Long time gone

I haven't wrote in close to a year, actually it's not that I haven't had anything to write about. I guess I mainly write to clear things out in my own head, and honestly I had no desire to write. Last night was the first night that I thought about writing, this time it wasn't about my kids, or my animals. It was basically on how numb I am over the news about my Grace. People tell me that I am so strong, and that I am inspirational. I hate to break it to you, but I am neither of those. I have cried more tears in the last two days than I can remember in a long time. My eyes were so puffy today that I even put Preperation H on them to take down the swelling. I am not sure if it helped, actually I cried harder because I got some in my eyes. It kinda felt good to cry then, at least then I was crying because of a physical pain. I am mad, actually pretty pissed off. I don't understand, and my faith is being tested. I am praying so much these days, and honestly I don't even know what I am praying for, or who I am praying too. It seems as though I am praying to the same person that is allowing cancer to take over her body to save her? Her family is my family, and I love them. I love her like I love my own children. I know the fear of losing a child. It was 3 years ago and I sat along side of Hannah's bed when she was in ICU and the Doctor told me that I needed to pray. At that point I had the real fear of losing my child. I have that same fear of losing Grace. I keep my phone right along side of me at night in case she texts me. Because I am so scared of the day that she isn't going to be there. Yes we got the diagnosis last Summer and this trial was simply that a trial. But it gave us hope! I don't freaking understand how we can live in the year 2014 and we can take our phones press a button and in a matter of seconds FaceTime with someone that clear across the world, but still we can't find a cure for something that is way more important than that. I am so angry with God. I know that I haven't always leaned on him when I should have. I haven't always listened to his words, but isn't your parent's suppose to love you no matter what? Aren't they suppose to always want what's best for their child. Well God - Grace is your child too, and where are you? Where are you? If your beside her, well maybe you should take your hands and rip that damn cancer out of her. She needs to live, I need her to live, I want her to live for her family. She has so much to offer this world, and she is a child God. She is your child. It's hard not to break right now. I am scared, I am so scared.

High Heels and Dirty Dishes # 13

I would really like to know when my life went from I don’t know what I should do today, to not being sure if I brushed my teeth or if I put a bra on because I didn’t have time. For the love of God my life has to slow down a little bit. It is 11:30 at night, and my mind is swarming on all sorts of stuff that I should be doing. The most important thing is that I leave for our annual Bjerklie girl’s trip to Apple Fest in the morning, a mind free laughter weekend with two moms and their daughters. Don’t expect stories to appear in this column. I know my place in this world, and well in this case it is to SHUT MY MOUTH. It’s not a Girls Gone Wild weekend, but is not an Amish quilting gathering either. I guess I am going to have to leave it to your imagination, cause in the case Vomit Mouth and Allie Enge can’t be used in the same sentence. I can tell you that we all exchange gifts and mine is pretty cool. They are all getting screen printed tees with my High Heels and Dirty Dishes logo, and the back there is different sayings for each one. My mom’s shirt says “Go braless, it will pull the wrinkles right out of your face”. I am sure that she won’t talk to me for a couple of days after she reads that I wrote about it. I asked her today if she liked my article from last week and her words, “Well I am still talking to you”. I like I mine too, it says “May you live long enough to poop yourself”, but the “S” word was actually used. I laughed so hard when I saw that saying I had to cross my legs. I think that it was very fitting! No new drama with my kids this week, so either I am doing a better job of zoning them out or they have been sick without me knowing it. My son did tell me this week that he is going to start writing about me, and I told him to go for it. Anything to get that kid to write in complete sentences has me excited. When you put it that way I have a feeling that if I don’t watch it Keisha and Janice are going to fight back and start their own column about me. This time there will not be any “Fake” names. Even though I am honest, there is a lot that they could bury me with. They definitely know way too much about me for me to ever think about ending our friendship. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I am talking about, we all have friends like that. I did have a couple of tough days this week, and when I get upset or discouraged I feel the symptoms of my stroke so strongly. I just want to be normal, I want to remember where I put my keys, my phone, to turn off the oven, where I set down my purse, and so on. I feel like my Grandma Rose looking for her false teeth every morning. It is hard for those that live with me, and it is really hard not having a mental breakdown. I want to be normal, I want to feel that I am not a burden, that I am someone that people want to be around instead of being known as the one that is really forgetful. Not fun and it is starting to wear on my self-esteem. As much as we want people in life to like us, I just want to be able to wake in the morning and not have to tell myself that today is going to be a better day, that I am going to get better, and that I am not going to feel worthless because of my inability to remember even the simplest things. You see my life isn’t always about High Heels and Dirty Dishes. Most of the time I have no idea where the other heel is, and the dishes are usually in the dishwasher because I hate unloading it. Until next week my friends. Allison Enge www.facebook.com/highheelsanddirtydishesbyallie

