The Best Prize of All…and It Ain’t a Candy Bar

My youngest sister, Natalie, and I are only two years apart. There is a large age gap between us and our older siblings. Because of that, Natalie and I pretty much spent our childhood stuck together. If I went to a friend’s house, she came with me. If I got a new dress, she got a matching one. If I got a treat, she got one too. My mom said I was fortunate because I didn’t have to find a friend; I already had one built-in. At the age of 9, that was not how I saw things.

NBC/Wifflegif.com

NBC/Wifflegif.com

Just like every other kid in existence, I lived for the summer. No school, sleep in, play outside until you were likely to get second-degree burn on your feet (if you grew up in Arizona, you know what I’m talking about…). I loved summers. The highlight of each summer was the Ward Camp-out. Every summer, our church would have a camp-out one weekend of the summer. We all would head to Mt. Graham and sleep in tents or cabins. We were one of the lucky families that had access to a cabin. I love the mountains, but I’m not a fan of using a tree as my toilet. No way was I taking my chances of getting smacked around while trying to do my business. We all know trees are the guardians of the forest. They also have a wicked mean streak. Case in point:

MGM/FYEAH-WIZARD-OF-OZ.TUMBLR.COM

MGM/FYEAH-WIZARD-OF-OZ.TUMBLR.COM

Anyhow, I digress…the absolute highlight of the camp-out was the Saturday morning breakfast and games. Everyone would get together, pitch in, and make an awesome pancake breakfast. Afterwards, the kids got to play games.

The summer I was 9, it was announced that there would be a race. The winner would earn bragging rights for a whole year AND a giant-sized 100 Grand candy bar. From the moment I heard about the race, I started training. Go ahead and laugh but I REALLY wanted to win. You see, I was never very athletic, but at age 9 I was pretty fast. Everyone around me was athletic, musically talented, super-smart, but I was just run-of-the-mill-so-plain-it-hurts ordinary. I HAD to win this race. I would run laps around the empty lot next to our house. I even ran up and down our basement stairs until I got yelled at for making too much noise. I kept working at it. I was determined. It was going to be the best summer ever. I was going to win. I could totally see it. Cue “Chariots of Fire” music please…

giphy.com

giphy.com

You’re probably asking yourself, “What does this all have to do with her sister? Should we tell Becky she’s babbling again?” I’m getting to it…just be patient. Oh, and it’s not babbling. It’s called creative wordsmithing (…it could be a word…) So, as I was saying, I was ready. The camp-out Saturday breakfast and games arrived. I quickly ate my breakfast; I was too eager to take my time. In agony, I had to wait for them to play the little kid games first. How could they not know just how major this race was?! Finally, the moment came, and they called for the older kids to line up. I got in my place and started to focus – every good runner gets in the zone before a big race. I was just about there, when I realized there was someone standing annoyingly close to me – that should have been my first clue. Who could it be? Yep. You guessed it. Natalie was standing next to me ready to run the race. She saw me lining up, so she wanted to line up too. I tried to argue with the adults that this was a big kid event, and she was a little kid but that didn’t get me anywhere. I resolved to just suck it up and focus. This was my summer. I was determined. I was going to win.

Once we were all lined up, one of the adults went down to the finish line with a flag to give us the start signal. I crouched down – poised and ready to bolt. “On your mark. Get set. Go!” I shot out of there like a speeding bullet. This race was mine and I knew it. All of my hard work was going to pay off. I was ahead of everyone!! I was so far ahead it was like I was running at light speed. I was UNBEATABLE!

giphy.com

giphy.com

The finish line was in sight when I heard a cry. It was a cry I knew all too well. It was Natalie. I quickly looked behind me and saw that she had indeed fallen and scraped her knees up pretty badly. I’d like to say that I immediately ran to her, but I’d be lying. I did have a moment when I just continued on to that finish line…but I couldn’t. I turned around and ran back towards Natalie. While I did, all of the rest of the kids crossed the finish line. Someone else was getting my win. Someone else was getting my bragging rights. Someone else was getting my candy bar. I got to Natalie, helped her stand up, and held on to her as she hobbled back to my mom. Once my mom had her, I sat back and sulked. While my mom was fussing over Natalie’s knees, I was watching the other kids surrounding the winner. Man! It should’ve been me.

