that those of you who read my blog probably think that this Frank person sits on a pedestal somewhere with a glow around him and a scepter in his hand granting wishes.   He would get a great kick out of that image, don't tell him I wrote that.  But really, he was my savior.  And not in the way most people think of therapy.  It wasn't like I imagined it anyway.  A lot of the time we didn't even talk about my "problems".  We would talk about my teaching, my horses, my kids, and sometimes it would get deep and I would cry and he would ask me why I felt like a failure.  Why did I ask more of myself than others?  Why did I expect perfection?  He helped me see that I was doing an okay job.  In fact, I was downright good at some things.  And he helped me to see that being alone was better than being beaten down.

I have a lot to thank Frank for.  But I digress from the title of the blog.  I have even more to thank Tim for.  When I finally got up the courage and self worth to decide to be on my own, I vowed to never let myself get hurt or sucked into a destructive relationship again.  Which is a good thing.  But in vowing to protect myself, I also veered a little too far to the overprotective.  Not getting hurt meant not getting attached.  Not allowing anyone to get close.  Not putting up with any "crap".  And there was a lot of crap I worried about.  So Frank cautioned me against closing myself off.  And I looked at him skeptically, but along came Tim and well, you all know the rest of that story.

Except, I still flinch.  And poor Tim gets the brunt of it.  I try really hard not to and I get mad at myself for doing it, but I flinch.  If he's upset about anything, I assume it's my fault.  If he is tired and quiet, he must be mad at me and I sit and stew over what he could be possibly mad at me for.  And then I imagine things and worse "decide" on them.  Let me give you an example.

Tim comes home because from work.  Which for Tim is getting up at 4:00am to milk, doing his teaching gig, reffing some sport and then walking in the door anytime from 8-10 at night.  So say Tim gets home and he's quiet.  Say he brings in the mail and there is a delivery from Amazon (CURSE YOU AMAZON!)  And he says, "what'd ya get?"  And I say a book, or headphones, or a shirt or whatever.  And he doesn't say much and goes and sits down and is quiet. Because, you know, he's TIRED.  But my mind says, "he's mad that I bought something."  Now the old me would beg for forgiveness.  But remember, I'm not putting up with any crap ever again.  So I get defensive, and I tell myself I deserve what I buy for myself and God damn it, I'm not going to apologize. And I get quiet. And I go to the old tactics used against me and give him the cold shoulder.  Oh, I may be really diplomatic and offer him one chance, "Is everything okay?"  But even if he says, "Yeah, I'm just tired."   My little brain can't wrap around the fact that it might not actually be MY fault.

But Tim, is his ever patient self, always manage to talk through it and get to the other side. He puts up with my flinching (and this is just one example).  While I didn't "need" someone else to fix me, and I was ready to fix myself, I can't thank Tim enough for doing all he does to help me get past my old demons and move past my, well past.  He's my rock, my guide, my best friend and my husband.  Something he doesn't get nearly enough credit for.  And yes, he is my lobster. (Cue Friends theme music.)

*Published without proofreading because the kid is waiting on me.  Apologies for typos and grammatical errors.

Our Grandma Pokey

It was Wednesday morning when I got the bad news.  Grandma Pokey had passed away.   Grandma Pokey who had been the family leader and the matriarch of my ex husband's family had given up the battle with a mysterious blood infection and lifted up her angel wings to heaven.  I'm a firm believer in the rainbow bridge and joining with our four legged family friends across the bridge.  I know when Grandma Pokey crossed that bridge there were a host of feline friends that surrounded her and walked with her home.

Grandma Pokey was not only loved by her many many house cats, she took in and fed every stray in the neighborhood.  I remember the great joy she took and how she knew each of their personalities, no matter how wild and crazy they seemed to the rest of us.  One cat of hers will always stick in my memory.  I think for the first several years I thought it's name was Made Rite.  Turns out the mean bugger was lucky to be alive so she had named it Made It.  Now Grandma never made fun of me for thinking she named her cat after sloppy joe mix, but the rest of the family took great delight in my mistake.