High Heels and Dirty Dishes

For so long in life I tried to find myself, and really define who I was. I for so long didn't know where I belonged in this world. I have at this point ended my weekly column, and I really have no regrets or any ill feelings toward the newspaper. It was my Segway into me realizing that writing made me happy. I know that some people are upset about me stopping, but the truth is I do write about real things, and real can be scary. So maybe everyone didn't like what I wrote about. But these are the people that obviously don't go to the bathroom, have experienced facial hair, adult acne, teenage kids, or friends that know way too much about you. I could change my writings, but you know what I won't do it. I have come too far down in my road trip of life to ever go back down that road ever again. I went down some pretty crappy roads too. Many of them with dead ends that weren't marked, some terrible frost bubbles, and let's not forget about the road that ended up nowhere so I have to drive in reverse the entire way just to realize that the road I should have taken was looking me right in the eye. What I write about is relatable, and people like to be able to relate to something. I find that it makes situations less uncomfortable and people are truly themselves. I could have caved and went with the "Norm", but lets be truthful there is nothing normal about life these days. I am honored to be able to write, and maybe this blog will not get the circulation that the paper received. That's ok, because the moment that I start writing for other people instead of myself . . . well the moment that I need to stop take a look around and smell the vodka injected oranges. . . cause they do smell as good as they taste.

