Category: As A Woman

September Is Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn As A WomanLeave a comment

Normally I’m not big into the ribbons for awareness, but I also don’t feel super comfortable sharing difficult things, so I’m not going to be putting decals on my car.  I think knowledge and awareness are absolutely crucial to getting more cures and more people involved in helping each other, but I’m pretty selective about what I share, and I think it’s better that way.  Like, I don’t like telling people I have Celiac because I don’t like going through the questions…with everybody.

Yes, I can eat potatoes. No I can’t eat one bite of pizza, even if it only has “just a little flour.”  I’m not going to feel sick and “pay for it” afterward: I’m not going to breathe afterward.  And I’ve found that that makes people feel uncomfortable, so I prefer to not talk about it; in general.  I mean, if it comes up it’s not that I avoid admitting it…but in general, it isn’t something I talk about.

Same with epilepsy.

And SVT.

I don’t appreciate snarky comments, I don’t like backhanded comments, and I don’t tolerate jerks very well; and it seems some people just can’t resist being a jerk about this kind of stuff.  I’m also quite adverse to pity (“ohh, you poor thing.“)  Sooo, I just try to avoid situations where my eyebrows may raise and well calculated words may come out of mine mouth.  I think it’s best for humanity and such.

 

This all being said, I was quite surprised this morning to see a ribbon that I am firmly in favor of sharing:

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The reason why it interested me is because ovarian cancer looms on my horizon.

My father’s sister died of ovarian cancer, and my mother’s mother died of ovarian cancer. That covers my lineage for both sides.

They both lived for about a year and a half of agonizing chemotherapy and constant physical and mental torment after the diagnosis before succumbing to it entirely, and it was agonizing to watch.  There was nothing we could to do help them, and they were going to die…and they did die.

So, I keep an eye on things.  Because I want to live, just as they wanted to live. I want to see my children grow up and raise their children.  I want to live a long life with Ben.

Ultimately, there isn’t a magic wand to protect ourselves from anything…diseases happen, accidents happen and death happens.

Ultimately, I don’t know if there is anything we can do for this.  There was nothing I could do for my family.

But damn it, we have to try.

 

Why Teal

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Ovarian.org

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Choose Hope

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Ovarian Cancer.org

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Facebook Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month

 

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The Last 4 Months of 2014…Go!

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn As A Woman, Uncategorized2 Comments

As of today, we are in the final homestretch of 2014….WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?!!

20121118133643!Applejack_panic_S3E2images-1RainbowDash_PanickedWe are big pony fans over here. 

Seriously, it feels like the year just begun, and it’s already the last quarter!

Get out your bucket lists people.  2014 is going to be remembered for being AWESOME.  We are DOING this:

1. I am going to lose 5 pounds a month until the end of the year.

Yes, I realize how heartbreakingly cliche this is.  But I know I can do it, and it is a realistic goal.  Dude, if you just cut out carbs, you lose weight.  I know this.  I just have to do it.  That’s the hard part.  But I really, sincerely want to get to a healthier weight.  The older I get, the harder it is going to be.  Plus, my Dad is beating me and he is very close to weighing less than I do….and this is not going to happen.  So, that’s my motivation, and I have you all to witness my dedication.  I say: 20 pounds by Christmas.

 

60eSuck it up, Rainbow Dash!!

 

2. I am going to finish projects I always think about, so they don’t become 2015 projects

-bench and vertical garden in my backyard

-move the chicken coops so they’re connected

-get a new Free Little Library cabinet, with doors (prep for the rain season, if it ever comes)

-My kids’ name-applique` banners (I already have 2 done, I just need to finish the other 3)

 

3. Ben gave me 4 frames for my watercolor paintings…and the paper, paints, brushes have been sitting next to my desk for 2 years.

It’s pathetic.

I am painting them and putting them up. I already know what I need to do.

 

4. Start the process of freelancing writing.

This is a goal of mine, and I need to get the wheels turning a little faster.