Whenever we would talk about Shannon's Grandma Pokey everyone had to ask, why is her name Pokey?  You would think it had something to do with speed.  Not our Grandma Pokey.  She was anything but Pokey.  She was an extremely hard working, strong lady who got a lot of things done.   She was a nurse for years and made the best homemade salve that cured... well everything.   Every year she hosted Christmas and Easter, but not only did she make the food for her entire family to enjoy, complete with appetizers, she also sent everyone home with a box of mixed baked goods and hams, from breads to cookies, bars, you name it.  You never left Grandma's hungry and it lasted for the weeks to follow.  Libby and I were talking about all of our favorites that would be missed for the holidays to come.  Some that we will miss the most are her pistachio bread, her pea salad and gosh darn those amazing Rice Krispie bars with caramel inside.  And of course, Libby remembered her homemade mints.  She said those mints started her love of everything mint and she will never forget eating so many of them at Jordana's graduation that she almost made herself sick.  She was a little teary eyed wondering how she was going to have grandma's good mints at her graduation, but I told her we would be sure to make some together.  And hopefully grandma will give us a little guiding hand from heaven (because candy making is not my talent)!

No, the real story behind her nickname was that her little grandbabies couldn't pronounce Grandma Pankow and it came out sounding like Pokey.  So Pokey it was from then on out.  And that's the kind of fun sense of humor and kind hearted person she was.  None of the grandbabies or many great grandbabies ever had a problem saying Grandma Pokey.

As we drove to Postville today to remember her at her visitation with family, we passed the houses we would always go driving by to view the Christmas lights.  Every Christmas Eve Grandma would kick us all out after supper to go see the Christmas lights and somehow, through the miracle of Christmas, Santa always came to bring the presents while we were gone.  Grandma Pokey remembered everyone.  Everyone got a little present to open along with a card with cash.  And she always remembered you on every single holiday.  Not just your birthday.  Valentine's, Halloween, Mother's Day, there was always that card in the mail with the familiar handwriting on it and a dollar bill just for you inside.  My last card just came a few weeks ago.  Grandma wasn't able to come to my wedding, but she didn't forget me and Tim and I got a beautiful card, with the sweetest message, which I will treasure all the more for years to come.

I know some of you are sitting there and shaking your heads in wonder, asking yourself, wait - isn't this her EX'S grandma?   Yes.  Grandma Pokey is Shannon's mom's mom.  But you see, she was my Grandma Pokey too.  For 17+ years.  And even after the divorce, she treated me no differently.  If that doesn't give you an idea of the huge and loving heart she had, I don't know what will.  She made sure that I knew that I was always part of her family and I was so blessed to be included as one of "her" grandkids forever.  The hardest part of divorce was losing my other half of my family.  But that was dumb on my part.  If there is anything I learned today, it was that they are and always will be my family.  We have way too many stories, way too much history to ever not be family.  When the girls and I arrived at the wake we were greeted with open arms, hugs, and yes tears were to be had all the way around.    That is truly the way Grandma Pokey would have wanted it.  No hurt feelings, no anger or bitterness allowed.  There was no room for that at Grandma Pokey's house.  Family was family and family was forever.

So tomorrow we will all come together to lay Grandma Pokey to rest.  We will celebrate her life and share our stories.  We will remember the cats, the treats, the time she tried to "cancel Christmas" due to slippery roads (and I told her she didn't have that kind of power), the grandma kisses on the lips, the pictures she took and the articles she clipped that she thought we would all want to read.  We will talk about the squeaky cheese curds she always brought with, the dining room with it's one way path, the bird clock, the cat motion detector, and Grandma's love of country music.

Grandma Pokey was always thinking of others and most of the time she was thinking of her loved ones.  If anyone ever made you feel loved, special and wanted, it was Grandma Pokey.  You never had to wonder or guess.  Moving forward is going to be hard for all who loved her, but the most wonderful thing is that Grandma Pokey left behind a legacy of caring family members who will always be there for each other.  That is how we will all get through.

So Kathy, Blaine, Butch, Kenny, Jordana, Mandy, Josh, Corey, Lindsey, Shannon and all your significant others and little ones; hold tight to each other, hold tight to your memories and hold tight to what Grandma Pokey taught you about kindness, family and forgiveness.  That is how you will move forward and keep her alive in your hearts forever.

Obituary

I Saw a Dragonfly on My Wedding Day

On July 22, 2017 I married my best friend and finally got my fairytale beginning (I refuse to say ending because this is only the beginning of an amazing new adventure.)  Everything was completely perfect about the day, the week before and now as we move forward, everything is perfect still.  And yes, we understand there will be ups and downs, but we are so excited to face them all together.  That said, there was one little thing that bothered me in the days leading up to the wedding.  Okay, one kind of big thing.