High Heels and Dirty Dishes #12

I realized this week that ignorance truly is the best way to live a happy life. I’m telling you this whole being an adult thing is definitely over rated. It is a good thing that I don’t listen to what the voices in my head tell me to do, it is when I do that I get myself in TROUBLE! Please don’t roll your eyes, doesn’t everyone talk to themselves in their head. . . and have conversations . . . and make new friends. . .and exchange recipes. . . and talk about how much they LOVE Blake Shelton? Sometimes the voices in my head is my very best friend. Smile if you agree, if you don’t. Well people I had a stroke, and MAJOR brain surgery! I am kidding, I think? So last Friday my son and I went to the Rodney Atkins concert, and we had meet and greet passes. We had so much fun, but of course you put me in any type of social situation and one of three things are going to happen. 1. My colon will decide to explode. 2. My governor on my filter of my brain which regulates my mouth from my stroke will decide to fail, and I will babble. 3. Something embarrassing will happen to me and out of nervousness I will say the “F” word loudly in front of the wrong audience. Sometimes all 3 happen, and when that happens I usually say that I am Keisha. I went for a spray tan last Friday, and the thing with spray tans is that they are wonderful BUT the first day you basically until you wash go through every ethnic skin tone possible. I start out Norwegian White, and by the next morning I looked like I walked out of a jungle in Africa wearing nothing but a loin cloth. I didn’t put a whole lot of thought into the planning of the spray tan and the concert. Well my hair these days is blonde, so at the concert and in the lighting all you could see was the whites of my eyes, my teeth which with a tan are freakishly white, and my hair. So one of the crew members was talking to Nolan and looks at me and says, “You are the blondest Native I have ever seen”. I didn’t know what to say, so then I starting babbling about my stroke, and my spray tan, that I wore a size 8 shoe, and I wrote a column, I own a store, and I really wished they served beer at the casino, and how whoa. . I was having a hot flash. Then Nolan told the guy, this girl is really my aunt. I then babbled some more on how Nolan was a premature baby, and he has a horse, and he plays hockey, and goes on my Twitter account. The whole time he kept on saying, “She is my Aunt”. Then I had to break out, “YOU ARE THE FRUIT OF MY LOIN”. Seriously what is wrong with me??? Oh well, every family has one crazy person. If you don’t think that yours does, look in the mirror cause it might be you. This morning I got up early to get some things done for the upcoming weekend. I sat in my chair enjoying the quiet before the kids got up for school. It was then that I heard the most God awful noise I have ever heard. My daughters cat “Tillie Peterson” is in heat once again, and each time it happens it builds in loudness and intensity of the MEOOOOOOOWWWWW. I decided that it is by far the worst sound ever in this world. So instead of enjoying my 30 minutes of quiet this morning, I listened to the noise come out of Tillie Peterson, while watching my English toy spaniel DOG, “Orville Peterson” think that he was a male cat. Here I thought I had problems! My son asked me when he came in if I made that noise when I wanted to have babies. You can’t make up this kind of stuff people! I didn’t give any big explanation, I told him to brush his teeth. I wonder what it would be like to have a normal family. I am sure that my kids wonder what it would be like to have a normal mom! BORING! Until next week my friends. Allison Enge www.facebook.com/highheelsanddirtydishesbyallie

High Heels and Dirty Dishes #11

When I first started writing this column, I am going to honest I really didn’t know where it is going to go. I figured that if people liked it, GOOD! If people didn’t like it, well they wouldn’t read it. The response has been wonderful, yet scary. Scary in the fact that I am afraid if someone follows me into a public bathroom they are going to wait and see what happens, I can’t poop on demand people. People are really wanting to know who Keisha and Janice are, and for more stories. You see on how open I am about something’s, there are a lot of things that I am not able to talk about. Ok. . . well there are something’s that I would love to tell you . . .but I value the relationship of the few friends that I have left in this world to ever cross that line. I try to keep it tasteful, and never go for the cheap shot. But if I ever do, you will hear it here first. Someone commented to me if I had any dignity, again it was a man. I had a lot of dignity before I pushed out my first child. It seems as though after that it went all out the window. I remember my uncle asking me after the birth how it was. REALLY. . . HOW IT WAS? Did he not realize that I looked like I had been to war. I simply told him it was a lot more fun going in than coming out. He shut his mouth after that, yet still finds humor in reminding me of that comment. I am going to find humor in punching Eve in the jugular. My life is not always humorous, sometimes it down right sucks like everyone else’s. I like to think that everyone else has stuff happen to them too. This week I was feeling a little down in the dumps, so I meant to take some vitamin C. Turns out I took a stool softener instead. Not a good thing to take 30 minutes before having to go to the church. My friend Sheila told me to consider it a “Little Diet” before the weekend. I know for a fact that I am now only one stomach flu away from my ideal weight. I don’t even remember buying stool softener, God how old am I? I will never make that mistake again. If it is not one thing it is the next. I started a Facebook site this week for my column, I was getting all of these friend’s requests from people that I didn’t know. Turns out I now have followers from all over the United States, and a few overseas. There are some really strange people out there though. At one point I was questioning if inmates were allowed to have in the internet in prison. I thank you for the readers for helping me keep it real. So here are some updates from my previous posts that I have been asked questions on. I ended up not being able to do the “Uff Da” Mud run with my friends. Let’s really be honest, there was no way in h e double hockey sticks that my body was ever going to make. I “Fortunately” developed a blood clot. No you read that right, I did say “Fortunately”. I am ok now, God knew that it wasn’t my time to die. My brothers still have not called my parent’s thanking them for giving birth to the best older sister. My mother is again talking to me about the “Old Lady” comment that I made. It took a couple of days, but she is over it. Even at the age of 36 having your mother mad at you is an awful feeling. However, I am a little disappointed that my mother continues to share stories with my teenager on how her mom went trick or treating for beer one year. Really mother??? We need to come to some type of understanding on what is said and what is not said. I won’t bust out the old lady comment, if you don’t bust out. . “When your mother . . . “ It was pretty genius though, trick or treating for beer? I know that it is going to be all over Pinterest next week. Last night my oldest child was beating the pulp out of her brother because he was teasing her about some boyfriend and making it Facebook official. I didn’t even interfere, even after he was on the ground for almost 10 minutes “Hurting”. I yelled from my room, “I did the same thing to Uncle Ryan after I seen him kiss Kim Lambert on the playground and he beat the crap out of me too”. I hate to pick sides, but as I get older I often wonder which one is going to take better care of me and put me in the nice nursing home. (Mom and Dad don’t worry, we have it all figured out. Meaning that Aric always gives the high priced Christmas gifts Lucas and I we figured that he would take care of you better, we promise that we will visit often). Love you Mom, Love you Dad. Until next week my friends, Allison Enge www.facebook.com/highheelsanddirtydishesbyallie