I was so bummed. Natalie walked up to me – bandaged knees and all – and gave me a hug. “What’d you do that for?” I grumbled at her. “You picked me up.” With that reply, she bounced on her merry way. While I was trying to digest that moment, the adult who was in charge of the race, came over to me, and put a 100 Grand candy bar in my lap. Confused, I asked her why she gave me the candy bar. I didn’t win the race; therefore, I shouldn’t get a prize. The adult looked at Natalie and then looked at me and said, “Actually, you got the best prize of all.” Then she walked off. What kind of weird kung fu moment was that? I wondered if she was coming back to tell me to I could go “When you can take the pebble from my hand”. Whatever, Master Kan. I had my candy bar and I was going to enjoy the heck out of it.

SOURCE: M-HELENAPINTO.TUMBLR.COM

SOURCE: M-HELENAPINTO.TUMBLR.COM

At least that was my plan…as I sat down to eat that candy bar, Natalie was by my side asking for me to share. Like the good sister I was (and still am…I hope…), I split it in two pieces and, of course, gave her the bigger piece. With chocolate on our hands and faces, we went off to play and that was that.

It wasn’t until years later that I understood what “the best prize of all” meant. What I understand now, that I didn’t understand then was that the love of my sister was (is) the prize. Natalie and I have been through more things than I have time (or inclination) to mention. We have endured more pain and heartache than I would wish on anyone. The reason that we made it through (relatively) intact was because we had each other. Numerous times, she has said that I saved her, that I carried her, that I was the reason we made it – that is not the case. We saved each other, carried each other, and each was the reason the other made it through. Why? How? The answer is simple. We both had the best prize of all – the love of a sister.

Is that cheesy? Perhaps. If you don’t have a sister (or a brother), you may not get it and that’s okay. All I know is that even after all these years, I will still always give her the bigger piece of the candy bar…because that’s what sisters do.

10325300_10202213056553879_6737868791388695680_n

An Open Letter to Cancer

hey cancer

Dear Cancer,

I have had enough of you. I’ve been patiently waiting for you to just slip out of existence, but you just keep going after people I love. Take a hint. I HATE YOU. I don’t think I ever hated anything until you came along. I tried – really tried – to give you the benefit of the doubt. I’ve blamed illnesses on lifestyle, age, or just the luck of the draw. No more. It’s all you. You and I are done.

When I was twelve, you came after one of my cherished, childhood friends. I didn’t really understand what was going on. You were so brutal; you took her before I had a chance to say goodbye. She was beautiful, talented, and sweeter than anyone I knew. She was my best friend. I needed her. You took her. She did NOT deserve to die. So, I repeat, I HATE YOU.

As a teen, you made one of my best friend’s mother suffer. You drug out her illness for what felt like years. You gave us false hope and then broke our hearts all over again. She had three beautiful daughters and a loving husband. They needed her and you took her. They still hurt. You are cold, uncaring, and selfish. I HATE YOU.

After I had my babies, you thought it would be fun to give me a little scare. I lucked out and you left me alone. But, you know what? Even before I knew you weren’t going to hurt me, I decided I wasn’t going down without a fight. I’d had enough of your crap. You were not taking me from my babies. You cared nothing for me, but I HATED YOU.

Last year, you decided to go after my friend. How dare you! He has a wife and a beautiful daughter. You seem to take joy in taking him bit by bit – piece by piece. You’ve taken his energy and some of his abilities. You want your victims weak and helpless. Guess what? He may be weak, but he’s not helpless. He’s fighting back, and that pisses you off, doesn’t it? HE HATES YOU TOO. You may eventually get him, but he is a fighter. When he is too weak to take a swing at you, we will be his arms. When he can no longer yell at you, we will be his voice. We are coming for you.

Three days ago I received a phone call…apparently you just can’t leave my loved ones alone. The beautiful woman who you are trying to take? She is NOT going to let you win. WE are not going to let you win. She has a husband and kids pulling for her. She has sisters and brothers to lean on. She has us, and you CANNOT have her. You may have taken some of her sight and even some of her strength but the tumor is gone. Surgery was successful. She may be weak, but you WILL NOT TAKE HER. You are not going to win this one. You CANNOT take another piece of my heart. I HATE YOU.

You have taken so many people I have loved – so many people who have touched my life. No more. I’m serious. You are on notice. I am pissed. I will do anything and everything I can. I may not be a doctor or a scientist but I can help charities and research. I can help promote good health in myself and others. I can help raise awareness. You are evil and sneaky, but YOU are the weak one. I’m coming for you and, yes, you should be scared. I may be small, but I fight dirty. Watch your a$$. You’re going down.