I missed my mom.  Many of you know that my mom lost her battle with cancer 16 years ago.  She was not a perfect person, she drove me crazy some of the time (which is only fair as I drove her crazy a LOT of the time), but she was one of the kindest people I know.  And she was fun and devoted and hard working and so many other wonderful things that I don't have the space to even describe here.  She was a force to be reckoned with, despite being a tiny little lady.  She was the matriarch of our family and when mom told you to do something, you did it.  And you didn't complain.  She adored her grandbabies and doted on them.  She was so excited to get a granddaughter and in one of life's cruel twists, she only got to know Libby for a year before she was taken from us. I have missed my mom for 16 years through major life changes, sicknesses and injuries, grief, sadness and happy proud milestones for both of the girls.  There were times when they would be performing and I would think to myself that she would have been so proud of them both.  But I never missed her more than I did this week.

I have had so many wonderful women step into the roll of mother or grandmother for my girls and I.  I can't thank any and all of them enough.  The girls have their "grandma" Ann, Anne and Kevin Dykstra, Kathy who was a rock for me for so many years, my sister, my best friends, my new family and our amazing stepmom/grandma Sharon.  All have done so much for us and gone out of their way to make us part of their family or step into the mom/grandma role.  We couldn't thank you all more.  But I still miss my mom.

Tim caught me crying one day and all I could tell him was that I missed my mom.  I joked through the tears that we probably would have been driving each other crazy through the whole process, but I still wanted and needed her there.  He was super supportive and understanding, but it is definitely one of those things that there just isn't anything a person can do.  But I have to say that so many people stepped up to help make my mom a part of our day.  Amy, I can't thank you enough for the beautiful locket wrap that you gave me.  Thanks to you I was able to have a small piece of my mother's wedding dress close to me for the whole day.  Thank you to Alex Scrabeck for walking a beautiful portrait of my mom down the aisle so that she could be seated at our wedding in her place.  Thank you to Amy for printing the photo as well.  And thank you to Jill Miller for her ideas on how to incorporate the photo of my mom into our wedding portraits as well.  But I still missed my mom.

And then during our ceremony, I saw something out of the corner of my eye and turned to look and saw a dragonfly wing its way right by Tim and I and hung out up by us for a few minutes.  It was a beautiful dragonfly with a black body and vibrant black and blue wings.  I immediately teared up with happy tears, (and am tearing up again as I type this), because I knew at that moment my mom was with us.  A couple of months ago I wouldn't have even given it a second thought.  But Carter had just shared this photo with me a few weeks ago.

Something I never knew.  Never thought of.  And maybe didn't believe.  Until I saw that dragonfly.  Then I knew.  I knew my mom had hitched a ride on that dragonfly so she could be a part of my very special day.  I felt her with me and in my heart I felt comfort knowing that she not only was giving us her blessing, but I could feel her happiness and pride.  I know that she would love Tim and how happy he has made my girls and I.  I still miss my mom, but I am reminded that she is always with us and on our special days, she will literally move heaven and earth to be there with us.

I saw a dragonfly on my wedding day and I know that it carried a very special angel to visit me.

Off with the old, in with the new, or .... not...

So I made a Facebook post the other day about how I had a heck of a time getting the credit card people to spell my name correctly.  But guess what - the card came the next day with the correct name on it!  So thank you Capital One, I owe you a little bit of an apology.  But apparently Capital One was the least of my worries.

I knew there would be a lot of places where I would need to change my last name.  Being previously married, divorce and going back to my maiden name, I was not a newcomer to name changes.  I have also taken my fair share of ribbing.  I believe my school administrator told me he wasn't changing it ever again so I am stuck with Andring forever.  That's okay, I'll keep this one.  That said, I did not realize what a HUGE hassle some places would make changing your name.  Verizon and PayPal seem to have worked together to keep me in name limbo forever.

Three years ago when my divorce was finalized, I gleefully went about changing my last name everywhere that I possibly could. I was fairly successful until it came to Verizon.  They willingly, okay not so willingly, changed it on my billing.  Actually it came to the point where I told them that if the bill came with Onsager on it, I wasn't paying.  But my name still showed up as Onsager every time I called someone.  I tried a couple of times but no one on the Verizon end seemed to be able to help me and I got sick of sitting on hold.  So I left it.  And I just nod and grimace every time someone whispers it to me on the phone, "Did you know that your name still shows up as..."  Yes.  Yes I know and I give up.

Paypal also had an ironclad name change policy.  Which is wonderful considering they handle my money.  I'm thankful for that.  But multiple attempts to upload the documentation necessary (including the blood of my first born, fairy tears and the petals from the Himalayan rose),  never resulted in a name change on my account.  So every time I used Paypal to buy something I had to message the people and ask them to please send to Melissa Kiehne not Onsager.  Minor inconvenience, first world problems, right?  Except now it is Andring and it would have been an even larger process to try to get the name changed as I would have had documentation to change the name to Kiehne first, then documentation to change it to Andring and since I'm changing bank accounts anyway, just delete the old and and start over.  Right?