High Heels and Dirty Dishes # 10

Yesterday, (September 9th), I became an aunt again. So instead of writing a column about the ups and downs of my week. I am going to write a letter to my niece Shay. As much as we want to think that we are going to be here till we are old, we may not be. I have been all too close to death, and if tomorrow never comes dear Shay I want you to know your Auntie Allie. Shay - You are never going to remember the day that you were born. One day you will look back at pictures and think of “how little you were”, or “how your dad really should have shaved”, or “maybe on how young your mom looked”. When your daddy came to announce the news that “It’s a girl”, the look on his face was complete happiness. I couldn’t get over that my Lucas was a dad, when I saw your mom with you I knew that she was a natural. No matter how your dad and I would tease each other, he has always held a special place in my heart. I remember the day that he was born, and how I wanted to have a sister. So I would dress him up in my clothes, put Grandma Cheryl’s make-up on him and call him Lucinda. If you go to Grandma’s place look under her bed and in one of the boot boxes you will find pictures, he was not the cutest girl. Then there is your mom. I told her long before your parent’s ever started dating that she was going to be my sister in law. So I like to say that I handpicked her. As you grow up you are going to experience all sorts of things, I hope that I can experience them with you. If you are reading this that means that I am not going to be here in person, but I have some pretty sound advice for you. Make sure that some of your best friends are your cousins. You are now part of the Bjerklie Mafia and we always stick together no matter what. If you are not really strong physically, always be mentally prepared for what is thrown at you. Auntie Kelly and I are known for quick comebacks, (make us proud). No matter what Grandma Cheryl says, don’t let her give you a perm. (In that same box of pictures of your dad are some grade school pictures of me, and they are really really bad, ex: purple sweater, permed on top short in the back hair do). When you get a bike, don’t park it in the back of a pickup or car, all of mine were drove over. Play a musical instrument, no matter how much you want to quit you are always going to regret not sticking through with it. No matter how boring it may seem always pay attention to when your grandma’s are making something that you like to eat, and write down the recipe. One day they are not going to be around and you are not going to be able to call them for a recipe. Go with them every place possible even if it sounds boring, some of my favorite memories were created in a field with Grandma B “borrowing” someone’s carrots. Dress in clothes that make you feel pretty, (ask your dad about the yellow pants that I wore one time). Make sure that you always ask your mom about your Grandpa Gay and your uncle Ryan, and you are not in trouble if she starts crying when you do. When your dad makes supper and if you complain don’t even test the waters if he says, “You eat it, or you wear it”, I seen it happen first hand. If your dad is mad at you and says, “You are just like my sister”, honey turn around and say “THANK YOU”. When you look for a husband look for a man that believes in Jesus, look for a man that is good with animals, a hard worker, one that loves his mom, he needs to make you laugh, a man that loves playing with kids, keeps his promises, makes you feel pretty, one that loves his family, and a man that loves you for you. Now through life you may think that a men like this doesn’t exist. Believe in love at first sight. Honey, your mommy married your daddy and these are all qualities that your daddy has. I will always be only a thought away, and know that I loved you even before you were born. Auntie Allie