 

5. Finish Christmas shopping by Thanksgiving.

This is my goal every year, and although I totally do it…I also have to keep a list of what I got handy.  Because I may forget what I got people by Christmas.  So, it’s kind of a surprise to us all…

But this opens up the entire holiday season for important matters, like cider by the fire with the kids, or handmade ornaments, or finding new ways to enjoy squash.  Like, put it on the counter for decorations (or you could always eat it, but that’s too easy).

 

So, 2014: You have been warned!

Book Reading and Avoiding Laundry For Dummies: 101

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn As A Woman, UncategorizedLeave a comment

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I’m sure I am not the only one who starts a few books at a time…doesn’t your mind get tired of reading just one book?  Wouldn’t you rather be bombarded with the inner workings of a few authors, and enjoy the juxtaposition of worlds, finding common themes between them and further relating to the layers and layers of your onion mind? I love this unraveling of layers, slowly exposing and rebuilding myself with every turn of the page.  It is truly delightful.

Like a girl in every port, I have a book in every room.  

 

So here are the few ports I’m visiting now:

 

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The Ragamuffin Gospel: Good News for the Bedraggled, Beat-Up, and Burnt Out  

                “Jesus says the kingdom of His Father is not a subdivision for the self-righteous nor for                   those who feel they possess the state secret of salvation.  The kingdom is not an                               exclusive, well-trimmed suburb with snobbish rules about who can live there.  No, it                       is for a larger, homelier, less self-conscious caste of people who understand they are                     sinners because they have experienced the yaw and pitch of moral struggle.”

I got this book around 10 years ago, and I flipped through it then; but I never finished it.  At the time I was deeply immersed with Donald Miller‘s writing, and that was where I was at spiritually during the time.

Right now, I’m definitely in a growth period…but not in a “Joyce Meyer” devotional kind of growth.  This is a much more “Rich Mullins,” and “Brennan Manning” growth.  This is when I am sitting in a garden with barefeet, digging my toes in the dirt and picking grass with my green, stained fingers, having a quiet discussion with God and trying to figure things out, kind of growth. My body is rejecting cliche phrases, and locking in on things that I can chew on:

                  “When I get honest, I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes.  I believe and I doubt, I hope                       and get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty                               about not feeling guilty.  I am trusting and suspicious.  I am honest and I still play                           games.  Aristotle said I am a rational animal: I say I am an angel with an incredible                       capacity for beer.”

I wish I could thank Brennan for writing this, but unfortunately his time here has passed.  I am so grateful he took the time to scribble the painful throes we wrestle with in our lives, though.  It can be hard to find reality when you are living in a well-irrigated desert, and the illusion of green grass lays on top of the barren ground underneath.  Sometimes it’s nice to help someone pull the sod up, and finally appreciate the beauty of life in the desert, however small or prickly it may be.

 

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Finding God in the Bible: What Crazy Prophets, Fickle Followers and Dangerous Outlaws Reveal about Friendship with God

This is another book that speaks from a different perspective…the perspective of the creative artist.

Artists have it bad, because we see everything from a different angle.  We get distracted on Sundays because of the way the light is shining on the curtains.  We find it interesting how the Pastor uses different words than we do, and spend time writing down these different words on index cards during the sermon, rather than listening to the sermon.  Artists are going to argue and fight and roll their eyes over really basic things: like the use of the color beige.

So to throw theology at them is like throwing paint onto oil.  You might get some of it to stick, but it’s still going to be just colorful oil in the end.

You might be able to change the color of the walls in a church, but you aren’t going to be able to change the color of an artist.  They’re stubborn, and they’re opinionated…and most of the time they’re repressing the daylights out of the nonsense that is engrossing their mental energy.

I have thoroughly enjoyed this book because it is a relief to read someone with the same ridiculous ideas interwoven with thought-provoking theology:

    “Ever since I was a little boy, I’ve wondered what God looks like.  At first I figured He was just     like a puff of smoke, since He was a “spirit” and didn’t have flesh and blood like me, but               then I remembered reading in Genesis that He decided to make man in His “image,”                       whatever that meant…Maybe it’s just my odd mind at work, but if, by some chance, we               aren’t the only ones He created, and out there in the vastness of the universe is another life      form, another planet and another people He is trying to have relationship with, would He         have created them in His image as well, or would He have thought about throwing a curve       ball, spicing things up a bit?  These are the things I ponder, and they are probably the                   stupidest things I could spend my time pondering.”