Hahahaha, you have to know it isn't that easy.  So I open the new Paypal account.  Easy peasy.  Try to add my credit card and I can't.  Why you ask?  Because it is linked to my old account.  No biggie, I'll just delete it from the old account.  Except every time I try to remove the card I get a "Sorry, can't do that, try again later" message.  Bummer.  I'll just link my new bank account.  Hmmmm..   three days later I get a "Houston we have a problem" email and try to go back in and do it again and get the "Sorry, can't do that, try again later" message.

Now, I'm not at the snap my laptop over my leg point yet.  I have other things to try.  Maybe I just need to verify my new account.  Then everything should go as planned.  So I go to verify my new account but guess what.  I can't.  Because... wait for it.... wait for it.... the name on my Verizon account doesn't match the name on my Paypal account.  OF COURSE NOT!  Verizon sucks and can't seem to figure out that divorce and marriage happens.  But I'm not a quitter.  I'm calling Verizon.  So after 25 minutes on the phone with Paypal help, who basically told me that Melissa Andring doesn't exist, I tell them I will try calling Verizon.  Mind you, the people at Paypal told me I don't exist in this world wide system for finding people that they spent big bucks on.  I asked the lady how that is possible when I have changed my name at the Post Office, the Social Security Office and my driver's license, oh and my one credit card, and the bank.  Apparently, "But I have a Facebook account in that name", doesn't work either.  In case you all wanted to know, Verizon has more pull on your identity than any of those.

So I call Gabby at Verizon.  Gabby is very nice.  Just another 25 minutes off of my life and Gabby fixes my name on all my accounts.  And somehow manages to accidentally change my address back to a house I had three houses ago.  Luckily I got a text while on the phone with Gabby about changing my address with Verizon and we got that fixed in no time.  She also talks me through the super simple process to change how my name will appear on caller ID right from my very own phone.  Yay!  Three and a half years later, my problem is finally solved!  Thank you Gabby!

Except, I tested it out and guess what.  Not fixed.  And Paypal still can't find me, so I can't verify my account.  So everyone.  I no longer exist.  Thank you.  This means I won't be getting any bills in the mail, right?  Non-existent people shouldn't have to pay bills.  Just saying.

I don't hold grudges..

Recently I was accused of holding grudges.  Now the person who accused me of this did not come up with it on their own.  I have a pretty good feeling they were fed that "she holds grudges" by one of the few people in my past that has used up their last second chance.  

Yes, you read that correct.  I give a lot of second chances.  Too many probably.  But when you've used them up, you have used them up.  It's called the "door slam" effect.  Once I've decided I'm done giving you another chance I simply shut the door and we are done.  

At first it really upset me when I heard that she thought I hold grudges.  It's something that I have worked very hard all my life not to do.  It's something that I worked on in therapy.  Not holding grudges.  In fact Frank almost laughed when I told him I was afraid of being bitter and holding grudges when he tried to convince me to stand up for myself and cut ties with people who were not treating me with respect.  It seems I have the reverse problem.  

You see, I don't hold grudges.  I give chances.  I give second chances.  I give second second chances.  And when people tell me that they have changed or that they will change, I believe them.  And then I get hurt.  Again.  And again.  And I set myself up for that hurt because I keep expecting people to hold up their end of the deal and actually, you know, change.  Some people just can't.  

So no- I don't hold grudges.  I have learned (and it took me a long time and a lot of coaching from Frank) to stand up for myself.  To stop expecting people who have hurt me, lied to me, hurt those I love or let us down, to change.  Stop expecting them to be someone they aren't.  I can accept them for who they are.  I can even be civil, polite and kind to them.  But I do not have to allow them to hurt me any more.  I don't have to allow them in my life.  And I absolutely don't have to feel guilty for shutting people out of my life who have no business being there.  

So here's my words of advice for the day.  Don't be bitter.  Don't become hard.  Give second chances.  But also, remember facts.  And when people prove to you who they really are, listen to your gut, make the right choice for your happiness and do not, I repeat, do not feel guilty about protecting yourself from being hurt.  You're a door, not a door mat.  You do not have to open yourself up to hurt any more.  

What makes my day?

