13 Reasons I'm Lucky I Broke My Left Hand

A #Crowdsourced List compiled from my Facebook Page

13. #LeftyWasAlwaysUselessAnyway - seriously I'm uber right-handed. The left is there for aesthetic purposes only
Serendipity

12. Be happy its lefty. Now you have THAT much longer to wait until you find out how hard it is to wipe your tushy with your left hand
Natalie Arizmendi

11. Perfect reason to slow down the hectic pace of life.
Imperfect Mom Chronicles  

10. Teachable moment about running in the house. At least that was my Dad's first comment - "Maybe you shouldn't be running through the apartment?"
Serendipity

9. Can you hear the sound of my one handed clapping at you acting like a dingus with two working hands?
Raincloud Murphy 

8. Once the pain reduces a bit, you got yourself a fantastic bitchslapper.
Melissa Liddon 

7. Reaffirms my theme song "I haven't got time for the pain”
Serendipity

6. Someplace to rest a plate. #alwaysawesome #becausefood
Tera Johns

5. Perfect excuse to get out of "stuff”.  "Oh, you want me to attend some sort of social gathering? Sorry. Can't. Hand is broke."
Chasity Conley 

4. One step closer to finding my "unbreakable" nemesis
Serendipity

3. Built in super ninja self defense weapon. #hiyah 
Tera Johns 

2. One word: Percocet

Serendipity

1. There are dishes in the sink? *raises left hand* sorry someone else's problem right now can't wash with 1 hand. (This works for bath time too!)

Jill Grant O'Neil 

Looking on the Bright Side - I am Queen

I have given myself many titles, but one of my favorites is Queen of Silver Linings. 

I don't know if I was always this way, looking for the bright side. I can remember watching Haley Mills in Pollyanna with my mother & kind of making fun of her for being all glassy eyed as Mom watched the little girl find her sunny outlook again. 

Somewhere along the way I learned if your world falls apart you need to believe there is a way out, otherwise there never will be. It's a self-fulfilling prophesy, right? Because if you don't believe there is a path back out of the darkness you won't look to find it. 

I'm not totally naive, nor am I trying to blow sunshine up your booty. Bad shite happens. A lot of it. I don't just mean on a personal level, of course. Listen I live in NYC; I was here on September 11, 2001. Life routinely turns on a dime & punches us in the throat.  

Long before that tragic day, Mister Rogers reminded us to look for the helpers. To shift your focus onto those who are working to make it better. Here in NYC, I've witnessed an extraordinary outpouring of kindness & generosity by ordinary individuals. First in the aftermath of the attacks. Two years later there was a massive blackout on the East Coast & I saw that same spirit of togetherness resurface immediately. Then again in the wake of Sandy, the storm that tore apart much of our region. 

I've been lucky, I guess. Those large-scale tragedies have never directly impacted my family. Just the run of the mill bad shite darkens the clouds in my sky. And yet I've witnessed the same empathy & kindness directed toward me, momentarily cutting the dark.

Still, I imagine most folks who meet me would never know I live with chronic pain. They'd never imagine all the surgeries I've had to repair my knees, my foot. They'd never know by looking about the losses, the poor choices, the humiliations. All the pieces of my life that I often feel are barely stitched up & held in place by a single fine thread. 

I used to feel like I wore a mask. A mask made of my choice to live without regret, my choice to look for the up-side, my choice not to focus on the pain but instead focus on what good things have resulted from that pain. So I worried I was being disingenuous. 

But I'm beginning to realize I don't have a false facade, after all. Rather, how I choose to view the world somehow shines from me, like the silver lining around a dark cloud. 

So I can say with hesitation or fear of misinterpretation - Serendipity is the Queen of Silver Linings. 

God must be giggling

I've been working on two different blog posts for days now. One on being "mindless", the other about always wanting to do more. 

I literally can't catch but a few minutes to gather my thoughts before I'm pulled away...  

And so it goes. ;-)

My mother always said: "You want to make God laugh? Make a plan."

Sunday Confessions: First Love

...You were my first love  

And you'll be my last love 

I'll be true to you... 

Ever since More Than Cheese And Beer posted this week's confession prompt, I've been trying to figure out who I would consider my "first love."

Surely not Steven, my 1st grade beau. He may have gotten the inaugural kiss, but I can't say I loved him. 