And that is why I am reading this book.

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Well, the kids are reading this for a Literature class, so naturally I have to read it with them.

Naturally.

The funny thing is, since I haven’t read it in so long, I had forgotten how very long Austen’s sentences are.

So very, very long.

The sentences Austen wrote were as long as the wandering, speckled verdant highlands road in late spring, well after the last toilsome, precipitate showers pelted the intemperate soil in such a way as to wonder if Miss Lucas’ afternoon parlor chatter may have summoned the impenetrable riot of showers and clatter of thunder, in order to bequeath a polite farewell to her monologue; which may have, in fact, allowed the younger ladies leisure to take a sip of their tea without the uncertain moments when they felt the very requisition of their eyebrows to raise, in so much as to suggest that they were, indeed, following along with the story all along.

I shall look forward to returning to my stomping grounds with the Bronte sisters, who made much more sense, with clearer grammar, and outside of drawing rooms.  That is the biggest difference that I see: Austen’s settings were always inside.  The Bronte sisters wrote stories which involved travel.  I enjoy the Brontes’s world a little more, for that reason.  Less sitting, more moving.

Exploring Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn As A Woman2 Comments

Jeff Foxworthy kind of hit the nail on the head when he said his wife was a hypochondriac:

“My wife and I, we love watching, like, Dateline, 20/20, those shows. But you know how every week they will feature a disease. And I swear to you, every week, no matter what the disease is, my wife has it.

There could be three people on the planet that have this disease, my wife is one of them. She just watches it going “I’ve got it.”

I have every one of those symptoms. I’m like “you do not have testicular cancer.”
You don’t even have testiculars.”
featured at http://www.quotesworthrepeating.com/quote-by/j/jeff-foxworthy/123-joke-by-jeff-foxworthy/#qJtf2AydiWJALOfC.99

 

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It is really tough having diseases and disorders.

I mean, sure, it’s tough dealing with them.  But most of the time, it is hard figuring out which one is actually happening:

Is it an aura for a seizure?

Is it a panic attack?

Is it an SVT attack?

Is it a Celiac reaction?

Is it a hormone crash?

…could be any of these, a lot of the time.  Fortunately, I’ve been dealing with them all for so long, I kind of have them figured out by now.  For the most part.  If anything, I don’t tend to freak out as much as I used to, and that is helpful.  I don’t think I am going to die, so I got that goin’ for me.

Celiac, Epilepsy and SVT are all pretty under control.  I got it.

But the hormone problems…I just never found an answer for.  5 days during Ovulation, which are paralyzing pain episodes, stabbing pain through my pelvis, migraines, mood swings, vomiting from extreme pain, inability to eat without throwing up; debilitating fatigue, loss (not lack) of energy, and pretty crabby if I can’t help it…it’s just rough.  Then a couple days off, and then PMS 9 days before my cycle.  Same routine as ovulation.  But once the period begins, I feel normal again.  I can breathe easier by then.  And I have a few days until it begins again…

 

Me: “My periods are kind of…extreme.”

Doctor: “Try Tylenol.  Have you tried Tylenol yet?  Try Motrin and Tylenol at the same time.  See if that helps.”

 

It doesn’t help.  And I hate being dependent on pain killers just in order to survive the days.  It is frustrating, and it is demoralizing.  What I hear is, “We don’t know what is wrong with you, so manage the pain until you die.”

And that is not a solution.  Not for me.

I have tried diets, I have tried exercise, I have tried yoga, I have tried supplements, and last year I tried hormone therapy.  And that made everything so much worse.  The pain was unbearable, and it lasted for weeks every month.  The few days off were a godsend at that point.  I asked my doctor, and he said, “Hmm.  Try this one instead.” Which isn’t a solution, either.  I need something a little more scientifically structured than shooting in the dark.

Finally getting the term, Premenstrual Dysphonic Disorder is a breath of relief.

