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I Have Learned...

• Being right isn't always the most important thing.
• You can't be anyone but who you already are.
• It's okay to cry.
• Family is everything.
• Only I can be responsible for my own happiness.
• Not all who wander are lost
• The "AH-HAH!" moments come when you least expect them to.
• You don't always have to do what you are told.
• Taxes suck.
• It's not all black and white.
• Sunshine makes the difference.
• "Shut your pie hole" is both insulting AND delicious.
• Some of the greatest memories are the ones you never share with anyone.
• It's healthy and okay to say NO.
• Feelings have a purpose.
• It's only my business, God's business and no one else's business.
• The gospel is an individual matter.
• Not all books are worthwhile.
• I can't take care of anyone until I take care of myself.
• The littlest things are, quite often, the best things.
• Food tastes better when I don't have to prepare it.
• When in doubt, don't.
• Bless others' lives.
• There are no guarantees.
• The heart wants what it wants.  It's a mystery.
• Floss your teeth.
• Get what you want.  Want what you have.
• There is ALWAYS someone who will repeat what you told them in confidence.
• Laugh, laugh, laugh everyday.
• Free agency is real.
• Do what you want but be prepared to take responsibility for your actions.
• Love because you can, not because it's convenient.
• Live well
• Everyone is carrying a burden.
• There is more to every story than simply what meets the eye.
• All you can do is your best.
• Your feet DO get bigger during pregnancy.
• There's no need to supersize.
• Common courtesy is always in fashion.
• Everyone is a little psycho.
• If there's nothing you can do about it, if you're not willing to help then don't bitch about it.
• Be brave.
• Motherhood is the toughest job in all the world.
• Sleep keeps you healthy.  And sane.
• Don't talk back to your mother.
• Sometimes ultimatums are the only way to get things done.
• Never pass up an opportunity to go on vacation.
• Let your heart break for others.
• Gardening is good for the soul.
• Naps should be mandatory.  Everyone.  Everyday.
• Loosen up.
• Question everything.
• Karma is real.
• Christ is my friend.  Yours too.

What Does It Mean?

I have had people ask why my blog is called "Peculiar & Co."

Just by way of information, the surname "Wunderlich" is an old German word that means peculiar or wondrous.  So, now you know.

But, just ask anyone who knows me.  They'll tell you how peculiar I am.

Sentimental Girl

I am a silly, sentimental girl.

I hold too close and I hug too long.

Crying at the tiniest of things, I embarrass myself, stumbling over apologies.

A grown woman, feeling only twelve inside....

    Fragile, fresh and unsure of herself.

I fancy that good will always win and that the victim will become the victor

I am a silly, sentimental girl.

I carry memories like stones in my pocket--

    Stones worn smooth from turning over and over in my mind.

I believe that life is easier than the conundrum we have created

    And that the simplest things are the best things that could ever be.

The little things are never too small--they make all the difference.

I am a silly, sentimental girl.

The crucial morsels of my life elude me--or so I think.

My heart wants what it wants but not always what it needs--

        And when all is said and done, I want for nothing more than what will be.

A million times I wish to be the girl everyone loves.

Yet million times I find that there is nothing more important I can be than 

     a silly, sentimental girl.

There are many times I feel like such a sap. However, I find comfort in the thought that there are others like me out there so I am not alone in my sappiness.

There are moments when I can't stop crying to save my life, times when I just ooze sentimentality...I LOVE a good dose of emotion, even the ugly kinds of emotion. My husband lovingly calls me an emotional junkie. You know what? He's right. He hit the nail on the head. This, coming from a man who rarely shows emotion. He's very stable and good and kind--but rarely does he cry or get angry, let alone show it. He has been good for these past 15 years to calmly and patiently put up with my bouts of whatever emotional whim comes his way, via me. Yes, there are times he thinks I'm silly, but would never tell me so. I have learned not to become angry at his lack of emotional reaction and I have also learned that it is GOOD that we are so opposite considering our emotional habits. Our house would be a freaking crucible if we were both emotional junkies.

Trying to process emotions in a healthy way is tricky. There's a fine balance that has to be considered and generally, I have found, it is selfishness that puts the spin on most all of our emotions, keeping us from the pure meaning behind what we are feeling. It's been a long road but I can finally say: Yes. I enjoy the whole spectrum of emotion--I'm even trying to like the uncomfortable emotions. I've learned that they give life the spice that it needs. I don't feel more human or connected to others around me than when we are sharing an experience, FEELING it together. I think they call that "bonding".

I have often wondered what the world would be like if we could all be more aware of our emotions and try not to suppress so much. The idea that a man showing emotion is a weakness has done more than it's fair share of damage. We have learned to stuff the feelings that are hard to deal with far down into the deepest, darkest corners of our souls. We are embarrassed to have others see us cry. Isn't it interesting that these normal, natural human responses can keep us from feeling what we need to feel? I am convinced that we, as a world, have become emotionally numb and it has taken thousands of years for it to become as defined as it is now. Somewhere in my little mind, I know that so many of the atrocities against one another could be prevented if we were all a little more feeling. A little more aware, a little less stone-like. Our human emotions are dying. Mothers killing their children. Husbands beating their wives. Dictators destroying their own subjects. Countries at war. Terrorists persecuting anyone in their path. Bullying in the school yard. Infidelity. Sexual abuse. Gossip. Embezzlement. Riots. You name it, we've got it going on at an emotionally bankrupt level. When you don't think it could get any worse, it does. We're destroying ourselves, slowly but surely.

