tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85482638289939687342024-03-14T11:09:36.942-05:00My little box of chocolatesThis is my story. It may not be movie material, but its mine :)
I am a mom of 3, a hairdresser, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, and doer of all things possible (according to my kids).
Life has thrown me a lot of curveballs. But, I have learned that no matter what trials come our way, the sun always rises and sets the next day, giving us yet another chance to get things right.
Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get... And I have had my fair share of surprises! Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.comBlogger77125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-1431599551594520282021-01-22T11:38:00.000-06:002021-01-22T11:38:01.481-06:00A few tips from your friendly neighborhood hairdresser during these crazy times!<p>Twenty twenty hit the salon industry hard. I think I can speak for most of us when I say: we are tired. We are tired of Covid, we are tired of the masks, we are tired of politics, and tired of the tension.</p><p>Every day things we loved about our jobs have almost been stripped from us without anyone even realizing it. Conversing about every day things, hearing about your family and life, those conversations seem to have gone by the way side in the blink of an eye. See, we are told in beauty school there are certain topics behind the chair that are taboo; sex, religion, and politics. And it seems as if this year, everything went back to politics. From the most sensationalized election in my life time, to Covid, everything has had something to do with Democrat vs. republican this year. From whether or not people believed the virus would disappear after the election, to whether or not the election was fraud, everyone has an opinion, and in most cases, it’s a very strong one. And as hairstylists, we are literally TRAINED to avoid these topics. Trying over and over again each day to reroute conversations is exhausting. And yet some how it always seems to go back to politics and Covid right now. I'm just ready for it to all be over with. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMsxd8Mo74nAY6kkZF5QZkWYImCFYbI9fZOSQ8_aO4fYUhnpIEBwOVgk4XbbiLWU_STeqC6xNs0gGft1fKqtscG9TLick3HvL10QgLUN5kaDrNkcsWTQf0S-tjRZzAmzhXLG72tNht9A4/s474/essential.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="383" data-original-width="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMsxd8Mo74nAY6kkZF5QZkWYImCFYbI9fZOSQ8_aO4fYUhnpIEBwOVgk4XbbiLWU_STeqC6xNs0gGft1fKqtscG9TLick3HvL10QgLUN5kaDrNkcsWTQf0S-tjRZzAmzhXLG72tNht9A4/s320/essential.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Here are a few things to consider when making your appointments that would help all of us out!:<br /><br />1. Book ahead!!! I can not stress this enough. I always recommend booking your next appointment before you leave the salon, however, I know with some work schedules, school schedules, and just life, some times this isn't possible. So give yourself and your stylist some leeway when booking. Don't call and want in THAT DAY over your lunch hour and expect to get in. I don't know about most of you, but my salon has not slowed down at all since the reopening after our shut down. Our clients have been absolutely awesome, and so supportive of our business, and have been very consistent about coming in and booking ahead to make sure they stay on top of their hair in the case of another shutdown. However, this is bad for those that may not plan ahead quite as much. It has really tightened our schedules up. Know that we will try to get you in as soon as possible, and we will stay late, and skip our lunch, etc. But we still have little ones and lives outside of the salon that need our attention. We have people that at the last minute get quarantined that we are trying to get rescheduled, and we are trying our best to get everyone in as soon as possible, so simply booking ahead, if you have that luxury, would help us both out. It helps you know you can get in, and it alleviates a little bit of stress from your stylist when she is trying to book other appointments. </p><p>2. If you can't make it to your appointment on time, or at all, CALL AND LET US KNOW! No showing your hairdresser, or anyone for that matter has a big impact on their day. Not only do they miss out on the income from your service, but they are missing out on income from other clients that they have had to turn away due to your time slot being filled. And more than likely that spot can not be filled when there is no notice. It literally impacts their entire day. Please just be courteous and call. We understand things come up. Right now, people are getting quarantined at the last minute among many other things, just call, trust me, we understand. But not calling is just flat rude.</p><p>3. If you are sick, stay home. We can not risk getting sick, and exposing all of the people that have sat in our chair. Most hairdressers do not get paid sick leave. If we have to quarantine, that is all income lost. Not to mention, if we unknowingly expose our clients and someone gets sick, that guilt lies on us, and we truly care about our clients.</p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix6hL13f-PDQIkh2JTqjrDQAq37n7QarJdJLcqqBm8FU4M7YapGug4SlxmFhGkbLDrbrUka4oaZGsZNO2XzWYMFqIVxIc8G8nv3eUNrTeER5SsXzqIANpFo9HJeQsCtXytYZ1CYP4bhmY/s652/maury.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="652" data-original-width="628" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix6hL13f-PDQIkh2JTqjrDQAq37n7QarJdJLcqqBm8FU4M7YapGug4SlxmFhGkbLDrbrUka4oaZGsZNO2XzWYMFqIVxIc8G8nv3eUNrTeER5SsXzqIANpFo9HJeQsCtXytYZ1CYP4bhmY/s320/maury.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We've all had that one client since quarantine <br />that was in complete denial about what they did<br />to their hair!</td></tr></tbody></table><br />4. Be patient with us. We are literally packing people in as tight as we can, and squeezing people in as closely as we can with all of the new cleaning regulations and social distancing regulations that have been placed since we reopened. We are fixing quarantine cuts, and quarantine colors that we may not have expected. Sometimes, this might mean that we are running a little behind. Trust me, we hate it as much as you do. It gets us flustered, and then we start dropping things more, and we start sweating, it's all a mess. But we are trying. We are trying to get to everyone on time, in the same cheerful manner that we did in 2019.</p><p>5. Talk to us. Talk to us about your family. Talk to us about your dogs. Talk to us about the latest book you are reading, or the latest podcast you are listening to. At this point in time, I would even strike two of the taboos from the list and let you talk about sex and money! Talk to us about ANYTHING other than Covid or politics. We are tired. We miss our old conversations. Hair dressers tend to look at life through rose colored glasses. We like to see the beauty in things. And all of the ugly in the world lately has made that really hard to do. So please, help us see it again. Talk to us like you used to. We miss that. I have literally been put in situations this year where I have had to move regular appointments and clients around because of the conversations that were had in my chair that offended the next person waiting. As much as we might try to just smile and say "uh huh", other people around get offended, and this is our business. We want to get to know you, we care what you care about. But right now, things are so tense in our nation, that we just can't. We are having a really hard time balancing it all. Please, please, talk to me about your dog. (Also, see rule no. 1.... this helps us keep those people that might offend each other on different days and time slots! Do your part!)</p><p>6. Bring us caffeine. We need it! Our once 8 hour days have stretched to 10 and 12 hour days because of all of the different precautions, and squeezing people in that have had to cancel due to being quarantined. Trust me, we don't even care what kind it is, just bring caffeine!</p><p>7. Shop small, buy local. I know this gets said all the time. I know that you can get your shampoo and conditioner on sale at some of the big box stores, or on Amazon, but those places aren't keeping your local salon open. Retail sales can make a big difference in the income of a salon and stylist. Just keep that in mind next time you stop at Beauty Brands for their liter sale. Now more than ever, it is imperative that we start thinking small, and support our local communities first. Let your stylist know if you want something she doesn't carry. Chances are she can get it in for you! This literally puts food on her table.</p><p>8. More than anything, know we appreciate you! We may be tired, and rushing around when you are there, and we may be exhausted from all of the goings on in the world, but we love seeing you. You brighten our days. Some times, I'm convinced you bring us more joy that we do you. We know you love getting your hair done, but we love the relationships we have formed with all of you. You are important in our lives. You are not just a number on the books for us. Thank you for your continued support during this crazy time. We look forward to seeing you in our chairs and getting caught up with our friends that in many cases have grown into extended family. </p><p>Moral of the story, please just bear with us. We are trying, and we are tired. And we know you are too. So let's just do our best to support each other during these crazy times in our world. Let's support each other, and help each other see the beauty in things again. And not just the beauty of your hair, although I can help you with that as well ;).</p>Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-63367557170432405192021-01-13T22:50:00.012-06:002022-01-31T18:29:53.362-06:00Not even going to edit this….I found this little gem today while getting ready to start a post.... I would say much of this applied to 2021 as well... a year later, I chose to leave it as it is, without a single edit.... <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjYwnqKwrCN2njoki7cL1KrOCTpMxPHbQsbek80dwlOxoTwItnvO1xf4Zklk0qcFx3KicAvUw6r4JXxR8vg8AOI0hlDwLvSddQVnqCAQw5ivM7m6ZnpRWGjYFl0K5mgfO1sBq7QEP0Rm4RqTD7DyJItm4TGoEQM95TBuAMVK2L7B4SlWXXWfsbGPwKo=s800" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; clear: left; float: left;"><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjYwnqKwrCN2njoki7cL1KrOCTpMxPHbQsbek80dwlOxoTwItnvO1xf4Zklk0qcFx3KicAvUw6r4JXxR8vg8AOI0hlDwLvSddQVnqCAQw5ivM7m6ZnpRWGjYFl0K5mgfO1sBq7QEP0Rm4RqTD7DyJItm4TGoEQM95TBuAMVK2L7B4SlWXXWfsbGPwKo=s320"/></a></div>