So I mentally scrolled through the years, recalling heady days when love was budding & coming to blossom. Memories replayed like home movies, each love story flickering in my mind to it's own soundtrack. 

The more I thought about those young loves the louder the music seemed to play. 

Eventually the music brought me around to a montage of family camping trips. Love of family? Could that qualify as a first love? 

Maybe one of my favorite singers from my childhood? John Denver & Jimmy Buffett both hold a piece of my heart from an early age. 

And that's when it hit me: My real first love is Music. 

I know it's such a trite thing to say, but my life is like a movie. Just like a film, there is a continuous soundtrack. Literally. It would seem every memory I have is attached to a song. The songs evoking the memories, which reminds me of another song. 

But it's not just those "flashback" moments that are filled with music. Only Friday I had to explain to the therapist setting my broken hand that when I'm in pain or afraid I actually hum "a happy tune" so that I won't feel so sad! Can anyone else hear Deborah Kerr in their heads right now? 

Ask anyone who's gone to a playground with me & you'd learn my entire life I have sung "Let's Go Fly a Kite" whenever I sat on a swing or rode on a carnival ride that took me up in the air. Up to the atmosphere! Up where the air is clear!

Let's not even get started on all the random little ditties we make up every day. I'm forever changing the lyrics to songs my kids already know. Or sometimes a silly tonal pattern I've made up will stick & we have a new family song. Add in the theme songs my kids hum, the rhythmic sounds of NYC outside our window...  the list goes on & on. 

Although I will never be any kind of musician, I will always be true to my dulcet darling, Music. 

My Endless Love.

Touring Toddlerville

Well howdy! You're here for the tour, right?!  Excellent. I'm always glad to have folks come around and visit my corner of the Blogosphere I call "Toddlerville". 

Serendipity: Queen of Silver Linings
& Leader of Ninja Pirate Fairies

I guess I should lay down the ground rules. I live in New York City and anonymity is sort of a cornerstone of being a New Yorker. So why don't you just call me "Serendipity" - a nickname I've had since junior high school. 

So naturally, while I talk about my life & my family, I maintain an air of mystery about their identities as well. Nope, there won't be any photos of their gorgeous faces. Trust me, they are hella cute. Don't worry, you'll still get to see their antics, I just pull their hats down or cut off their heads (photographically speaking, of course).

Hubs, Summer Boy & Winter Girl hanging out in Central Park 

So why "Toddlerville"? This kingdom was so named for my two children, more often referred to as the Rebel-spawn toddlers. The Rebels are Summer Boy (now 4) & Winter Girl (now 2.5). Since I have one of each, it's easier just to call them by their gender. When talking to my Hubs this is often how I refer to them anyway. Summer & Winter are the seasons when they were born, but their personalities somehow seem a reflection of that fact. (One day I will finish writing the post about this observation.) 

Also noteworthy, I suppose, is that the Hubs is an English/Irish hybrid. He has lived in the US for better than half his life now & while a naturalized citizen, he's not Americanized. 

As for me, I'm a military brat who came back to the place that was favorite of all the places I lived as a kid. In addition to the blog, you can catch up with me daily at FB/MotherOfSerendipity. 

Summer fun with the whitest family on the beach!
Look how they glow! Irish genetics at work, kids.

So here's the deal: I know the fantabulous Thriller Mom from that book of faces place, and she also has a wonderful blog by the same name. Be sure to stop in and give her hugs! 

Anyway, she tapped me for this blogland tour & challenged me to pull back the curtain and explain the madness that is my life and how that translates into writing. 

Don't mind the hair. Fire away - I'm ready to talk.

What am I working on?

Is maintaining my sanity an ok answer? It would be the most honest. No, you want a more creative answer? Boo... alright. 

• I am always working on de-cluttering. 
• I am always working on decorating the house. I have this tub of frames & tons of family photos I'd like to get hung all down our hall. 
• I am working on getting all the electronic photos organized. There are 3000 on my phone alone. 
• We won't even talk about the email situation.
• Yeah, I have some issues. I'm working on that too

How does my work differ from those in my genre?

Okay, listen - I'm not sure what my genre is. I'm not a humorist, although sometimes I guess I'm funny. I would consider myself an optimist, but not in a sunshine up your ass kind of way. I'm certainly not trying to provide anyone with a path to follow. I try to bring some perspective, mostly for my own sake. Life's too short to take anything too seriously, right?

I suppose I'm a "journalist", in that this space is my journal and a record of my journey. 