I can finally wrap my head around what is going on, and work on daily solutions to make my days more bearable.  I won’t feel helpless when I am paralyzed by pain that Motrin can’t touch, and I won’t feel like I am going crazy because…this is not “just PMS.”  This is something different.

Instead of looking at balancing my hormones, I am looking at balancing my serotonin levels.

Instead of feeling crazy, I feel like I have the strength to conquer this.

And damned if I’m not going to.

 

“Premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) is a severe form of premenstrual syndrome (PMS). Like PMS, premenstrual dysphoric disorder follows a predictable, cyclic pattern. Symptoms begin in the late luteal phase of the menstrual cycle (after ovulation) and end shortly after menstruation begins.[8] On average, the symptoms last six days, with the most intense symptoms happening in the two days before through the day of the start of menstrual blood flow.[9]

Emotional symptoms are generally present, and in PMDD, mood symptoms are dominant.[8] Substantial disruption to personal relationships is typical for women with PMDD.[8]Anxiety, anger, and depression may also occur. The main symptoms, which can be disabling, include[10]

  • Feelings of sadness or despair, or even thoughts of suicide
  • Feelings of tension or anxiety
  • Panic attacks
  • Mood swings or frequent crying
  • Lasting irritability or anger that affects other people
  • Lack of interest in daily activities and relationships
  • Trouble thinking or focusing
  • Tiredness or low energy
  • Food cravings or binge eating
  • Trouble sleeping
  • Feeling out of control
  • Physical symptoms, such as bloating, breast tenderness, headaches, and joint or muscle pain

The symptoms occur during the week before menstruation, and go away once it starts. A diagnosis of PMDD requires the presence of at least five of these symptoms.[10]“

 

caveat: I might not have this, since the doctors also diagnosed me with endometriosis 2 years ago, and I really don’t think that’s the case.  But crap, who knows by now.  At least this is something new to work with.

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Premenstrual_dysphoric_disorder

http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmedhealth/PMH0004461/ 

“Poetry. Beauty. Romance. Love. These are what we stay alive for.”

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn As A Woman, Redefining Motherhood, Uncategorized1 Comment

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Last night I went to see “Guardians of the Galaxy,” and got caught up in the whole first 5 minutes of the film.

If you haven’t seen it, his mom dies.  You’re welcome.

Anyway, as I was watching the scene, I realized that my perspective has certainly changed over the years.  I think I was supposed to be identifying with Peter Quill in that moment: trying to figure out what was going on, angry that my mom was dying, isolated from humanity through the unbearable grief of death…

But in that moment all I could think of was the things I would want to tell Peter as his mother.

“Peter, this is going to be tough, and I can’t be here to help you anymore, so listen to me sweetie.  Death is painful…for you.  I won’t be in anymore pain after I die, but you will. You will have this pain like a rock inside of you that you can’t move.  You will feel like you can’t breathe with this rock sitting in your chest.  I want you to take some time to feel the rock, so you know what it is, and so you can let it go.  Take time to write all your questions to God on the rock.  Go ahead and ask Him why this had to happen: it’s okay to ask.  Write down all the betrayal you feel, every tear of grief and lay it on top of the rock.  And when you are ready, go down to the ocean and put the rock on the shore with the rest of the rocks.  Let the waves come and go over your toes.  And you can remember me there.  But when you turn around to return home, I want you to be the best man you can be.  Be kind to those who hurt.  Be loving to those who are angry.  Be forgiving to the bitter.  Because you understand what it feels like, and you know how much pain we all are in.  And you can be their smile when they forgot how to smile.

Peter, life isn’t always going to be fair, and I am sorry for that.  But you will never regret being too kind or too loving.  Make sure you see the people around you who you can love, and make sure you let them love you back.

Love,

Mom”

Death is so final.

Most of my family has died.  There is nothing I can do to bring anyone back.  And I spent a lot of time sitting at the desk, so to speak, staring out the windows trying to find answers to the “whys” of death.

But after I became a mother, my perspective has definitely changed.

I looked down at the people sitting in the desks staring hopelessly out the window, and I at want to find the words to make sense of things.  At least the best as humanly possible in the face of ethereal pickles.