<p>I have seen more memes about 2020 and how bad it sucked than I have of that stupid white cat and Cameron Diaz. It's funny though, cruising through social media the last week of December, how many memes, or status updates I saw talking about how ready everyone was for 2021. As if the turn of that second hand on that clock, that rolled the minute, into the next hour, that rolled us into the next year was going to magically change everything. If there is one thing I have learned over the last year, it's that nothing magically fixes itself. We have to fix it. We have to buckle down, grind, do the work, and fix it ourselves. No one is going to ride in on their white horse and save the day. We have to save ourselve so disgusted with so many things this year: politics, covid, humans in general. I have seen politics tear families, friendships, and relationships apart, and I have seen this virus tear families, friendships, and relationships apart. It's appalling. What has happened to us? Is this really the America, or the world, the we have hoped for? Is this what we want to leave behind for our children? Is this what we want to teach the<p>I checked out last year. I mean, kind of. In a sense. Most who know me would say I did. Really, I went through the motions to just get through, to get by. That was definitely easier than facing everything that was going on around me. I mean, let's rewind and look at things, an international pandemic that shut my business down for two months and left me with no income, a divorce, another really painful breakup, my dog unexpectedly passing away, then a decision to focus on me for the first time in my life, which is very foreign, and can actually be really painful and messy. I mean, some would say for most of the year, I was AWOL. And I know I wasn't alone. A lot of people struggled this last year. In fact, most people did. This last year was absolute shit. Except it wasn't.</p><p>There's the old adage is the glass half empty, or half full? But isn't it high time we stop that debate, and just be glad we have the damn glass in the first place? I mean, without the glass, half empty or half full wouldn't even be an option. And if that REALLY, I mean REALLY matters to you, get a smaller glass and fill it to the brim. Yes, there is a lot of ugliness going on in this world, but I look within my own little world, my own little circle, and I see so much beauty, much to be thankful for. Shouldn't we all start focusing there? What if we did? What if we all started focusing on being kind to ourselves, and showing kindness to our immediate family, and peers, and let it trickle out from there. I know that I am, by far, not the first person that has suggested this, nor will I be the last. What if we all give it a shot? Let's try it. Let's go back to the golden rule: Do unto others as you wish to be done unto you. Seems elementary, right? Why have we forgotten it? What if we all took a second, and took a step back, and acted rather than reacted? What if we all thought about how our actions would affect others, rather than what feels good right now?</p><p>I think I have learned more about myself in this past year than any other year of my life. Some, in fact most, of this learning process was excrutiatingly painful, but I survived. No, I thrived. I have learned what I really want. I have learned what I won't accept. I have learned what really matters. I have learned that I have a lot to offer. I have learned that taking three seconds to take a breath before I react to my children can make a huge difference in their day. I have learned that you can't make someone love you who isn't ready to do so. I have also learned that the right person will love you no matter what. I have learned that who Cora is, outside of being a mother, or a wife, matters; to myself and to others. I have learned that kindness, really does matter, far more than being right. </p><p>With all of the ugliness and controversy that 2020 brought, I choose to look at it as a blessing. It was the year of the awakening for me. I lost people I loved fiercely, and found people I never saw coming. I gained a lot of perspective. I am focused on what I want, and will no longer be distracted by what I do not want. I will no longer settle, for fear of upsetting outsiders, when what matters most is my little tribe that I have created, which has grown this year. I wave goodbye to those who chose to exit my life this year, and I bid you well. I will no longer be distracted by those who are half in. I know my worth. I know my kids' worth. I know what we deserve. And I WILL start focusing on that. From this day forward, I will only give energy to that which brings me joy, and peace. And I hope you all start doing the same. Maybe you already are. Maybe you aren't. But what a beautiful world we would have in front of us if we all just did our best to let go of the anger, hatred, and ugliness. </p><p>From here on out, I choose beauty. I choose happy. I choose joy. I choose peace. I choose ME.</p>Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-78157465260312280742021-01-13T22:41:00.001-06:002021-01-13T22:41:25.854-06:00To my "little girl" on her 18th birthday...<p>My dear, sweet Ashlynne,</p><p> Eighteen. Legally an adult. Always my baby.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRNvFsMdBOmUEVX0Uz-lLBEY6SDBsMjddlL3HS_Cg14M-QH6JRl83flLVoIIvZ0YjGN41NhrUFgE9ax3AgY4bZmOZ56HEIv-0rHR7PpZdcssWI4InVy5J7Vw1X0YSK30Kkg2bZA2YVqrk/s960/C4A10D8B-C0C5-43EB-9ACE-74B578CE7B3D.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRNvFsMdBOmUEVX0Uz-lLBEY6SDBsMjddlL3HS_Cg14M-QH6JRl83flLVoIIvZ0YjGN41NhrUFgE9ax3AgY4bZmOZ56HEIv-0rHR7PpZdcssWI4InVy5J7Vw1X0YSK30Kkg2bZA2YVqrk/s320/C4A10D8B-C0C5-43EB-9ACE-74B578CE7B3D.jpeg" /></a></div>Bear with me as I navigate this land of trying to figure out how to be a parent to an adult child. I don't know how to do this. I don't know how good I will be at this whole "parenting an adult" thing. But keep in mind, you will always be my child. There will probably be plenty of times you have to remind me that you are becoming an adult. But remember, I might have a hard time wrapping my head and heart around that. I will always be your mom. I took the pregnancy test. I announced you were coming into this world. I am the first person that heard your heartbeat. I got the morning sickness, the swollen ankles. I felt your first movements. I felt your first hiccups. I grew as you grew. I have the scar from your cesarian. I have grown up right along with you. I felt the pain as you came into this world, and the joy simultaneously. And I felt the pain when they took you away, and I sat in your NICU room and cried. You see, today, you legally become an adult, a woman. But to me, you will always be that little baby fighting for her life, and showing the world what strength really is. <p></p><p>I feel like my days of guiding you are limited. I hope I am wrong. I hope you always want your mom's advice. But just in case, there are some things that are really important in life. A few things I need to say. Some things I wish I would have known. Some things that really matter. Here they are:</p><p>*Put God first. He will never steer you wrong. When you have that gut feeling that you think you should follow, that's Him. Just listen. And when you think He isn't there, He is. Have faith.</p><p>*Don't chase them. Boys, friends, family members, anyone. Don't chase them. For if they are worth chasing, you won't have to chase them. What you will have to do is put in effort. Relationships of all kinds take effort from both sides, but not all the effort from one side. If they slip through your fingers, but are meant to have a permanent place in your life, they will come back. And they will appreciate you even more than before.</p><p>*Be teachable. If you know a million things, you can still learn from the person that only knows one thing. Believe it or not, we aren't always right. Be prepared to listen, and hear people out. Knowledge is more than booksmarts. And once you leave the realm of high school, this becomes more apparent. Lessons are to be learned in everything.</p><p>*Don't take yourself too seriously. If you don't laugh at yourself, they will laugh at you. You might as well beat them to the punch.