So I will keep on keeping on as an emotional junkie and I hope they never find a need to rehab that.

The Trenches

I work full time at Ogden Regional Medical Center.  What do I do there, you ask?  I am a Phlebotomist.  For those of you who don't know what that is, think of this:  the person that comes at you with a pointy needle in their hand to draw your precious, precious blood.  Yes, that is what I do.

My schedule is somewhat hairy.  I work 70 hours in a 7 day time period.  Fortunately those 7 days are broken up a bit.  I work 50 hours then have 2 days off and then I work 20 hours and have 5 days off.  Today is the beginning of my 50 hours.  5 days--10 hours a day.  I lovingly call these 5 days on "The Trenches".  And honestly, I couldn't have chosen a better term than that.

I quickly learned that I am perhaps the most hated person in the hospital.  If I come to your room, it is only for one thing...and in order to get that one thing, I need to poke you with a sharp instrument.  You wouldn't believe how many times I get sworn at and yelled at and angry at.  Just for walking in the room.  As if I do this for the hell of it.  Why wouldn't I want to poke people and make them bleed?  It's a great way to pass the time.  Pshaw.

Let me just pass a few things along for you consideration the next time you have to have your blood drawn.

1. More often than not, our minds make blood drawing out to be more painful and scary than it really is.  Just breathe!  It will soon be over and you'll think "Wow! That wasn't as painful and scary as I thought it would be!  Thanks friendly neighborhood Phlebotomist!"
2. When a phlebotomist misses your vein, and sometimes we will, it is not on purpose, nor is it to torture you.  Unless you are a jerk.  Then maybe it is.  I'm just sayin'.
3. Your doctor has ordered the tests for a reason.  People forget that I am there on the Dr.'s orders and that my contribution will (hopefully) ultimately end in health and wholeness for them.  
4. Enough with the VAMPIRE jokes, already!!! I don't drink the damn blood!  Please come up with some new material.

Now, for those of you who are squeamish at the sight of blood, I propose this to think about.  Blood is amazing.  It is absolutely amazing.  There are thousands and thousands of tests that can be done on it to pinpoint what is happening in your body.  It changes daily--hourly--and reflects your overall health with those changes.  It is life.  It sustains and gives us life.  Under a microscope it is pretty cool.  Heavenly Father knew what he was doing when he created the human body.  Amazing stuff and highly under-rated.  

This little profession of mine has spilled over into my every day life in odd ways.  I am forever catching myself eyeballing peoples hands and arms for veins.  I have a lot of repenting to do as well because I find myself coveting those veins and wanting to draw them.  That is considered a sin, right?  Vein coveting? My family thinks I'm sick in the head.  I plead the 5th.

I have seen some sad and scary and gory things in this little adventure of mine.  I see things I never thought I would see.  Some days I weep.  Some days I have to shake my head and laugh.  Some days I come home numb.   However, inevitably, I always return home after a long day in the trenches and am thankful for the gifts and blessings I have in my life.  Health and wholeness and safety.  Then I'm ready to poke some more.

Redemption

For those of you who know me, you will know that I have struggled with depression. It has been a very ugly battle...but it wasn't always this way. It wasn't until the birth of my fourth child that I experienced a full blown postpartum depression and it seemed to tilt the axis of my world just enough that I have been battling it ever since. 

Last year was the worst of it, shaking my entire belief system and threatening to take me into the darkness. For good. After much help, medication and a great counselor, I have been able to emerge again. I am a changed person and I am still trying to learn who I am. 

This poem was written during the beginning stages of my last major depression. I am a singer and a piano player and the kind of "music therapy" I had come to use and love through my lifetime just wasn't helping like it always had. This is a reflection of me grasping at straws to pull myself to redemption. 

REDEMPTION

Redemption lies between

   the stark ebony and ivory.

Coming in the cadence

   the stanza

   the turn;

Tucked in the octave amidst the

   half and the whole.

Redemption comes among

   warm, worn, well loved melody.

Coming in the pause

   the search

   the attack;

Welcoming as cool turns to fervor

   Fingers slipping over glossy keys.

Redemption comes in the midst

   of the pensive warble

Coming in the reach

   the swell

   the crescendo

Pairing measure with articulated mettle

   Cushioning, sheltering, dolce legato.

Redemption hides in the

   rise of sacred, unassuming anthems.

Coming in flashes troppo

   of brilliance

   of invocation;

Infusing emptiness and desolation internal

   Healing blemishes consummate to overflowing.

Redemption comes with each inflection

   wafting--heaven bound.

   It is perfect solace in its earthly entry;

Ebbing its flow to decrescendo.

   Unredeemed

Even now my music doesn't redeem me like it once did. I miss it. However, I am finding new ways and learning about things that are opening up my experience...and I am really enjoying them. 

Hello new, improved Jen?

Pardon My Dust

Okay.  So.  Here's the deal.

I am not perfect.  Whoa.  I know!  Big surprise there.

Not only am I not perfect, but I am also very rough around the edges...I almost cry out for a good sanding.  Almost, that is.  Somehow, I feel that being rough around the edges is what makes us human and attractive and individual.  

But, my point is....I make huge grammatical errors, I spell words wrong, I have run on sentences and incomplete sentences GALORE and I love to use these little dots....all of the time...  There is more, so much more, that goes wrong with my writing.  I hope that the good redeems the lousy.

What this entire little post is meant to say is: I am a work in progress.  This blog is a work in progress.  Please pardon my dust.