Why do I write/create what I do?

I write, particularly on the blog, when I feel like there is too much inside my brain to keep it locked up. I decide to post a piece when I feel like my experience can benefit someone else. Whether that is to inspire or merely to feel less alone is really up to the reader. 

I earned an art degree in college & maybe that's why I also enjoy taking photos or quotes & making them into memes. I think the quick visual can speak volumes, often more elegantly than a long essay.

How does my writing creative process work?

If I had to give a one word answer: piecemeal. 

I am usually thinking about what to write at nitenite time, or when I'm doing yoga, or walking (usually with the kids in the stroller). When I have a coherent thought, a fully formed sentence or (gadzooks!) a whole paragraph then I try to jot it down. 

Preferably I would write straight into this space, but more often it is on the Notes app in my phone. Sometimes I just text myself. Whatever I can do to lock it down electronically, because my children scribble on and/or eat all the paper. Eventually I copy and paste all those random bits into one post about a larger theme. 

Sometimes ALL of that work is still just a launching point. Other times I can piece a full post together. 

Of course, all of this explains why, contrary to my intention, I am terribly inconsistent in my posting. 
At the moment I also have a broken hand, which has slowed me down quite a lot. I prefer to write the blog typing on a computer & typing is pretty much hunt & peck with only one hand. It's hard for my brain to work on composing and be actively thinking about how to type at the same time.

Well - How's that for a peek at the ol' writing process?! Hope you've enjoyed poking around behind the scenes. I look forward to seeing you around!

Now that we're past all this me, me, me business, I am super pleased to introduce you to two of my favorite ladies not just in Blogland, but all the interwebs. Do yourself a favor and stalk them. Once you're ready to introduce yourself, make sure you tell them Serendipity sent you!

Chasity of Dammit Jim, I'm a Mom, not a Doctor

Facebook www.facebook.com/dammitjimimamom

Twitter @dammitjimimamom

Blogger http://dammitjimimamom.blogspot.com/

Pinterest http://www.pinterest.com/DammitJimImAMom

Three fun facts about me:

*I love crafting and do a craft every day of the week with my daughter.

*I am a published author and I also illustrate my own books.

*I enjoy knitting and reading. (and Star Trek - I don't know how she left that off)

Gretchen of How My Brain Works

Blog:  http://howmybrainworks.weebly.com/

Facebook:  How My Brain Works www.facebook.com

She is a mom of 4 boys ranging in age from 11 to only 10 months, who also runs the local Cub Scout Pack! 

As she says: "Boy Scouts of America is a program I truly believe in and believe a boy needs a youth program such as this. In fact I believe all children should be able to be a part of youth programs. I am a child advocate. I believe in no child left behind. That every child should have a chance to explore, grow and learn!"

Sunday Confessions: Regret?

I can honestly say, without any hesitation, I do not regret one single thing I have ever done.

Seriously, not one. 

I used to answer the question "What is your biggest regret?" by saying that I gave it up one year for Lent, and after 40 days with out it I realized I didn't need regret anymore. I put it that way to be funny, because people are not comfortable with my real answer. 

I do not regret anything. Not one moment of my life. Not one decision. From the big decisions about jobs & lovers to the little decisions about which way to drive to work or having one more glass of wine. I stand behind all of them. 

Now ask me why. Go on. Might as well, I'm telling you anyway. 

So one day I woke up and decided that I really wanted to like myself. Genuinely, unwaveringly, like the me that I am. As far as I could tell what was standing in the way of me doing that was a huge-ass pile of regret. A mountain of second guessing. A festering ugly "What IF..." looming over my life. 

How do you get rid of that? Doesn't EVERYONE have that nonsense? Isn't that part of the human condition?? 

I don't know, I'm not a philosopher. I'm just a lady (it's a figure of speech) who wants to love herself. 

So instead of trying to sweep all those poor decisions under a rug, I decided that I would embrace them all in a great big hug of forgiveness. Just go on and squeeze the power right out of them. 

And then I realized what I was doing. I was embracing the ME that I am. Each decision, each step on my journey has led me to be the person I am right this minute. 

Do not misunderstand. I certainly cringe at some of the things I did in my 20s. Okay yeah, a big chunk of my 30s was a major disaster too. But had I not made those choices then, maybe I wouldn't have made other choices. Maybe I'd never even been presented with the choices that led me to my husband. Or my children. 