</p><p>*Not everyone will like you. And that's ok. Because you won't like everyone. Find your tribe, love them hard. It is literally impossible to be friends with everyone. It is quality over quantity. I would rather have a few really good friends, than a lot of people around me that I can't form a deep connection with.</p><p>One of the best scenarios in life, I heard recently from a good friend. I will try to do the comparison justice as I retell it. As we sat on the porch one night she said to me: Life is like a tree. You are the trunk. Some people in your life are the branches. These are the people that stay. These are the monumental people in your life that have the most impact, and will never leave you until the day they die. Other people, they are like leaves. When a big gust of wind comes along, or the seasons change, they are gone. They are the friends and relationships that are there for a little bit, maybe when things are good, and fun, but when a storm, or winter comes along, they shed themselves. But those branches, they stay. They are still there next year, even when the new leaves come. You see, trees shed their leaves, and that's part of life, most branches stay intact for a really long time. but some of those branches, they are there for life. Those branches are the ones you prune, and the ones you take care of, those are the ones that really make the tree beautiful. </p><p>*Call your mom. When you're sad. When you're happy. When you have exciting news. When you are bored. Call your mom. I will never tire of hearing your voice.</p><p>You, my love, are one of the things I am most proud of in this life. If I have done anything worthwhile in this, being a mom is at the top of that list. You are funny, and witty, and kind. You love animals, and the elderly, and your family. You love Pearl Jam. The rest of your music taste could use some tweaking, but we have time to work on that. But most importantly, you are STRONG. You are a fighter. I was just telling the story tonight of when you took your first steps. Two and half years old, he picked you up out of my arms, and set you in the middle of the room, and told me not to run to you. And you walked to me. For the first time. Crying, and scared, but you made it. You made it across that room to the one place you felt safe. I will always be your safe place. You can always come to me. No judgements, no I told you so's. Only love, acceptance, and safety. Believe it or not, I am still growing with you. I still feel you. I still hurt when you hurt. That didn't stop the day you were born, it had only just begun.</p><p><br /></p><p>I love you. Happy birthday young lady.</p><p>Love, </p><p>Mom</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-8Wxm_cV3xMQkvd1TpE_dvdJy5zgVPWCsIRCXmIZA7tReLPUS-zUHXrRJLg4eq4yfi3fW7nQu27KmpAHzi4aTVZSJY2-epT6yp83IrE-K46ubVFH6KmUz3YQ0K-xQ32T6IuyUmUPbho/s1728/EC19996C-D3A2-4153-B71F-0F1AEA722FC8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-8Wxm_cV3xMQkvd1TpE_dvdJy5zgVPWCsIRCXmIZA7tReLPUS-zUHXrRJLg4eq4yfi3fW7nQu27KmpAHzi4aTVZSJY2-epT6yp83IrE-K46ubVFH6KmUz3YQ0K-xQ32T6IuyUmUPbho/w640-h480/EC19996C-D3A2-4153-B71F-0F1AEA722FC8.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p>Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-8196068626212317702020-08-17T17:51:00.003-05:002020-08-17T20:52:04.028-05:00The beauty of letting go<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQj2Lt05I_7N9tvD6KeECZ07ffKlASXQUiBcKUu7-Myw6yzHDUdNSwbqzOPEyL7YROeWeD7aIJMbp8UmkD39PjdMwfMEiAROZ37gzX0_t28kqM4VSFuXUtNONOxcWTOUHDHI7kYw4v4Ac/s736/6DE47B9A-E350-4B4D-9DCF-7CEC26E1F291.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="736" data-original-width="736" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQj2Lt05I_7N9tvD6KeECZ07ffKlASXQUiBcKUu7-Myw6yzHDUdNSwbqzOPEyL7YROeWeD7aIJMbp8UmkD39PjdMwfMEiAROZ37gzX0_t28kqM4VSFuXUtNONOxcWTOUHDHI7kYw4v4Ac/w410-h410/6DE47B9A-E350-4B4D-9DCF-7CEC26E1F291.jpeg" width="410" /></a></div><br />Healing is messy. But healing is so beautiful. I think I am finally finding the person I was meant to be. I have a lot of people to thank for that, but honestly, I owe the biggest thanks to those who have hurt me the most. <p></p><p>This morning, my daughter asked me what I felt like to have your heart broken. I couldn't find the words to describe it to her. All I could do was think of the darkness it pulled me into. The absolute despair I felt when I looked back at the love lost in my life. </p><p>Never, did I ever, think I would be writing this. Losing you was the one thing I never thought I would have to face, and when I did, it was the one thing I thought I would never survive. And for a minute, I barely did. I was a shell of me. I lost my friend, I lost my love, I lost a sense of purpose. We were so intertwined. We shared friends, we shared hobbies, our families were intertwined. Who was I without you? You were supposed to be safe. You were never supposed to hurt me. How was it that losing you hurt more than anything I had ever experienced? How could you just walk away, without looking back. What about all of this love you left me? But one day, it clicked. All it took was for you to continually show me who you really were, that side of you you kept hidden. I just had to accept that you were that person, and once I did, it was so freeing. I can't count the hours I spent staring at my phone, praying it would ring with your name scrolling across. Or the times my heart sank when it wasn't your name. Then, I took control. I decided that to keep from breaking my own heart, I had to eliminate the risk. You knew I was drowning, and you were perfectly content watching me sink. I realized, that is not the person I want to love. At the time, I thought it was going to kill me. But now I realize, staying with you would have killed the person I was meant to discover. Thank you. Thank you for showing me what love is NOT. You don’t destroy someone you love you destroy things, possessions, but not someone you love. But guess what, buddy. You weren’t able to destroy me. Because like a phoenix, I rose from the ashes. Thank you for clearing the way for who was really meant to be in my life. Thank you for making room for the man that is capable of loving me. For the man that can handle all the love I have to give. </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcWDLwqffeWiazzmOIv6krITvAT4bmjs29FUlCPaeW1grBAFAFa0yuMJwNR_OfPdZUxJ4GbViXr3mahtfE0LTD_Oc3P7r2vgAHbaAFrtyPOyxdlNlzgVP1AGN1s4MgS2u_REDLRsP0Hec/s1792/775D195E-309E-4E56-8418-BEE6195D7BEA.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="828" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcWDLwqffeWiazzmOIv6krITvAT4bmjs29FUlCPaeW1grBAFAFa0yuMJwNR_OfPdZUxJ4GbViXr3mahtfE0LTD_Oc3P7r2vgAHbaAFrtyPOyxdlNlzgVP1AGN1s4MgS2u_REDLRsP0Hec/s640/775D195E-309E-4E56-8418-BEE6195D7BEA.jpeg" /></a>I realize I can be a bit much. My laugh can be a bit loud. My sense of humor can be a bit dark. My face can be a bit intimidating. My personality can be a bit large. I'm not for everyone. None of us are. But I have realized that the people that can't accept that are gradually weeding themselves out of my life. I, lately, have found myself surrounded by the people who unapologetically love me. </p><p>For the first time in my adult life, I can finally say I am living for me. I am making my own decisions, rather than just keeping my mouth shut to keep the peace, or choosing what I think someone else would want, just to keep them happy. Now I live for me, and have attracted people around me that fully accept me, and not people who are hoping I will morph into what they want me to be. I am finally choosing people. I'm choosing friendships, relationships. I am no longer willing to sit back and let life happen to me. I am in charge of my own life. Do I have it all figured out just yet? No. Will I ever? I don't know. But I will certainly try, rather than leaving my fate in someone else's hands. And as far as all of that love you left me? Well, here's the thing, you left it with me. And now, I get to chose who I share that love with. That love is still there, it is just no longer for you. You lost. I didn't. I gained. For when you failed to see my worth, it forced me to search for it. It forced me to recognize what I brought to the table, and it made me realize, I was done settling. No longer will I plaster on the fake smile that I had mastered for you. No longer will I gut out excruciating situations, so as not to rock the boat. That girl is dead. </p><p>So to those of you who have hurt me. Thank you. For you have unleashed the me I was always meant to be. You have helped me discover the person inside of me that I am learning to love. You have helped me realize what I certainly don't want in my partner, and that is as important as realizing what I do want. You hurting me, and leaving, has paved the way for me to be the type of woman I was meant to be for the man who was meant to love me for me. </p><p>For those of you who have stayed in my life, or maybe are just entering it: Welcome. I am choosing my people, my tribe. If you are in my life, it's becauseI want you here. From now on, no one else gets to chose for me if they belong in my life. I get to chose that. </p>Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-63220411523554518882020-04-29T09:29:00.002-05:002020-04-29T09:29:44.392-05:00Quarantine life in a nutshell<div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These shirts are ordered, and will hopefully be<br />here by our reopen day, set for Monday, May 4!</td></tr>