The death of both Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Robin Williams are tough.

Both of them brought so much beauty and joy through their art, it is agonizing to think that there is nothing we can do to bring them back.  I can’t write them a letter and tell them that millions of people love them.  I can’t reassure them that sometimes life hurts, but if they need to talk to someone, someone will always be there.

I can’t tell them these things, but I can tell the people around me…I can love them, and help them with their rocks that are keeping them at their desks.

And maybe, if I extend my hand to them, maybe I can help them stand on the desk too.

You never know.

 

Bravery Has Never Become Me.

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn As A Woman2 Comments

Once a week I go for a walk with a friend of mine.

We figured that if we don’t work out for the rest of the week, at least we did it once!

We aren’t fitness people.  I have been doing Pilates, yoga, skating and half-marathons, and I got winded on our walk this morning.  It was pathetic.

A couple weeks ago we were on the last stretch of our walk, talking about projects we were working on and projects we had abandoned and the guilt associated with the abandoned projects…and suddenly were in quite a pickle: there were two very large dogs wriggling through their flimsy wire fence and running directly toward us.

Now, the problem with this is twofold: One, we have a couple of very angry farm dogs running our way.  I was searching my brain with a heaping spoonful of haste to try to remember if I had ever learned anything in the Girl Scouts about dog attacks.

Nothing came to mind.  Which was super helpful.  On the plus side, I know exactly how to place a tourniquet on my wounds and how to fashion a stick into a splint around our broken limbs…and I figure that’s something, right?

Two, we were in a field (we’re rather rural out here).  So there was no house to run to, no door to knock on, no backyard to climb into in order to escape.  Bonus: no sticks around either.

Without thinking, and without having time to think, my friend and I reacted the exact same way: we braced ourselves for the dogs.

 

As I have mentioned before on this blog, I have 5 kids.  My friend is a little ahead of me with 12 kids.  We both have raised dogs for service training.  Neither of us take guff, rubbish, gibberish, excuses, whining or sniveling.  You just can’t in our situations, or you will get nothing accomplished all day.  Lunch with this many kids involves, “I’m sorry you don’t like your lunch.  You’re eating it anyway.”  We are project managers for our households, juggling meals, laundry, school, free time, extracurricular activities, quality time, family time, brushing teeth time, bath time, finding everyone’s shoes time and some one-on-one time with the husbands (hey, it’s pretty obvious by now we like our men.  A lot.)

So, it was interesting to me that our first instinct was not to run, or find help, but to take the dogs head on.

In a crisis, you find out what kind of woman you are: we were warriors.

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Weekends are always fun, but the armor gets heavy after a while. (link)


All of our dog training kicked in, and we got out our mighty pointer finger and pointed it (them?) at the dogs, and with a thunderous clap of sound, we yelled, “NO!  NO DOG!  GO HOME!”

And I’m not even kidding, after a minute or two the dogs went home.  They gave up barking and jumping around us in a circle, and they ran happily back through their (crappy) fence back to their owners.

I’m glad we had some more distance to walk, because that adrenaline rush was wicked.  I definitely had to take a few deep breaths and go, “Well, THAT happened.”

 

Running into conflicts in life always bring about reactions you don’t anticipate.  I’m not scared of dogs, I’m not really scared of bears…but I also don’t want to be attacked by either of them.  Who wants to be attacked by anything, really?

The interesting thing about conflicts is that you will probably react differently to conflicts in different circumstances.  I had no trouble grounding myself and bracing for the dogs, but if I am put into a situation where I see a woman being sexually intimidated by a man…I freeze.

That is the cowardly thing to do, and I hate it.   

On one hand, I will sit there listening to it thinking, “This can’t seriously be happening.”  It is just so obviously inappropriate, I second guess myself.  Am I really seeing this??

On the other hand, I am making an effort in my life to not pick as many fights…and I sit there going back and forth, “Do I destroy this man, or do I go get help…what is the right thing to do??”  I think I might be overreacting to this, I think I might be picking a fight I won’t win, I think I will have the tables turned on me…what do you do?

