Signs, signs, everywhere are signs

I noticed a while ago the number 1 popping up, actually it's the number 11.  As in 11:11, I see that combo on my clock a lot.  I also notice 1:11 a lot.   A lot more than I think I should.  More than seems merely coincidental.  

I've been pondering my place in the Universe quite a bit lately.  I feel like there's something more.  Something bubbling just below the surface you know?  Paulo is in a track and field camp this week that is put on by a rather sizable SW Portland Church.  At the end of every evening they gather the kids and talk about life lessons such as responsibility, respect, fairness-you know good stuff to pour into their little spongy minds!   His time on the field has given me a lot of time to read, I finished The Spirit Whisperer by John Holland, and started Same Soul Many Bodies by Dr. Brian Weiss.  It's also give me more time to ponder. 

A few nights ago they talked about the responsibility for your talents.  Essentially not wasting your God given abilities.  It was a nice talk, age appropriate, but it left me wondering, pondering my place, trying to decipher what I'm supposed to do in this lifetime. You see, I believe in reincarnation.  I believe that in every lifetime we have certain tasks to complete, lessons to learn, things that we must do.  And if we fail to complete that Divine To Do list then we come back and try again....and again....and again....until we get it right.  Each time on Earth allows us to fine tune the soul a little more.  We learn as we go and we start to hum at a higher frequency.  Ultimately when all our Earthly lessons are learned then....well, I don't know, I'm not there yet.

I drove home that evening, pondering.  That night I glanced at my clock.  Yes, 11:11.  It happened again the next day.  And today, not the clock this time but the expiration date of a customer's credit card, this time it was 111.  It's been happening for weeks.

I googled numerology. I like that sort of stuff. There's a site I stumbled across called Spirit Link and the subject of the repeating number patterns was addressed. In it the author refers to these numbers as a message from our higher selves, the part of us that sees beyond the horizon-poetic no? I like that. It speaks to me.  So what is the significance of the numbers I am seeing repeated?

1-Creativity, independence, originality, ego, self
11-Intuition, idealism, invention, insensitivity, fanaticism

http://spiritlink.com/numbmean.html

It's a bit like a tarot reading I suppose, highly subjective.  To me though what I see is a reassurance I'm on the right path.  Encouragement to keep working on my spiritual and physical self.  To trust my intuition.  Again, it's like a tarot reading, highly subjective. 

Another site I read referred to people born under the number 1.  Those include people born from the 21st of March through the 28th of April.  April 28 is Paulo's birthday. 

I suppose some could say it's merely coincidental that the numbers 1 and 11 keep popping up, but I don't think so.  I think there's more to life than meets the eye.  I think there are signs everywhere, if only we open our eyes and see them.  There are messages, but we have to be willing to hear them.

What happened to the music?

Paulo's been sleeping late this week.  He has track camp from 6:30-8:30 every night so we don't get home until 9 and then he's not in bed until 10 ish.  That's really late for a little guy!

This morning at close to 9 am he was still snoozing.  I opened his door a crack to peek at him and I could see him stirring around.  So I decided to snuggle him awake.  I crawled in bed beside him and he sort of half raises up on his stomach and starts shaking his head and rubbing near his face.  Not on his face mind you, just in the air next to it.  Then the face changes, his eyes scrunch, his mouth scrunches and the hand?  The hand makes the rock on sign.  I watch, giggling quietly as my son starts to jam out.  Then after a few seconds he flops down and snuggles up to me.  That's when he wakes up.  His head pops up and he looks around, out to the room, back to me, a couple of times and then he says, "what happened to the music?"  Uh, there was no music, what song were you hearing?  "Boom boom pow" and at that we both dissolve into giggles.  He loves the Black Eyed Peas so much he dances to their music in his dreams.

He's going to be OK

I'm continually amazed and proud of my sweet boy!

Paulo's at a playdate with a school buddy and the Mom had made a dairy and gluten free cake, but it had eggs.  He told her he's allergic to eggs and she called me to verify if he could have it or not.  For the record, I'm not gung ho on this until Monday-I need some time to plan out what he will eat and shop for the alternatives.  But I was really proud of him for paying attention and speaking up, basically advocating for his own health. 