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I laugh at the t-shirts, and memes I have seen created since the "social distancing" has become our new normal. I nod my head in agreement with the jokes that say that some of us have been preparing for social distancing our entire lives. But the truth is, I miss my life. I miss my routine. I miss the smiling faces of my clients. I miss greeting the mail man and paper guy each day at work. I miss gently bullying my coworkers each day. I miss having a reason to get out of bed, and to get myself dressed and dolled up for the day. And I miss the certainty that each day seemed to hold prior to March 24, when the stay at home order was issued.</div>
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For a virus that a majority of us will never contract, COVID-19 has affected all of us more than we ever thought possible. </div>
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Over night, I went from a full-time working, salon owning, boutique owning mom, to a stay at home, homeschooling mom. Not a role I ever saw myself in. And let me say, hats off to you ladies that do this every day. Your job is a challenge, and I respect the hell out of you! That being said, my kids have been awesome. They have done their school work, then jumped in to helping me with whatever project I have going for the day. And how awesome is it, that all three of them have randomly asked how I am doing, and if I am ok, because they know I miss my salon family and life?!?! I seriously have the best kids!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss B turned 9 during quarantine. We spent<br />the day tie dying, and opening gifts. Her favorite<br />gift?... Her WWE toys she got. This girl loves<br />wrestling and the Bella Twins.</td></tr>
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I've done all the things that Quarantine '20 has required. I have binge watched all of Tiger King , and fully believe that Carol Baskin killed her husband, got caught up on all of my true crime TV shows, done several DIY projects, and have done some baking. We even had a 9th birthday party for my red headed princess. She took it like a champ with only being able to have siblings and the neighbor friend over. She made the best of it and I was so very proud of her for that. Trying to find ways to keep myself occupied has never been an issue for me. In the past, I spent my days wishing I could find a few more hours in each day so I could accomplish what I felt I needed to for that day. After getting home from working all day, and doing supper and a few chores, there was almost always certainly some sort of project I was in the middle of o prepping for. I was never good at "oh, it can wait till tomorrow". I was a go getter, and felt the need to finish a project that I started, and would work myself ragged until it was done. Now, the last few days, more often than not, I find myself just kind of walking around looking for something to do. I've cleaned out the storage rooms. I've rearranged the living room. In fact, I have gutted the bathroom, and gotten new flooring in the main part of the house, redone the laundry room, cleaned out the cabinets... the list goes on. Now, I find myself wondering, if without my salon life, if I have a purpose. Sure, the kids need help with their homework for a couple of hours, but when those hours are over, they are off doing their own thing. Who am I when I'm not a hairstylist and a mom? This question really bothered me the first few days of self reflection. Now I have realized, maybe I'm no one without these two things. And I'm ok with that. I will be a mom for the rest of my life, and the relationships I have made doing hair will follow me through out the rest of my life. And that, my friends, is a blessing. </div>
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The amount of love shown to myself and my family throughout this safer at home order has been overwhelming. I've gotten texts, phone calls, facebook messages, and even good old fashioned letters, encouraging me, and letting me know that people believe in me, and my business, and they are going to support it when we are allowed to reopen. I've heard more people insist that my job should be considered "essential", and let me assure you, to me, my clients are "essential". I have missed those smiling faces more than I can describe. To my clients reading this, I want you to know that each and every one of you is cherished, and are a blessing to my life! Thank you so much for supporting my family, and supporting my dreams.<br />
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On Monday, fingers crossed, I should get to reopen the salon. There will be new regulations in place. All a part of our new normal. I will have to wear a facemask, as well as my client. So I'm hoping that we have all had a chance to recharge, and that I will be able to see the smile in everyone's eyes, since I might not be able to see your smiling lips!Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-13573533715195051382020-01-05T21:00:00.000-06:002020-01-05T21:37:54.118-06:00To the man who loves me next...First of all, let me say thank you. Why thank you? Because obviously you are special enough that I am willing to let you in... willing to take the risk of being hurt again. That must mean that you have shown me something that made me think you must be different... so thank you.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrUzQICYjjP1lNo5us2ByzOgvYsFdR1p_g5ik7eAYsCqodNGodN2UXumca0dLOU1CK4wFrYlh-lu8W-HTWBqK_rXyO6NnCFuQpW58SpVQluKiFlUULkzn16dZOYcZudiZmSz8UvskL8g/s1600/838B0B20-B29B-4E8B-B7BA-D9B9712CBAA4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="490" data-original-width="490" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrUzQICYjjP1lNo5us2ByzOgvYsFdR1p_g5ik7eAYsCqodNGodN2UXumca0dLOU1CK4wFrYlh-lu8W-HTWBqK_rXyO6NnCFuQpW58SpVQluKiFlUULkzn16dZOYcZudiZmSz8UvskL8g/s320/838B0B20-B29B-4E8B-B7BA-D9B9712CBAA4.jpeg" width="320" /></a>Next, let me apologize. I'm damaged. Broken. I won't be easy to love. Your job loving me will be a tough one. I don't know how much of my heart I have left to give, although I promise, to the right person, I will give all I have to give. I'm insecure, anxious, I overthink, and the only thing I am certain of, is that people leave. I will push you away when I feel like you're getting too close, and just hope and pray that you fight your way back in. When given too much time to think, I will try to talk myself out of loving you. I will convince myself of all the reasons you are certain to leave. And I will probably try to tell you about all of those reasons.... I'm working on that. I keep telling myself I'm working on "rewiring" my brain. But most of all, when I do that, what I'm looking for is just some reassurance. Reassurance that you aren't going anywhere, and reassurance that you are going to be patient, as I figure out what a healthy love looks like. The sad thing is, I know I'm doing it, but for some reason, my defense mechanism is stronger than my self control in this area. Call it self preservation, if you will. But, if you are patient, and ride out this storm with me, I promise I will love you like you have never been loved. Teach me, show me, and I promise you, it will be worth it. I am worth it.<br />
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I want you to understand that I don't need you. I want you. There is a huge difference. I once had someone ask me, "Do you love him because you need him, or do you need him because you love him?"... read that again.... think about it... The two choices are very different, and very profound. Sure, I will let you help me if I need it, although it may be hard, because I've been forced to be independent. But understand that I don't need to be rescued, saved, or fixed. I'm working on doing that on my own. I just need someone to stand BY me as I fix myself.<br />
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And there might be times that I seem demanding, or stubborn. Which, I can definitely be both.... but this time, I refuse to settle for less than I deserve. I refuse to settle for what I know is less.... I will not continually give more than I receive. This time, my love will not be one sided.<br />
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I will do my best not to hurt you. But I will. Just as I am sure there will be times you will hurt me. My tongue can be sharp, and my shoulder can be just as cold. But I really do try to avoid this. My desire to not hurt people is so strong, that more often, I end up hurting myself. That has been my pattern in the past. A pattern that I've had a really hard time breaking. So please, once you figure this out, don't take advantage of it. Because I would never take advantage of you. And please, do not mistake my kindness for weakness, everyone has their breaking point.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdRu0PQL9f6hTem5bXAcVRZ6TDFBFYtApRjlrLRVoCa6xRJlbgDXQrp7M2WxB0x-PclruZDuyT4eqOtH0QZuDs1UJ4Z7YzCUYYuPdF3bqA9PCUK6u31q_uTBovLZXu6YaxPKN1eXT7PcE/s1600/AFA8E3C5-2232-4796-830C-36A86A2DFCA9.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="452" data-original-width="557" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdRu0PQL9f6hTem5bXAcVRZ6TDFBFYtApRjlrLRVoCa6xRJlbgDXQrp7M2WxB0x-PclruZDuyT4eqOtH0QZuDs1UJ4Z7YzCUYYuPdF3bqA9PCUK6u31q_uTBovLZXu6YaxPKN1eXT7PcE/s320/AFA8E3C5-2232-4796-830C-36A86A2DFCA9.png" width="320" /></a>I'm done playing games. Games are for kids. Games only get people hurt. If you feel something, say it. If you want something, say it. The bad boy routine is played out. The bad boy thing was attractive when I was a teenager. Not anymore. Little girls are in to the bad boy thing, not grown women. That ship has sailed. I don't want that man that pretends to not have a care in the world, including me. Now, I want a grown ass man with his shit together who isn't afraid to say how they feel. Show me your sad, vulnerable side. Because trust me, I have one too. I want someone that can carry me on the days that I can't give it all, and I want someone who isn't afraid to ask me for help when they need it too. So, if it is games you are looking for, if you love that chase, then get bored with the actual relationship, look for a different opponent. Because love shouldn't be about games, which indicates that there are opposing sides. Love is about oneness. Love isn't about the chase. Love is about the life you build. If you aren't looking to build, kindly leave me alone.<br />