Kiss off,

Becky

What Sam Heughan Caused 400+ Women To Do

…and it’s not what you’re thinking. (Although, you’re probably right with wherever your train of thought was going.)

January of this year, Sam Heughan (Outlander actor) issued a fitness challenge – My Peak Challenge. I’d been trying to find motivation to make a change, get moving, lose weight, and get healthy. I figured if a Scottish hottie couldn’t get me motivated then there was something wrong with me. Case in point….

gettyimages

Ummm….what was I saying?

I signed up for My Peak Challenge but found myself not sure how to proceed. I needed more…I just wasn’t sure of what. On Twitter (yay social media!), @MyPeakChallenge mentioned a Facebook group called ThePeakPosse who were helping each other with their challenges. I looked it up, asked to join, and got so much more than I bargained for – in a great-life-changing-these-women-are-AMAZING- way.

ThePeakPosse is the handiwork of Ms. Bonnie Terbush, aka Queen B, aka Bonnie, aka Thou Glorious Goddess of All (I may have made the last one up but it still applies.) Inspired by Sam’s (…oh yes, we’re on a first name basis now…) My Peak Challenge, Bonnie created an email group where several individuals could communicate and motivate. After the first 24 hours, she knew there was NO WAY email was going to cut it – too much interest. Being the organizational genius she is, she created a Facebook group that exploded with interest. As of today, there are 432 freaking awesome women. We talk, motivate, laugh, cry, blush (…what happens in ThePeakPosse, stays in ThePeakPosse…), support, debate, and strengthen each other.
PosseLogoHeughanBlue

 FYI: We call that color “Heughan Blue”😘.

Our Queen B had a vision that went above and beyond fitness and motivation. She foresaw us being a force to be reckoned with. What happens when you get a group of focused, determined women? Pure awesomeness. Sam’s charity was the perfect place to start.

Sam’s My Peak Challenge ran from January to March. During that time, ThePeakPosse worked together not only on our separate challenges but also to help raise money for Sam’s charity – Leukaemia & Lymphoma Research. The purpose of the challenge was to inspire good health and strength all while raising money for LLR. According to Sam’s Twitter page, MPC raised over $100,000 for the charity. ThePeakPosse’s contribution? $25,588.5. Holy crap, right? Just wait…there’s more.

11721279_10206100217218048_899936370_n

Once MPC was over, ThePeakPosse’s fearless leader, Ms. Bonnie, decided it was time to do something for the lovely Caitriona Balfe’s (Outlander actress) charity – World Child Cancer. Were ThePeakPosse on board? Faster than you could say “Sassenach”! So, from April through May, we gave it our all. What did the efforts of our tremendous group of women bring? Oh, only $17,402.58. You need a minute to appreciate our awesomeness? Go ahead. I’ll wait….cue Jeopardy music… You okay now?wcc

Following the end of the campaign for WCC, we held to the whole “rolling stone gathers no moss” theory – no idleness here. The decision was made to focus on Graham McTavish’s (Outlander actor – are you seeing a pattern here?) charity – Action for Children. You can bet your sweet corn-grinder we are all on board with that idea. So, from July to the end of August, we are doing what we can to raise funds for Action for Children. What are we doing and how can you help? Well aren’t you so sweet. I’m glad you asked.

  1. You can make a donation at www.justgiving.com/ThePeakPosseActionForChildren  SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS: The donations on this site are being generously matched by Macquarie, the employer of Heather Lee Ying (ThePeakPosse lassie). In order for the match to occur, please include the following statement within your donation: “IN SUPPORT OF THE FUND RAISING EFFORTS, THEPEAKPOSSE/HEATHER L.Y Macquarie has matched our donations for other charities. They are beyond amazing!
  2. Enter to win the basket at www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/7c3e22083/  Seriously, the basket contains MIND-BLOWING-AMAZING GIFTS. Everything has been donated by the actors, Mr. Ron Moore and Outlander fans, including members of ThePeakPosse.
  3. We have a Zazzle store (which will stay open indefinitely) with very awesome items (t-shirts and flip-flops and key chains, oh my!): www.zazzle.com/thepeakpossegear
  4. Bonnie created an awesome Action for Children shirt/tank. The best part? It has Graham McTavish’s signature. (Printed – he can’t sign every shirt…that would be so amazing though!!!) You can find it here: www.zazzle.com/action_for_children_graham_mctavish_shirt-235856622228502729
  5. We also have an embroidered hat campaign through Booster featuring ThePeakPosse’s official logo. If you want a hat, you’d better hurry. The hat campaign closes August 7: www.booster.com/thepeakpossehat

All proceeds from Zazzle and Booster go to Action for Children.