Sorry son, no more beer for you

My sweet baby, Paulo, has been plagued by ear infections and year round allergies.  Since Valentine's day he's had 3 EIs, all in the same left ear.  Two of which ruptured.  It's really hard to watch your son experience the pain of an EI that is on the verge of rupturing.  I'd do anything to prevent that from happening again.  It was heartbreaking.

Here's a brief recap of our journey through Allergyville:
http://theviewfrommyfoxhole.blogspot.com/2010/03/source-of-sneezing.html
The first blood test came back with some environmental red flags but no food flags.  So I decided to proceed with skin testing.
http://theviewfrommyfoxhole.blogspot.com/2010/03/now-work-begins.html
The skin test came back positive for a lot of different pollen allergies as well as dusts and pet dander.  We decided to continue with the daily dose of Claratin and add in Nasonex.  I also decided to take him to my naturapath, Kelly.  http://theviewfrommyfoxhole.blogspot.com/2010_06_01_archive.html
Come June, and the 3rd round of infections, I took him back to the ENT we saw when he was 3 for a check out.  He thought that his allergies were the biggest culprit but wanted a scan to rule out any sinus abnormalities.  The cat scan came back showing "improvement" in his sinuses-whatever that means.  He recommended we stick with the allergy treatments and follow up with him in a month.  

By that time though I'd already decided to have food allergy blood tests done again.  This test, recommended by my naturapath was more sensitive.  Yes, I know there is such as thing as too sensitive, but this would give us a starting point for an elimination diet, if needed.  I took him off his daily allergy meds for the required week-boy was that a tough week!  We had the blood work done on the 5th of July and today was his follow up with Kelly.  The blood work results were in.  And the playing field in the old kitchen is totally changed.

My baby boy tested extremely high for egg and wheat allergies and high for dairy allergies.  Oh, and brewers yeast, sorry Paulo, no more sipping Daddy's beer-at least for now. 

The reality is, the daily breakfast of eggs and toast, waffles or pancakes that I happily have served my child nearly every single day for the past oh 4 years or so **may** be contributing to his severe allergy symptoms and his recurrent ear infections.  In the immortal words of Homer Simpson....DOH!

Where does that leave us now?  On an elimination diet.  No eggs, no wheat and no dairy for 8 weeks.  After that we will reintroduce them one at a time and monitor his symptoms.  Yeah, Momma's going to need to do a little research this weekend and some serious pantry purging.

A loaded subject-Diet

Webster defines diet as:

1 a : food and drink regularly provided or consumed b : habitual nourishment c : the kind and amount of food prescribed for a person or animal for a special reason d : a regimen of eating and drinking sparingly so as to reduce one's weight

When we think of the word diet most people go directly to stage 4 of the above definition.  When the dreaded D word escapes our lips it is usually filled with self loathing and punishment.  It is loaded with negativity, deprivation and pain.  Which is so very sad.  Food is not punishment.  Food is love.  Food is life. 

I love food.  I love to plan meals.  I love the produce section of the grocery store.  I love the smell of food cooking.  I love creating new recipes.  Finding ways to make my time in the kitchen easier.  I love eating.  Oh I really, really love eating.  And I love to see my family eat well.  Food is love.  Food is life.  Without nourishment we cease to exist.  With substandard nourishment our hearts may beat, we may exist, but we do not thrive.  We are not living up to our potential, living with grace, fullfilling our Divine purpose.  I see that every day here.  Our people are not thriving.  We are merely existing, not flourishing.  What am I here for?  What are you here for?  There must be something more, a greater purpose, a Divine purpose.  But if we unwell we cannot find it let alone fullfill it. 

I started a journey toward improving my health last Spring that began with a two week detox.  An anti inflammation diet is what my naturapath called it.  It was wonderful.  It was a really positive and healthy way of living.  I felt great, more at peace, more patient, more energetic.  I began the journey for my physical health, I didn't think that changing my diet would have an effect on my emotional or spiritual self.  I was wrong.  I've found that the cleaner I live the more spiritual I feel.  I struggle to define what I believe in but whatever it is calls to me more clearly when my body is not filled with toxins. 