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I'm looking for that great, safe love. I'm looking for the man that is just as proud to call me his when I'm standing in the kitchen in one of his tshirts, as he is when I'm all done up for a night out. I'm looking for a man that is just as content spending a night in, as he is spending a night out. I'm looking for that man that isn't afraid to shout form the rooftops that I am his. I'm looking for that man that is willing to show me what real love is. I want you to know that you may not have been my first love, but I'm hoping you are my last... And if that man finds himself reading this, just know, I've been waiting for you.... Hello Handsome...<br />
<br />Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-6437014132378931182019-12-05T13:17:00.000-06:002019-12-05T13:17:00.145-06:00Finding Cora: part 2... deeper in the processThis is going to get raw. Proceed with caution.<br />
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We have now reached the ugly part of the divorce. Anyone who has gone through this knows what I'm talking about. You know the part, where the gloves come off. The part where the hurt isn't as fresh, and the person that walked away is no longer feeling guilty for hurting me. The part where the sadness has transformed into anger. The part where you never know which version of that person you are getting for the day, the nice one, or the angry one. The part where I can ask a simple question and it gets a snarky answer in reply. The part where I hear the things he is saying about me to people, and I have to pretend it doesn't bother me. The part where public shame on social media turns into a game, to see how low of a blow can be dealt. The part where I have to turn the other cheek, and not react. Where whatever he does is ok, but everything I do is wrong. Where it's ok for him to move on, but not ok for me to do the same. The part where, for some reason, it seems as if hurting me is his goal. The part that I never wanted to reach... the part where I hate him. The part where I can't stand to look at him.<br />
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<b><i>"You will never be enough for the wrong person"</i></b><br />
I'm trying so hard to take the advice of all of my friends and "not take the bait"... and just not fight with him, not give him the satisfaction, but damn, that's hard. For so long, not feeling like I had a voice in my marriage, I want to scream back, and finally be heard. I want to scream that he no longer gets to control me through manipulations, and backhanded comments. I want to scream "YOU DON'T GET TO DO THIS TO ME ANYMORE!!" I want to stand up, and show that I am my own person, and Cora is someone, with or without Him by my side. I am enough. Whether he saw that or not. I am enough. <br />
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But if I wasn't seen by him in my marriage, what makes me think he will see me now? What will fighting back solve? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It will just drag this whole thing out. If it was time to walk away, it's time I do just that... walk away. I'm just ready to close this chapter of my life. I'm ready to stop hurting at his hand. I'm ready for every one of my past mistakes to not be used against me. I'm ready to not have the kids used against me. I'm ready to not have things like property settlements, and parenting time used against me. I'm ready for him to not be able to threaten me with things "not working out for me" or "getting ugly". I'm ready to stop shedding tears caused by him. I'm ready to be able enjoy myself and not have it ruined with a nasty phone call or text from him. I'm ready to not have a feeling of dread in my stomach when I look at my phone and realize it is him calling or texting. I'm ready to not have to "pretend" to be ok being around him for the kids, and to actually be ok being around him. I'm ready to walk away. It feels good to say that. I didn't know that I would ever get to that point. But I'm here, and I'm ready. <br />
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<b><i>"Happiness is the best revenge"</i></b><br />
I've heard it said many times that being happy is the best revenge. But what if it isn't revenge you are looking for, but simply peace? Revenge isn't a solution. Revenge just fuels the fire. Revenge implies vengeance. It implies a hatred of sorts. It implies it is consuming your thoughts. Revenge is done out of spite, not out of healing. It's time for me to heal. I'm done with the one upping, and the fighting. I'm done letting the anger and sadness consume me. There was enough of that in our marriage. The whole purpose in realizing it was time to walk away was to be free from this.... yet it continues. When will it stop? When will enough be enough? How do people get satisfaction out of knowing that they have hurt someone with their words or actions? How does it give some people relief to know that have exacted "revenge"? I don't want revenge, I want peace.<br />
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I know as I sit here and write this, that I am not the only woman on this planet going through this. I know that there is a woman out there reading this, nodding her head, completely relating to every word. I know that I am not the only one crying, when my kids aren't looking. I know that I am not the only one trying to heal from things someone will never apologize for. I know that I am not the only one hurting from things I don't discuss. This is why I write this. I don't write this to air all of my dirty laundry... trust me, we would be here for much longer if that was my quest. I don't write this to rag on my ex... that's the last thing either of us need. I write this to tell everyone going through this, you are not alone. There are countless other people going through what you are going through, and people who have already been through it. And in my heart, I know that I will be ok, in fact, better, at the end of all of this, and so will you. If I can do this, so can you. Did you hear me? You can do this. <br />
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Quotes. I love them. I search for quotes on the internet. Friends send them to me daily. I share them on facebook when they resonate with me. Sometimes they are things I am going through, some times they are just things I think someone needs to hear, and they have nothing to do with me. Meredith Grey is a rock star, right? I mean, if you need some good words or inspiration, just watch an episode of Grey's Anatomy and after 46 minutes you will walk away with some "Meredith-isms" that will help you stand up and face your Derek. What woman doesn't love Meredith Grey? Who DOESN'T relate to her? She is the philosopher of our generation. Move over Ghandi. Sometimes there is true power in words. So this is what I am asking of you, my readers... If you are, or have gone through a tough situation, share some quotes that have gotten you through your tough times. Share them for the other women out there to read, to lift them up if they are struggling. Let's flood each other with positivity, and support. I know I am not alone in my situation, and my pain. Let's power through this together. Let's be each other's rock. You are not alone... WE are not alone.<br />
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Hello Cora, it's nice to see you... I'm glad you are on your way home.Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-44372648253081360812019-11-11T11:03:00.003-06:002019-11-11T11:25:36.968-06:00Finding CoraI am getting divorced. There, I said it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeEItOxJoORcBcesagUIn9GuuijD8A9i0ADgQes2edz4dKJDiQMU0dNvdDG_wP4iVWLXTxqWQHTyxcXxC4hey3iXY9G4II29JsoUQrwAbF6tkOMhyphenhyphenFnzRIGNctW-FO7ObLA9KssteHeNA/s1600/44E179AE-A29F-4D6E-9812-14F17161378D.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1377" data-original-width="1242" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeEItOxJoORcBcesagUIn9GuuijD8A9i0ADgQes2edz4dKJDiQMU0dNvdDG_wP4iVWLXTxqWQHTyxcXxC4hey3iXY9G4II29JsoUQrwAbF6tkOMhyphenhyphenFnzRIGNctW-FO7ObLA9KssteHeNA/s320/44E179AE-A29F-4D6E-9812-14F17161378D.jpeg" width="288" /></a>This journey has been an incredibly painful one. Painful knowing my marriage is dissolving right before my eyes, painful self reflecting, painful knowing there are things I could have done better, and painful questioning whether or not I ever knew this person that I thought I would be spending the rest of my life with. In a matter of a few signatures, I will watch all of the dreams and plans we had made together disappear.<br />