With people and conflict, I think I am a wimp.

I don’t think I am always a wimp.  There are more than enough times that I have stood up for something or someone, and it usually doesn’t go over well…but really, who cares?  That’s kind of the point of standing up for them.

 

“If we take the generally accepted definition of bravery as a quality which knows no fear, I have never seen a brave man. All men are frightened. The more intelligent they are, the more they are frightened.”    -Gen. George S. Patton

 

I don’t know if I have ever been brave.  I have faced many demons in my life, and they all have a different, twisted face that shows up in real life.  It may be that the absence of bravery has built trellises of strength within my soul, keeping me steady in the face of failure.  I hope I never lose the fear of failure in my life.  There will be times when I will need to stand, when someone else cannot; or speak when they have no voice.   I don’t believe I will be able to avoid failure, since it is the balance by which we judge success.

But I hope when I do succeed, it will be for the person who needed a friend to stand by when the dogs were the loudest.  And maybe we can be brave together.

Going To Conventions As An INTJ Woman….And Other Breathing Exercises

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn As A Woman12 Comments

I am an analytical person.

I’m also a writer, so I get to put all this analytical nebula into some form of order, which is a relief for my brain.

I remember taking the MTBI test with my boyfriend way back when we were in high school and both of us getting the results, “INTJ.”

We also both donated blood at some blood drive in our Senior year and found out we are both O-.  We are also both Scorpios.  We’re both Christian, we are both conservative, we are both madly in love with each other (he’s super hot).  We really had no other choice than to get married to each other…the stars, our brains and our blood said we belonged together.

Anyway, the test wasn’t a big deal back then, since it didn’t mean much to me at 17.  I was still figuring out who I was, what I wanted to study in college, how to find housing/food.  It was an interesting test back then, but nothing terribly life changing.

Fast forward 20 years, and I am a housewife with a college degree, a little urban homestead, married to the most hunky husband on earth and 5 homeschooled kids under our belts.

And still INTJ.

Let me just say that being an INTJ woman is an interesting ride.  Mostly because, as an INTJ, I am analyzing everything…and everything about what it means to be an INTJ woman.  

Although it is fun for me, since I already analyze everything else in life, I can imagine it is exhausting (and maybe irritating) for people around me.  Which is why it is totally great that my husband is INTJ as well, and we can just bury our brains in analyzing the details of life, and then re-analyzing the results, for hours (days).

I love him: he gets me.

The problem really happens when I am around people.  INTJ’s aren’t people-people.  They are person-people.  I can have amazing conversations with either a person, or to an audience.  That’s about it.

c2d6aa62d863fd20259990f654351ca7I’m sorry, in advance.  

Continue reading “Going To Conventions As An INTJ Woman….And Other Breathing Exercises” →

That’s how we should go back to the Moon…

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn As A WomanLeave a comment

Buzz Aldrin did an interview today, and I loved reading his perspective.

On one hand, he thought “Gravity” was the best portrayal of being in space, and Sandra Bullock deserved an Oscar for it, which is awesome.  On the other hand, he said he has never seen aliens.  So that’s a bummer.

But he had one line that was interesting: “That’s how we should go back to the Moon, not by competing with other nations, like China, to land our people – we’ve done that.”

That got me thinking about the culture of women in America for the past few generations.

Continue reading “That’s how we should go back to the Moon…” →

“Do Mommy Bloggers Matter? …”

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn As A Woman, Christian Women, Demystifying AlcoholLeave a comment

“…First, let me just clarify: I have nothing against mothers… “

by 

http://stuntandgimmicks.com/do-mommy-bloggers-matter/

 

This is such an interesting idea.  Do Mommy Bloggers matter?

I hadn’t considered Mommy Bloggers didn’t matter.  It definitely takes a perspective outside of onesself to see if one matters.  Or does it?

I was curious, just to be contrary, if Daddy Bloggers matter, and I was quite amused to see that not only do they matter, but they have their own website: Screen Shot 2014-07-02 at 4.52.51 PM

http://dadmatters.focusonthefamily.com/

Continue reading ““Do Mommy Bloggers Matter? …”” →