I've done a lot of reading since then on the different ideas and methods for keeping the body clean internally.  I've finally finished reading Natalia Rose's Detox for Women that was loaned to me by a dear friend.  I'm starting Alicia Silverstone's The Kind Diet next.  I really enjoyed Quantum Wellness, very inspiring book, but the full "program" was a bit too strict for me.  I like to pick up little tid bits, little pearls of wisdom, from all the different "experts" and then decide what works for me.  What makes my body feel the best?  What elevates my energy, my mental focus, chi or my "life force" as Natalia calls it.  The question has become how can I best support my physical health so that I can grow spiritually and emotionally?  Being unwell takes up too much energy, it saps the body and mind.  It limits us.  Carrying toxins around weighs us down emotionally, we cannot connect with the world around us or the people in it, when we are filled with sludge, and if we are not connected to the world then we will never do anything to improve it.  We will continue trudging through this life, never fullfilling our purpose.  I want to discover and fullfill mine.  Do you?  What will you do to get there?  And could it really be as simple as starting with our diet?  Not deprivation mind you, but nourishment. 

Food is love.  Food is life. 

How well do you want to live? 

Eat well.  Live well.  Be well.

Memories

I had to pick up Dimitri yesterday from the golf course that's way, way, way out off I-5 North, Heron Lakes.  I left my office at 4:30, prime rush hour, and immediately hit traffic.  I finally made it to the car pool lane and said a silent prayer of gratitude that with Paulo in the car I met the minimum people requirement to use that lane.  Finally made it to the golf course, I had a vague idea of where we were going but had never been there it was a little shaky, picked him up and started back.  Now I-5 South at 5:30, yes it took me almost a full hour to get to the Golf Course, is even worse.  So I decided to take the scenic route.

Fortunately I have a good sense of direction and knew that if I followed a certain road it would lead me to Lombard St. which I could then take to the St. John's Bridge, to Hwy 30 and ultimately back onto I-5 South.  It's a loop, but we would avoid the traffic traps known as the I-84 on ramp and the Rose Quarter.  Traffic I'm sure was even worse than normal because last night little Justin Bieber was at the Rose Quarter for a concert and thousands of screaming tweens were on their way to watch the little guy sing.  Seriously, how old is he?  I know they say he's 16 but he does not look older than 12!

Anyway, we headed off down into North Portland and immediately I'm hit.  No, not my car, my mind.  Memory after memory after memory flood my brain.  You see, I grew up over there.  I traveled that road regularly.  As I'm driving down the street it's almost an overwhelming sensation.  Look, that's the park we used to play at.  Look, there's where I used to get my hair done-back then it was a beauty school and Mom and I would go to get our hair done by the upper level students.  They also did my prom hair when I was 14-I had a much, much older boyfriend.  I sat in those chairs for hour up on hour waiting for the perm solution to take effect-oh yes, my friends, I had perms-and lots of them.  We drove further and passed our family's favorite Chinese joint-I'm sure it's not the same people running it but the building looks the same.  The Safeway was new, that used to be a Thriftway I think and there was a King's Table buffet across the parking lot that has long since been bulldozed.  Our family of 6 would go to King's Table for special dinners out, I thought that was pretty darn fancy back then.  I was especially fond of the ice cream station.  Oh the big cone of soft serve mixed chocolate and vanilla, that was my favorite.  We made it down through St. Johns, with my children being subjected to a few more oh look...there's....and then across the bridge.  The bridge I used to walk across as a child with my Mother and ride my bike across as a teenager.  I would ride my bike over the bridge and do my shopping for Outdoor School crafts with my best friend, Abbe, then we'd ride to my house and spend hours making bracelets and name tags, making beads and decorating our wood cookies.  We drove down Highway 30 towards I-5, the road I used to travel every single day of my life, and passed the street I grew up on.  The street I came home from the hospital to when I was born.  The street I lived on every year until I was 18, with the exception of 4 years of moving around.  The street where we celebrated every Christmas, every Easter, every birthday.  The street that I used to run down as a little girl to greet my Daddy when he came home from work.  The street I trudged up with my backpack heavy after school.  The street where the house still stands-for now.  The house, now empty and abandoned but still owned by my Father, needs to be demolished, it's falling down, it's unsafe.  Frankly by my standards it was probably unsafe when I lived in it too, but I didn't know any different and above all, it was home.  A few minutes walk away from the house sat a restaurant.  The restaurant that my Mother and I walked to for lunch on my 13th birthday and she gave me her ruby ring.  The building still stands, but it's an adult video store now, which makes me sad. 