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The whole way home from that lawyer's office I cried. I had just felt like I was hovering outside of my body, watching as we parted off all of our possessions, and things we had worked for our entire married life, and before. I thought of our wedding day. Of all of the promises we made to each other, of all of the dreams we had, all of the love. I have watched the years whittle away at those dreams, and those feelings, leaving both of us feeling defeated, and no where near where we thought we would be over 9 years later. Then I started thinking of all the nights, where I went to sleep wondering if I was even loved, as I'm sure he did the same. I started thinking of all of the fights, where our pride meant more to us than not hurting the person we had committed to loving. Somewhere along the way, we both lost sight of the fact that love isn't always a feeling, it's an action, a commitment... and now we are too far gone. There are just certain things you can't come back from. To be honest, I'm still crying. I allow myself 15 minutes in the morning to let my feelings take over, then I have to boss up. I have things to do.<br />
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There are people out there that are judging us... saying we didn't try hard enough, saying that we are throwing our lives away. But the bottom line is: none of those people lived in our 4 walls. None of those people know how hard either of us fought for this. None of them saw the life we lived, when we BOTH tried our hardest to just put on a happy face. They can judge, from their perch on the outside, but that will get them no where. The end result is still the same.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjSNdI93F_I43Pq1rXQDTA40mnGX0OKMPt6lBmh-WAkZA7fi-RuuEsTKtSsH_AT4z36KIpRrxiqxclheltU6k2RG4aN3vTBLKZC0Xe3cBPFbr3f6ud5_dmhN1tdkWCbt0U-nY1apo_Gg4/s1600/30807D48-EE01-4768-9967-8835252C255A.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="1242" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjSNdI93F_I43Pq1rXQDTA40mnGX0OKMPt6lBmh-WAkZA7fi-RuuEsTKtSsH_AT4z36KIpRrxiqxclheltU6k2RG4aN3vTBLKZC0Xe3cBPFbr3f6ud5_dmhN1tdkWCbt0U-nY1apo_Gg4/s320/30807D48-EE01-4768-9967-8835252C255A.jpeg" width="320" /></a>I read an article the other day that said something along the lines of this: when we realized we could no longer save our marriage, we started trying to save ourselves. That is where we are at. Trying to still form beautiful lives that we can both be proud of. Our children were going down with the sinking ship that our marriage had become, and I also realized it was up to me to save them, as well as myself. The worst part, was realizing that we were the reason the other person needed saving. We had gone from being each others' safe place, to being the reason the other needed a safe place. How does that even happen? I can't answer that question with any certainty, but I can say that it wasn't one single event, it was very gradual, and happened so slowly we weren't even aware of what was happening. Eventually, it came to a point where I was sacrificing myself in attempt to keep him content. I was losing myself, drowning, so he could live. I have to save myself.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">I will not sit here and talk bad about him. Although in a small town, I'm sure people are waiting for it. I will not make this some dramatic episode, fit for a soap opera. Although I'm sure people will take that upon themselves to run with a story and add to it. There wasn't some huge event, or some sordid story. What happened between us was just that, between us. Sure, there have been low blows, and things that have happened since the split, but I'm trying my best to rewire myself, and not react. Some people crave the reaction, and I'm not giving in to that any more. I gave in for far too long.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Here are the things I know about my soon to be ex husband: he gave me a beautiful daughter, and for 10 years, let me share in the raising of his son, and he is not a bad person. He might not have been good for me, but that doesn't mean there isn't good in him. I would like to think that at times, we both bettered each other. I would like to think that neither one of us can say that we hate each other. And I would like to think that we are both walking away from this with some valuable lessons learned. I wish him nothing but the best. I hope that he can come out of this a better man. I hope we can both internalize the things we know we did wrong, and not repeat the same mistakes. I hope we can both move forward, and maybe somehow form a beautiful friendship. I can't imagine ever hating someone that I loved as much as I loved him. I also don't want people to take sides, although I know that some will. I'm sure that he would also say the same. It won't benefit our daughter at all if there are two separate sides to her life. Here are some things I know about me: I will be ok, I am stronger than I thought, and I have some amazing friends in my life.</span><br />
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I will move on. He will move on. And while I'm sure we will both struggle watching the other live life without us, it is part of it. It will be hard watching him for a life with someone else that he was supposed to form with me. But, for him, I wasn't enough, or he would have stayed. I am not sitting around crying, playing the victim, thinking I'm an inadequate person, and a failure at life. I'm simply being honest and real, and raw. I was not enough for him. My best was not good enough. Your best will never be enough for the wrong person. And I wasn't his person.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi85GqG7vTcM0xE1Z7t0xr-IO2fFIZD7bc3R2TxPghrgtyZ8bDtnOOoJ-Zt3xuw_eOIfqWN3nmyWJ1TFn0XNg9q64wlZlCRQ8l9vrVkb63VjfGK6xgtxlABvOsOC6nb12Ch0k6Gx5AekoA/s1600/23C1CF95-CDC6-4376-9AF4-306CA7F8F3E9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1520" data-original-width="1242" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi85GqG7vTcM0xE1Z7t0xr-IO2fFIZD7bc3R2TxPghrgtyZ8bDtnOOoJ-Zt3xuw_eOIfqWN3nmyWJ1TFn0XNg9q64wlZlCRQ8l9vrVkb63VjfGK6xgtxlABvOsOC6nb12Ch0k6Gx5AekoA/s320/23C1CF95-CDC6-4376-9AF4-306CA7F8F3E9.jpeg" width="261" /></a>The bottom line is this: he heard me, and I heard him. We both heard the pleas of each other, asking for some give and compromise, and sometimes asking for change. And I'm sure with some time, we will both make some of the changes that the other wanted. But for some reason, we couldn't, or wouldn't do that for each other. This is the part of my life where I get to start figuring out who I am. I have to figure out my hobbies, rather than just following his. I have to figure out what I like to do for fun, rather than doing what someone else wanted to do. I have to figure out who I am without being Russ's wife. And I will figure it all out. This will be a painful, but beautiful journey. I pray for peace. I pray for healing. And I will continue to pray for him.<br />
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<br />Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-59469769211973818182019-05-01T09:57:00.001-05:002019-05-01T10:29:52.208-05:00Ichthyosis Awareness month 2019- how I am feeling after 16 years of my child's diagnosisTo the parents with a child with special needs,<br />
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I want you to know. It's ok. If you don't feel like you can be the face of your child's disease, or if you do feel you can, it's ok. Either way, you're doing a good job.<br />
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Today is May 1, which kicks off Ichthyosis awareness month each year. This is the time of year where I am supposed to use my voice and educate the world about Ichthyosis, and how it affects my daughter and my family. This is where I'm supposed to tell you that the skin is the largest organ in the body, and its main functions include acting as a barrier against heat and infection, and protecting the body's organs from everything outside. And when the skin doesn't function properly, it puts everything at risk. This is where I'm supposed to tell you that ichthyosis, my daughter's skin disorder, is more than "just a skin disorder" and it has affected everything about the normal life that I pictured for her. But I don't want to.<br />
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Ashlynne is 16, and I'm just in a period in her life, and mine, where sometimes, I just don't feel like explaining everything. Sometimes, in my head, in want to scream "IT'S NOT MY JOB TO TEACH PEOPLE THINGS!". I'm at a point in my life, where I just want to see my daughter live as close to a normal life as possible. And sometimes, I get tired of ichthyosis being in the way of certain things.<br />