Phew! That was a lot of info. We are hoping for a repeat of our prior successes. We would love for you to help out. It’s for an awesome program. They provide wonderful support for children. (Yes, that was a moment of shameless emotional blackmail. Did it work? Maybe a look at what’s in the basket will help…)

whats in the basket

So yes, it all started with Sam’s fitness brainchild but ThePeakPosse has become so much more. I asked Bonnie why she did what she did. Her own words explain better than my paraphrasing ever could:

“I wanted to go beyond Sam’s charity because the show [Outlander] is extraordinary and, in a way, this is my way of giving back to the them. I mean, what can I give them that they don’t already have? I know it sounds a bit corny but if it wasn’t for Diana’s books and the series, I wouldn’t have met so many extraordinary women who have brought me so much love, laughter, support and opportunities to my life. It’s also phenomenal to interact with people from the organization and see first hand where the money is going, how it’s helping the various organizations.”

ThePeakPosse girls feel the same about you, Bonnie. All I can add is that ThePeakPosse has given me so much more than I had planned. It has helped me with my health and not just physically. It has reminded me that one of our purposes in life is to help others along the way. Even though we were inspired by Outlander and spurred into action by a hot Scot, sisterhood and charity are our foundation.

To my sisters, my circle of women, thank you for allowing it.

circle of women

For more information (and all those important links):

Facebook page: Outlander – The Peak Posse Charity Fundraiser

To donate: www.justgiving.com/ThePeakPosseActionForChildren

To enter to win the basket: www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/7c3e22083/

Zazzle store: www.zazzle.com/thepeakpossegear

Graham McTavish/Action for Children tee: www.zazzle.com/action_for_children_graham_mctavish_shirt-235856622228502729

Booster campaign (Ending 8/7/15): www.booster.com/thepeakpossehat

https://www.actionforchildren.org.uk

http://www.worldchildcancer.org

https://leukaemialymphomaresearch.org.uk

Sam Heughan Photo Credit: Getty Images

Love and Relationships: Looney Tunes Style

My little sister and I watched A LOT of cartoons when we were kids. We have discovered our behavior and vernacular have been greatly influenced by those hours zoned out on TV. The other day at work it occurred to me that The Looney Tunes taught me quite a bit about love and relationships. Go ahead and laugh. I’m totally serious. I wrote a piece addressing that influence and posted it to my BuzzFeed account. You can get to it here: http://www.buzzfeed.com/rph36/love-and-relationships-looney-tunes-style-1lgfr

IMG_0584You really should check it out. I mean, it’s The Looney Tunes. Who doesn’t love The Looney Tunes? If the answer bubbling on your lips is that you DON’T, you might want to keep that tidbit to yourself. We Looney Tunes lovers tend to be a bit impulsive. Something about anvils, dynamite, and falling off cliffs come to mind…

wile_coyote

Mirror, You Can Kiss My (Looking Gl)ass

The mirror and I have a Hate Relationship. Yes, I said it correctly. There is no Love between us. I have perfected the art of looking in the mirror without truly seeing myself. I can do my hair and avoid looking at my face and body. I can put on makeup and focus on sections of my face at a time. I can check my outfit without taking in the whole view. The mirror is a necessary evil and the camera is its malicious cousin. I don’t think I know one person (…it’s not just women…) who actually enjoys mirror time. Well, maybe Caitriona Balfe. Have you seen her?! I mean if I was her, I would take my time to appreciate my exquisite gorgeousness. Long legs, flawless skin, beautiful mouth…things just got weird, didn’t they. Sorry. Anyhow….