I don't travel those roads anymore.  Neither literally nor figuratively.  It feels like a lifetime ago, and really, that's not far from true.  I lived there for 18 years.  I've lived elsewhere for 18 years.  And where I live today could not be farther than where I grew up, on many different levels.  Part of me feels sad about that.  There's a lot to be said for urban living.  From the outside looking in I see a greater sense of community involvement and interpersonal connections.  I look at my neighborhood, safe in the 'burbs, and I don't see any of that connectivity.  We live in a bedroom community, we live our lives elsewhere and come home to eat and sleep.  There's little opportunity for getting out and getting to know my neighbors.  If I want a latte, I have to get in my car and drive a couple of miles.  When you live in an urban area chances are, you can walk.  It might not be Starbucks-who am I kidding Starbucks are everywhere!-but you can walk down the street and get a latte.  Not me.  I think I'd like it though. 

I'm glad I decided to take that scenic route.  The timing was right, I was nostalgic and a little emotional already because of my birthday.  It was good to remember where I came from and also how far I've come.

36 starts off just fine

I honestly don't have many birthday memories.  I remember my 13th, my mother handed down the ruby ring that her mother gave her when she turned 13.  I love that ring.  I remember my 15th, my parents took my friends and I out to Elmers for breakfast, we decided we'd wear our jammies....I was the only one that wore mine!  Mind you they were not the jammies I slept in that night, oh no, I dressed for the occasion in a throat to toe red flannel nightie, long sleeved, and about 6 sizes too big.  I have pictures.  I thought I was HILARIOUS!  I also thought I was quite grown up at 15 sitting there at a restaurant, in my jammies, drinking coffee.  I remember one birthday getting a pink thong from my big sister, I'm not sure what age I was, a teenager I know, but the number escapes me, 16 perhaps.  The memory doesn't escape me though because I had no idea which was the back and which was the front! 

I don't remember turning 30.  Paulo was 2.5 months old.  I was fully engrossed in being his Mommy.  I remember 35-last year-because I took Dimitri to the midnight showing of Harry Potter 6.  I think, hope rather, I will remember this one.

I woke this morning somewhat groggy from a later than good for me night.  But at some point during the night or wee hours of the morning my husband had slipped my birthday card and a chocolate on to my nightstand.  When I saw it he told me, there's something special in your chocolate.  Well yeah, there's always something special in chocolate, it's called chocolate!  But seriously, he had folded up a paper and put it in the wrapper.  The paper was an advertisement we'd received recently for a massage special at a new place in Beaverton.  Inside the paper was money.  On the paper was written July 14 10:30.....huh?  Oh yeah, he booked a massage for me!  DURING THE WORK DAY!!  Good husband, major brownie points-perhaps he speaks my language after all.  I got downright giddy and giggled like a little girl.  Totally put a spring in my step!  I did the morning breakfast with him and then with the boys and loaded them into the car and headed for the gym.  I got to go to the gym before my massage, could the day get better?!  Yes, yes it could.  The massage was actually great.  Better than my last one and much needed.  After that was my annual lunch date with my Daddy, sushi, oh yeah, good day...very good day.  I finally rolled into work at 1:00 with lattes in hand, one for me and one for my Prince Charming who scheduled me a massage!  My day got even better when my wine sales rep told me he was sending me a little gift with my next shipment of wine we buy for our customers whose bills surpass that dreaded 1K mark, the wonderful man is sending me a case of wine, a case, to celebrate my birthday!  My three boys and I enjoyed a dinner out and then finally finished watching Avatar this evening.  All in all it was a delightful day.

Celebrating my birthday actually started last Sunday though at my In Law's house.  That too was, dare I say, just about perfect.  The weather was great.  The food was amazing.  The people I loved were there-well most of them anyway.  I would say that this birthday ranks easily at the top of my list.  I felt loved.  I felt special.  I felt validated.  I wish I could say I always feel like that on my birthday but the truth is, I haven't, but today, today I do.  I feel all that and more and I am grateful.