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I know I normally try to stay pretty positive about things, but this has been a tough year. When you have a special needs child, from the time they are born, people are constantly telling you to let them know if you need anything, or if there is anything they can do to help, to let the know. But the truth is, in the beginning, you don't know what you need, or what would help. And now I'm at the point where, when people say those things, I want to reply "can you make my kid wear her back brace?", because she has been diagnosed with scoliosis on top of everything else. Or better yet, I want to say "can you just make this all go away, can you cure her?", but that's not fair either. So I say thank you, and we move on. The truth of the matter is, no one can really do anything to help, other than be there to support her. Other than the doctors, who are working vigorously trying to find a cure or treatment, no one can really do anything other than be our friends, and listen when we are mad, and angry, and cheer with us when we have little victories. And we have that. I am so grateful that we are lucky enough to have that. Without my support system, I don't know where Ashlynne and I would be. <br />
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I know this is the part where I am supposed to be encouraging new moms who might be learning about ichthyosis, or any other disorder or disease they had never heard of until their child was diagnosed. And I will tell you this, you will get through it. There will be better days ahead. You will have days where you barely even think about your child's diagnosis, and you will get a glimpse of a "normal" life. But there will also be other days where you feel like you're drowning and you see your life raft floating further away. But you will get through it. You will. Some days will be easier than others, but your love for your child will get you through even your darkest days. And that is it. That is literally the only thing that can sustain you through those hard days. Nothing else I can say or do will even come close to fixing any of it. Your love for you child is your life raft. <br />
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I have my days where I am really positive and upbeat. Today just isn't one of them. Today is me just being real with you. Tonight, I am going live with Ashlynne on facebook and instagram to answer some questions, and to let you all see her, and her awesome personality. But right now, this is just me. being raw. telling you we all have our days. We all have our days where we just feel jaded, and don't have the energy to teach the world about our normal. Next month, we will be filming a documentary about ichthyosis with a production company, and on that day, I will bring my A game, and I will do as much educating as I can. But I will tell you this, Ashlynne is the one spreading awareness, not me. Ashlynne spreads awareness with her joy, and her love for life, and her love for <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWTcBC9roRxDhV8RJP8-vQLdSqkP-ECF-HkBEMhbehhp1K_ltMmPgAOXBHN1cdwab3hqztRadaJXxExrn1ycBYtYTld3TAydtdqglBL7gjc9_6Q9vF277-tGK1iwwl-BfxaMOfER3kbX8/s1600/56862367_10155847611246205_5717517918212718592_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWTcBC9roRxDhV8RJP8-vQLdSqkP-ECF-HkBEMhbehhp1K_ltMmPgAOXBHN1cdwab3hqztRadaJXxExrn1ycBYtYTld3TAydtdqglBL7gjc9_6Q9vF277-tGK1iwwl-BfxaMOfER3kbX8/s320/56862367_10155847611246205_5717517918212718592_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ashlynne, and part of her support group on her<br />
prom day. No one messes with her with this<br />
crew around!</td></tr>
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people. <br />
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So I will tell you this about ichthyosis: it affects everything about one's skin functions, therefore affecting everything about the life of a person that lives with it. It affects physical, emotional, and social aspects of just about everything that a person goes through. My child has been lucky enough to have some great friends and family that has always made sure she has had as close to a normal life as possible, but it's the strangers that exhaust me. The physical is scary, the times when we didn't know what was next for her, health wise. The times that I was watching an infection closely, wondering if it would land us in the hospital, or the times that I would be scared to even take her to the store, because the walk from the car held a huge risk of her overheating, those times were scary. But the social interactions are what are the most frustrating. Her being made to feel different by complete strangers, and by people she has known her whole life, has been the hardest part of her disease. <br />
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So that brings up why we are here today. Raising awareness, so that socially, things are easier for our kids. Raising awareness so that people don't get kicked off of planes for having ichthyosis, or don't get stared at, open mouthed, at Walmart when they are just trying to look at makeup. I get asked constantly how I would prefer people approach us if they have questions, or if they want to know more. My answer is this: just be a decent human being. Don't stare, don't walk up and ask my what is wrong with my kid, don't snap pics of her when you see her in a store, don't lecture her about her sunburn. Don't leave her out of things just because you don't know how to approach her. Don't treat her any different. Treat her like you would treat anyone else. Be a decent human being. Smile at her. Ask her her name. Get to know her. If you do that, you will get to know about ichthyosis. Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-71562281395703032962019-03-03T20:17:00.003-06:002019-03-03T20:57:53.236-06:00When National headlines hit close to home, and affect one of your best friends...I spent most of this week mad. Like, really pissed off if I'm being honest. I went from crying, to fuming mad, to tossing and turning and losing sleep. Now, I'm on the empowered step that my anger generally reaches. Here's the story:<br />
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An event that made national headlines, and hit news networks all over the nation hit a little too close to home for my comfort. My dear friend Jordan, and her son Jackson, were kicked off of an American Airlines flight because of their ichthyosis. Yes, MY Jordan, and yes, the disease that Ashlynne has, that brought Jordan into my life, caused her to be discriminated against in a humiliating manner. No, let me rephrase that... the disease didn't cause it, ignorance did.</div>
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When I saw the post online, my jaw dropped. There's no way, someone saw my beautiful friend, and decided because of her physical appearance that she was not allowed to fly. I was terrified, and sad for her. As soon as she text me that they made it safely to the hotel, the terrified dissipated, and the intense anger set in. I will set it up for you:</div>
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Jordan and her son Jackson were headed home to Columbia, SC from El Paso, TX from spending the long weekend with her husband before he deployed for the Army. They boarded their American Airlines flight, emotional from just leaving Chris, when an agent from the terminal boarded the plane and asked the people next to her to get up so he could talk to her. He then asked her about her and Jackson's "rash". She explained to him it is a genetic condition called Ichthyosis, and it is in no way contagious. The agent seemed satisfied, and reported back to the crew, and Jordan was ultimately asked to leave the flight. Here is the story in her words:</div>
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The airline did reach out to Jordan, after her post was made public and shared thousands of times over multiple social media outlets. They have been offered different settlements, but that is not the point here. The point, is that this never should have happened. We allow people who are unvaccinated to fly, we allow people who travel from other countries that have had communicable disease outbreaks to fly, but we insist a mother and son with a genetic mutation have a doctor's note before they can go home after an emotionally exhausting goodbye. That is shameful. And the fact that her husband Chris, had to leave to fight for this country, worrying and wondering if his son and wife were able to make it home should make all of us sick to our stomachs. He was fighting for everyone of us, while his wife was fighting to simply be able to board a plane. <br />
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Ashlynne and I have flown multiple times. In fact, Jordan has flown out here to Kansas to visit us. And NEVER have we been told we needed a doctor's note to board the plane. In fact, when we fly United and Delta, we have always been accommodated, and treated very well. The flight attendants and flight crew always went out of their way to make sure Ashlynne had anything she needed, and was very comfortable. This was a case of a woman, not knowing what she was dealing with, and acting out of fear; fear of the different. And it is beyond sad that in 2019 this is even an issue. <br />
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I thank God that Jackson was too young to understand what was going on, and that Sadie, Jordan's 4 year old, was not with them. I also thank God that this happened to Jordan at the time it did. The Jordan I met 8 years ago wouldn't have spoken up. She would have went quietly into the night, and probably only told a select few people that this even happened to her. However, the Jordan I know today, is a mother, who is not only fighting for herself, but for her son. The Jordan I know now has a voice, and she is using it. I am so proud of her. I am proud of her for being classy, and speaking gracefully in a situation where I wouldn't have been so kind. What if this would have happened to Ashlynne and I? What would that have done to my 16 year old daughter's spirit? Would she ever be brave enough to travel again? Would it cause her to have more doubt in humanity?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ashlynne and Jordan in Nashville, June 2018</td></tr>