People say hindsight is 20/20. Perfect clarity. I call bullshit. I say when you look back it's like looking through a small window & with blinders on. Your focus is very narrow, and no matter how perfect the glass, it always distorts reality. 

If people were designed to live life looking backward, our eyes would be on the tops of our heads and swivel around like some kind of lizard. That's all regret is. It is looking backwards when you should be looking ahead. 

If you don't like what you see in the mirror, no amount of lamenting about the past will change that. Those choices brought you to today. The choices you make NOW will determine who you see in the mirror tomorrow. 

Make your choices. Own them all. Love yourself with no regrets. 

PS - I was cleaning off some photos just now & found this quote. If you don't believe me, believe Dr. Seuss. You've probably known him all your life. 

Anxiety Rising - What's with Today, today?

Today is a mixed bag of strange & change. 

I'm sitting in a coffee shop trying to keep myself in check. 

"I will not cry in public." That is my mantra. 

My Boy started Pre-K today. 

We've been preparing. The last 2 days we've walked down to the school. Each day my Boy saying "that's my new school! Can we go in? I want to go to school!"  Played in the park beside it. 

The Boy was so excited & hugged his sister goodbye. Posed for photos at home & as we walked to the school. He got into the classroom & went right to playing. He wasn't concerned when Hubs had to leave. There wasn't a hint of uncertainty about him when he said bye to me a few minutes later.  

I had to stop & fill in some information in the hall & before I could finish he came running out crying. Looking for me. He kept repeating "You can't leave me. I'm just scared."

I was brave. I did my best to calm him. We sang the first verse of "Sing (sing a song)" together. His little voice so quiet, quivering in a way I've never heard. I reminded him this was our song & if he felt unsure he could sing to himself & it would make it better. 

That's all I had. 

Thankfully it's a half day. 

Now if I could just stop myself from shaking. 

----

Now it's later in the afternoon, the Boy made it through the morning. I left him with his sister & the sitter. 

I'm taking a Bikram yoga class. Once again there is drama from new yogis. They end up storming out of the room during the floor series, stepping over my mat because I'm near the door. One of their mats double smacks me in the face. 

Alright then. Focus. Get back into the meditation. 

Several times during class I'm choking back tears. There is so much emotion tying my muscles and joints into stiff knots. 

I fell asleep after class while in my final resting pose (mama needed rest). I was awakened by a blast of cold air as a woman burst back into the room and said "Joan Rivers is dead! You just know Melissa is going to be devastated."

Um, yes. I am ffamiliar with that emotion. Thank you for ripping me back to reality with news of death & mourning. I totally feel refreshed now. 

----

Cut to the dentist's office. 

A fairly routine procedure to remove a temporary crown and install the new ones is made difficult by the temporary adhesive not wanting to come off. 

It is a well documented fact that I loathe the dentist. I struggle to remain calm during a cleaning. My teeth are sensitive, and I've had so many bad experiences with crappy dentists. 

I'm trying though, I'm trying to stay even keeled. I can tell the dentist is trying to be gentle, but she finally decides she will need to numb the area. But I'm just too jacked up now. The adrenaline is pumping, my heart is racing, and even the feeling of the Novocaine being injected into the gum is freaking me out. 

And then the full blown panic attack I've been trying to avoid all day has me. I suppress the scream, but I squeal enough that the dentist and her assistant pull back as I sit straight up in the chair. Trying to regain control of my breathing. Hoping I won't go into a full flop sweat. I keep apologizing, but I'm not sure why. I have no control over this. 

It is taking everything I have not to just leave. I can live without teeth. Or maybe you just pull out what's left of this tooth that is hurting so badly? Because the screaming from the tooth is ringing my jaw bone like a bell in my ears. 

The Novocaine is starting to work. The pain in my jaw is beginning to fuzz out. My breath is returning to normal. 

Finally I'm able to relax enough to let her finish. Somewhere in there the numbing effect reaches it's peak, and I make a joke about it. 

----

Back home and I'm still uneasy. It's all been too much today. I can't find words to express it properly on my page on Facebook. But I see this ripple from so many of my friends. So much angst. So many people talking about headaches, migraines, taking a break from people. Amy texts me from Alaska. Her fiancé is having a health crisis. It's all too much. 

What's with Today? All I can think is there is a disturbance in the Force. 

And all I can do is hope and pray that tomorrow will be a brand new day. A brighter day.