High Heels and Dirty Dishes # 9

I have decided that this week that in this “Social Media” age a person can’t breathe without offending anyone. (Mom this does not apply to you). I am all for freedom of speech, because if I wasn’t. . .this article would be pretty boring. This week was my friends 30th birthday and she is “with child”. Or like my father would say, “Knocked up”. Her pregnancies are like mine miserable beyond belief. So instead of a surprise birthday party in which she wouldn’t have been able to consume alcohol she wanted to get tweets from famous people. I aided in this fun and tweeted Al Roker saying that it’s her 30th birthday and she was pregnant and to tweet the knocked up lady. Al in fact did tweet her back, although someone got offended with my verbiage. It was a man that didn’t appreciate that term and went on to say that childbirth was the most beautiful thing ever. Well Mr. Man let me tell you something. Babies are the most beautiful thing ever, CHILDBIRTH IS NOT. If you were a woman that has ever been at the cusp of dying while hearing a Dr. say, “I can feel the head only a couple of more pushes”, which in fact turns out to be two hours later still no baby and you are cussing out Eve for eating an apple in some garden. . . you would understand that. There is nothing beautiful about that moment. I had to laugh when Princess Kate was in labor and the media was reporting what was happening during the labor. I wondered if she looked at Prince William and said, “You ^&*%&%^ you did this to me”. Or was she mad at Eve like I was. No matter what the case I would like to ask her in private amongst friends if she thought that it was “Beautiful”. If and when I get to heaven I am going to get my lady friends together and punch Eve in the jugular, after putting a bushel barrel of apples together and have her eat them in front of us. See how she likes those apples now! If it’s not something that you put on Facebook, or something that you put on Twitter people will eat you alive. . .do they not know I had stroke? I love social media, but there are many times that I often wonder if people would be so brave to tell that person in real life what they write in the “Social Media” world. I am, and that is why in many cases people don’t like me. I am not afraid to confront someone. That makes people really uncomfortable. What makes me smile on the inside is when people know that I know that they know what they said and when they see me they often wonder what she going to say. The end result of that situation really all depends on if I have taken my medication or not. Like Ryan use to say, “I have enough friends”. This time of year I have a hard time dealing with my stroke, and I struggle not to feel sorry for myself and being so close to the date that it happened makes it worse. Yes I am a survivor, but it is a tough time for me. People see me as someone who is fine, those that I allow to know me know otherwise. I have to keep on reminding myself that I am here for a reason, it is hard. Last night my arm went numb and I dropped the supper on the floor. I deal with that and forgetfulness, slurred speech, headaches, anxiety. That is one reason why I have a hard time getting to know people better. I will talk for a little bit, and then walk away. It may seem as though I am being standoffish or it might actually seem that I am being a little stuck up. That is not the case at all. I am terrified of someone seeing just how messed up my speech can get, or my thoughts, or how I ramble, and if I trip you might as well just put a Scarlet Letter on my chest. What people say in their eyes is even more powerful than what comes out of their mouth. Don’t believe me? Just ask anyone that has lost their hair to cancer, or has a disability, they know what I am talking about. I don’t really work on that part of my recovery, it is too painful to actually even go there. I get up in the morning and hope it’s a good day. Until next week my friends. Allison Enge Highheelsanddirtydishes@yahoo.com