Mirrors can be scary but looking is imperative. No one wants to walk around with a bat in the cave (booger in your nose for those of you who don’t speak immature-13-year-old) or leftovers in his/her teeth (I’m all about not wasting food but broccoli stores better in styrofoam than it does stuck to the side of your incisors). I do have moments when I can look and think my kangaroo pouch (what I lovingly call the stomach four pregnancies gifted me) doesn’t look too ginormous. For the most part, I leave the house thinking I’m doing okay only to come home, glance in the mirror, and notice a zit or the fact that I have half-deflated hair. Any of that sound familiar?

funny-gif-look-all-day-mirror

This past week I was part of a wake-up call conversation. Someone posed the question, “Have you ever looked in the mirror and been truly ashamed at what you saw?” The fact that the question was asked wasn’t what made me pause. The fact that I silently answered “Yes” to myself did. That really made me think. Has there ever been a time I’ve looked in the mirror and have actually liked what I’ve seen? I honesty could only think of two occasions. That is a BAD thing. I have two teenage girls. How am I supposed to prevent their self-assessments from being grossly distorted when I can’t do that for myself?

funny-sign-mirror-reflection-beauty

After I reflected (I swear, pun not intended) on that startling conversation, Through The Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll came to mind. I know what you’re thinking – BOOK NERD ALERT! Stay with me. I’m about to make a point…at least I’m going to try to. The beginning of the story has Alice pondering on the reflections in the looking glass. She eventually goes through the looking glass to discover things are very different – opposite – of what they “should” be. I looked up the word “looking glass”. (You’re not snoring are you? Seriously, hang in there…) A looking glass is defined as a mirror; however, (and more importantly) it is defined as “being or involving the opposite of what is normal or expected.” Thank you very much, Google dictionary. We don’t need mirrors; we need looking glasses.

Unfortunately, when we look at our reflections, we bring expectations, hopes, definitions, and standards with us. What’s even worse is that 98% (…probably closer 100%) of the time those expectations, definitions, and standards come from some outside source AND ARE TOTALLY UNREALISTIC. My husband tells me on a daily basis (sometimes numerous times within a day) how beautiful I am and how sexy I am (..kids, if you’re reading this, you can stop the eye-rolling and gagging noises…). After 16 years, I don’t know if I’ve ever truly believed him. That seriously is ridiculous, right? What about you? What do you do when someone compliments you? That’s what I thought. Time to get a looking glass.

Fashion magazines tell us skinny (dangerously so) is normal. Ads tell us perfect, firm boobs busting out of our tops is normal. Society tells us long, tan legs and perfectly, round butt cheeks peeking out of our shorts is normal. Well guess what? I’m not skinny. My boobs haven’t been perfect, like ever and they sure as heck aren’t firm anymore (another token from four pregnancies). I have NEVER had long legs (hard to accomplish at 5’2″). I definitely have never been tan…sunburned, but never tan. If I wore short enough shorts, my butt cheeks would be peeking out – not because of the length of the shorts but because of gravity. So, according to most fashion and Hollywood standards, I’m a pale, saggy, gravity-victimized, Hobbit-like freak. For those of you who know me, is that how you see me? We need to see ourselves for the awesome creatures we are. Please, pull out the looking glass.

We need to go from seeing ourselves like this:
Silly_Mirror

To seeing the truth like this: funny-cat-look-mirror-540x600

It’s not going to happen overnight. Self-depreciating humor is my forte. I can belittle and make fun of myself like nobody’s business. Seriously, if I could make a career of it, I would be a bagizziolionare (That’s a word, right?). We need to stop seeing the horrible ugliness and inadequacies that we have grown to expect. Take your mirror and stomp it in to a million little shards (metaphorically speaking – I REALLY hope you saw the metaphorical part before moving on…). It’s time to use the looking glass. It’s time to see what is opposite of what is “normal” or expected. Now, if you are one of the fortunate few who actually like (or at least not really mind) what you see in the mirror, keep it up. You rock!! You have perfected the art of using a looking glass properly. Use your powers for good and try to pass those skills to another. For everyone else, when you are confronted with your reflection and those nasty, negative, self-judegments start to flow, I want you to repeat after me, “Mirror, you can kiss my (looking gl)ass.” (I cleaned it up for the kids…feel free to alter to your needs.) From here on out, your only problem should be:

funny-hugging-someone-awesome-mirror

That’s right, you sexy beast. YOU. ARE. BEAUTIFUL.

Outlander Life Lessons From Season One

Now that season one is over, I thought it was a good time to reflect on some important Outlander Life Lessons. Instead of putting the full post here, I submitted it to BuzzFeed’s website. If you are in need of a few laughs, head on over that way: http://www.buzzfeed.com/rph36/outlander-life-lessons-from-season-one-1lgfr

WARNING: Post contains a few profanities. Do not read if such things offend you.

enhanced-16425-1433190587-24

The Ladmo Bag: Proof That It’s Never Too Late

Did someone say Ladmo Bag?! OMG!!! Pick me! Pick me!