Today has been a really good day, even though loads of things aren't going quite as planned.  To start with, I'm still not sleeping well at night.  Can't figure it out but my mind is really busy and I'm having a hard time falling asleep and staying asleep.  I woke up with the kind of headache where you can feel your pulse in your head.  Those are always fun.  So it probably wasn't the best idea to check "change last name on my credit card" off the to do list first thing.  The guy was super nice, but I'm not sure if English isn't his first language or if it was his first day and he was nervous or what.  Let's just say that I'm pretty sure the chances of my new card arriving with the correct spelling of ANDRING on it are pretty slim.  Multiple tries and I'm not sure we still arrived at the same destination.  Tim is off playing farmer all day, most of the kids are gone with their other parent and that leaves Libby and I home alone.

So of course we head to the barn to ride.  Heading to the barn is usually all it takes to put my day on the right track.  Today we were supposed to ride, then clip and wash horses for her senior portrait shoot tonight.  Her third attempt at a senior portrait shoot as the weather refuses to cooperate and we keep having to reschedule.  Now those of you who live near us and are reading this can tell the others what the weather is doing right now.  Yeah.  It's raining.  So we had to reschedule the shoot.  Again.  Tim joked that I'm trying to stall her being a senior and leaving us after graduation by not getting her pictures done.  Believe me, if I could control the weather.... let's just say, we wouldn't be having any snow days.  Ever.

Now a person would think that with all these things going wrong, I might be on the fast track to crabby.  But there is a special someone at the barn who has her way of cheering me up no matter what crap is going wrong in my day.  She's a big girl, but still kind of a baby.  So we tend to call her... you probably have guessed.. Baby China.  Some day she might get old enough where we just call her China.  But for some reason, Libby and I can't help talking baby talk and calling her Baby China.  Even though she is the tallest horse we own and 15.1 at just two years old, she's still the biggest "baby" on the place, but she is our baby.

What did the big bay filly do today that makes her so special?  Well...
1.  She rocked trail practice again today.  For example, at one point, she knocked into the pole that is the end of the "gate" and knocked it over.  Giant white pole lands on the ground by her feet.  Does she spook?  No.  She just looks at it.  Since I still had the rope in my hand, I hauled it back up and set it upright, banging it into her a few times on the way up.  She never moved and acted entirely bored with the entire situation.  That is one of the many reasons why I love her.
2.  She had a few strides of a really sweet lope and if finally figuring out where her legs should go.
3.  She wore an English saddle for the first time and I finally get to really feel that hunt seat horse under me.
4.  She let me clip her, including ears with no twitch whatsoever.

But none of those are why she made my day.  Let's back up to when we were first getting horses out.  Daryl had a visitor show up at the barn this morning and she brought with her, her granddaughter.  This  sweet little girl was probably around 7 - 9 years old and a real chatterbox.  Nothing shy about her and she had an obvious love for horses. First she chatted up Libby and helped her "brush" Coupe.  It was really adorable.  If Coupe had been made of glass he wouldn't have had a scratch on him as gently as she was helping brush.

Then I came in with China.  So she helped me "brush" China as well.  And China stood like a rock.  Not even stomping at flies like she usually would.  The little girl was in love and kept saying what a nice horse she was.  She was in awe that Libby and I were going to ride because she had never ridden on a horse before.  So of course, I had to ask her if she wanted to ride.  She was like "My mom would never let me, but my grandma might!  I'll ask her!"  And she bounced back in no time to say that she could go for a ride.

So picture this.  China is tall.  Little girl is short.  If you have little kids, you know how they get on tall horses.  We got her a step stool and she put one foot in the stirrup and pulled herself up the best she could.  Then she had both knees in the saddle and was wiggling around trying to figure out how to get one leg on each side and still hang onto the saddle horn.  Finally she plunked herself into the saddle and was ready to go.  China, at this point giving me the side eye, was not so sure that her rider was ready for a ride but walked off with me as slowly and carefully as she possibly could.

I can assure you that it was the slowest China has ever walked a lap around the indoor and then the outdoor in her short life.  Turtles may have beat us in a race.  But she was making sure she didn't lose that cargo on her back.  And the little rider never stopped talking.  I'm not sure she even took a breath.  She made sure Daryl and her grandma knew she was "really riding a horse" and she wanted to go through all the trail obstacles on the "obstacle course" while we were out there.

When we got back and she dismounted she asked me how often we were at the barn.  When I told her every day that it wasn't raining we tried to ride she told me that she was going to be at her grandma's all week!  And she couldn't wait to ask her grandma if they could come back every day so she could see the horses and go for a ride.

It probably doesn't seem like a big deal to a lot of people, but seeing the joy on that little girl's face absolutely made my day.  And I was so proud of China.  I know she's a good horse and she has learned a ton this year, but I have never been more proud of her than I was today.  Patience of a saint in her big body.  More than any ribbon or trophy on the shelf, putting smiles on the faces of little kids is the best gift she can give me.