Ladmobag

Don’t know what a Ladmo Bag is? Lemme ‘splain.  Growing up, I lived in Arizona. I lived in the “olden times” (as my kids like to put it) when TV had maybe 10 channels. For my sister and I, there really was only one channel that mattered. Well, really it was just one show that mattered: The Wallace and Ladmo Show. It was a local television show filmed in Phoenix, Arizona. Basically, it was a sketch show for kids with cartoons shown within the time slot. That was great and everything, but the real reason to watch the Wallace and Ladmo show? Waiting to find out who was picked for the pinnacle of childhood – The Ladmo Bag.

The coveted Ladmo Bag was full of candy, soda, and other prizes. Along with it came the prestige of being the glorious, chosen one. You didn’t have to be in the audience to win. You could send in a postcard with your name and address. My sister and I probably sent 100s if not 1000s of postcards wishing for a win. At the end of each show, we would sit. And wait. And sweat. And pray. It was anxiety and anticipation like no other. Will they call my name? Will today FINALLY be my day?

farage-sweating

We knew that if our names were ever chosen, we would wear the mantle of the chosen one with pride and dignity…right after we rubbed it in everyone’s faces. We dreamed of that moment. Day after day. Month after month. Year after year. The Ladmo Bag goes to……it was always some other kid who wasn’t me or my sister. Every. Single. Time. We tried to be strong and not show our disappointment but….COME ON! We were good kids. We sorta cleaned our rooms. The dishes were washed most of the time. When we fought with each other, we hardly ever drew blood. Why not us?

1189

Alas…for all of the postcards written, postage paid, and episodes watched, we never won. Then the show ended. No more chances to get a Ladmo Bag. We were crushed. How could it be over? How could we have NEVER gotten a Ladmo bag? The quest for the coveted Ladmo Bag was done. How were we supposed to go on living knowing there would never be another chance?!

63791_disappointed-movies-sad-the-lord-of-the-rings-frodo

As things usually are in childhood, we cried for a few days, got yelled at for our whining, and eventually moved on. Well, we moved on the best we could. I don’t think anyone ever got over wanting a Ladmo Bag. Seriously, I still get this little pain in my chest when I think about it. Makes it hard to breathe. What? Shut up! I’m telling you a Ladmo Bag was a big deal.

Fast forward 25+ years (please do not feel the need to do any math to guesstimate how old I may be). The desire for the Ladmo Bag? Still alive and kicking. My sister reminisced, complained, whined, and whatever-else-enough that my awesome brother-in-law decided she needed a Ladmo Bag for her birthday. (Seriously…how awesome is that?!) He researched the legendary Ladmo Bag and recreated it to a T. He gave it to her. She loved it. It was awesome. I still don’t have one. *HINT, HINT*

Anyway, the whole getting a Ladmo Bag 25+ years later got me thinking all philosophical and stuff. If something as epic as a Ladmo Bag could happen decades later (…again…no need for math here…), what else could still be possible? Successful career? Finally being able to perfect the Roger Rabbit (…it’s dance move people…keep up!…)? Being an astronaut for NASA? On second thought, scratch the NASA one. Four kids totally ruined my stomach. I can’t even go on the Ferris Wheel without the urge to hurl now. Of course, NASA might be more feasible than perfecting the Roger Rabbit. Seriously…I look like a turkey walking backwards when I try to do it (…and that’s on a good day…).

Anyhow, I feel like there comes a point in our lives when we look around, shrug our shoulders, and say, “Oh, well. Too late now.” Why do we do that? Don’t worry it’s not just you. I totally do it to…but I’m working on it. I feel like I’ve woken up, looked around, and realized I can do better than this. There is so much we are capable if we would stop talking ourselves out of it. I mean, I totally could still get a Ladmo Bag, right? Right?! (…please say yes, please say yes…)

So, I want you stop what you’re doing and think about something you really want to do. (…don’t stop right this second…I mean, it’s only polite to at least finish reading my post…) Figure your something out. What’s your Ladmo Bag? I’m working on mine. There are going to be moments when you get discouraged. You’re going to start to question yourself. I don’t want to hear any of this, “Well, it’s too late” or “That ship has sailed”. It’s all about you now. What you want. What you dream. It can happen. It is not too late. Who’s got the power?

bruce-almighty-got-the-power

Darn straight…now go get that Ladmo Bag.