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Ashlynne has had to deal with stares her whole, life, and dealt with bullying by exclusion. She has heard the whispers, and noticed that she didn't get invited to birthday parties, or other social events. But we have never had to deal with anything on this level. Honestly, I don't know how I would even begin to handle this. I know I would like to say I would handle it with the dignity and grace that Jordan has, but we all know me here, I doubt that would have happened. <br />
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I have had to stop reading the comments on all of the articles, and shared posts. People are down right cruel some times. I even had one person tell me I need to stop breeding, since my daughter has ichthyosis. But, we have also had those people share similar experiences, and offer words of comfort, and encouraging words about Jordan and Jackson's beauty. My ultimate hope out of this, is that the airlines take pause, and evaluate procedures. There should have been no reason Jordan wasn't allowed to fly on that air plane. But if that airline had questions, why was her luggage checked, and why was she allowed to board, before anyone took note, and humiliated her in front of an entire airplane full of people? People have said that the airline employee was just doing his job, and don't get me wrong, she has said he was very kind, but he wasn't doing his job. He was doing what he was TOLD, but he wasn't doing his job. His job was not to follow someone's act of discrimination. Agree with me or not, that's what this was. A gross discrimination. We have got to start standing up for ourselves if we want to avoid anything like this in the future. Things like this should not be happening. This wouldn't be tolerated if this would have been a family affected with any other genetic disease that is more well known, such as down syndrome, or another skin disorder such as Albinism. So it won't be tolerated this time. I don't know exactly how Jordan will handle things, that is not for me to dictate. I do know, however, that I will continue to share, and discuss how wrong this was, and how policies need to change. I will not go down quietly about this. Something needs to change. And the only way that will happen is if we use our voices. This isn't about Jordan throwing a fit, or anyone trying to get their 15 minutes of fame, as people have accused. It's about right and wrong, and simple human decency.<br />
<br />
As for what Jordan wants, many of you may be curious. When I asked her that question she said "I just want people to take the time to listen, or to put a new protocol/policy in place to prevent further misunderstandings. And I want people to change the way they look at people who may not look like them, whether it's skin color, gender, orientation, nationality, or disability. We are all humans who want to feel accepted no matter where we go."<br />
<br />
I couldn't have said it better myself. Thank you Jordan, for using your voice. You are one of the bravest people I know. I'm honored to call you my "Seester".<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP4NmggX5RevhCvYUn5afmtfbDpO_yICbMV3L9xVRElsz_6OwAOhIctgrolDnIlt_xHFgv3RwVjl8zjjp5twaKadrClcQl6EnE8FDXnfvxsnZ_eoWn2nPQpi4-NNdN1MbUp8HF92C6O58/s1600/IMG_1124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1203" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP4NmggX5RevhCvYUn5afmtfbDpO_yICbMV3L9xVRElsz_6OwAOhIctgrolDnIlt_xHFgv3RwVjl8zjjp5twaKadrClcQl6EnE8FDXnfvxsnZ_eoWn2nPQpi4-NNdN1MbUp8HF92C6O58/s400/IMG_1124.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I would fly anywhere, any time with you</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
OH! And did I mention the irony of this happening on National Rare Disease Day? Yup folks, that's right February 28, every year, is Rare Disease Day. Jordan definitely got her chance to speak out and raise awareness this year in a very unique way, courtesy of American Airlines.<br />
<br />Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-61071742246200494192019-02-10T22:50:00.002-06:002019-02-10T23:14:50.967-06:00What Grief Has Taught Me This YearGrief- noun- deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone's death.<br />
<br />
But that doesn't begin to cover it. I have witnessed enough grief in the past twelve months to last a lifetime. February 11, 2019 marks one year without Justin, 365 whole days. Three hundred and sixty five days that I have watched one of the people closest to my heart trudge through her grief. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq8jYRO6siIP9oW_1XjJKRY4jeRaDlEnvOzknEPN0fKLLwVqur7nqiR0F5w-9KvC4JzBHu1O90yPuxManuHYfZKaqII3nEOsW1nXt0kEtd7c-83IFeZqSMqskeB_5SAHu8q4dw07vq6pE/s1600/Justin+Roping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="768" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq8jYRO6siIP9oW_1XjJKRY4jeRaDlEnvOzknEPN0fKLLwVqur7nqiR0F5w-9KvC4JzBHu1O90yPuxManuHYfZKaqII3nEOsW1nXt0kEtd7c-83IFeZqSMqskeB_5SAHu8q4dw07vq6pE/s320/Justin+Roping.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Justin, doing what he loved.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On February 11, 2018, Justin David Cunningham was found unresponsive in his rodeo trailer. When he failed to show up to the roping arena where he was competing in a roping that weekend, his friends went looking for him, and found him, fighting for his life on the floor of his trailer, a victim of carbon monoxide poisoning. His generator was too close to his living quarters, and due to the cold air, and lack of wind, it came back into the trailer, and made our friend a statistic. One of my very best friends was the love of his life. She was to drive to Loveland, CO to be with him later in the day. She never got to see him alive again. The original plan was for "A" to be with Justin at his roping that weekend, but at the last minute, she went to a concert with a friend. Because of this, "A" has struggled with a tremendous amount of survivor's guilt. All she could say at first, was she should have been with him, while all I can think is, thank God she wasn't. Miraculously, after intensive veterinary care, their little corgi, Maizy, who was in the trailer with Justin, survived. One thing is for sure, this world is a little less bright without Justin in it.<br />
<br />
Justin was a smart ass. He loved to argue. And I mean, LOVED to argue. He would argue just for the sake of it. Even if he had the same view as you, he would take the opposing side, just to make sure your reasoning was sound for your beliefs. He would use big words just to see if he could confuse people. He was one of the most intelligent people I have ever met. And he loved to pick on A's friends, but would do it in a way where you couldn't tell if he was making fun of you, or actually complimenting you. And his compliments... oh they couldn't be matched. One of my favorite memories of him was the time he told me I was actually much more intelligent than I looked.... Thanks Justin. But he said it with that boyish grin that I imagined charmed his way out of many sticky situations in his life. As I type this, I am laughing, with tears rolling down my face, and sorrow in my heart. <br />
<br />
Here is what I have learned over watching, and feeling the grief of Justin's passing: It's not a "process" as they say. There are no steps to grief. You simply have to get through each day. You simply have to breathe. You may have a day, or even two, where it is easier to function. Then, it comes in waves. Like a tsunami, out of nowhere, the waves wash over you, and you can't breath, can't catch your breath. Then the flood after, where you are drained, trying to get your life back on track from the last emotional setback. But, the next day comes. And you may feel like a total trainwreck from being up all night crying, and you may think you don't have it in you to "people" that day, but the world around you doesn't know that. And bills need paid, and jobs need done, and somehow we have to make it through the day. Grief is also not limited to immediate family, or a close circle of friends. No one is safe from grief. Grief has struck me so deeply because of my friendship with Justin, but also because of the immense pain I see A in. My empathtic side has pulled me in, like the undercurrent of a wave. <br />
<br />
Being an empath, I find it impossible to separate A's grief over her loss of Justin from my own grief. I feel every tear she sheds with me on the phone. I feel the gut wrenching blows that she has been dealt since his passing. She was displaced from her home, and there have been battles over possessions, and suddenly, the separation from his family, which she viewed as her own. And deep down in the depths of my soul, I have felt all of this with her. I have cried with her, screamed with her, and struggled with her. This loss has changed her. And it has changed me. For so long now, I have wondered why I have struggled with the loss of Justin so deeply. I loved him, yes, but he wasn't my the love of my life. He wasn't a part of my every day life. He was my best friend's boyfriend, so he was important to me. He was my bud, we joked, we argued for the sake of arguing, and we joined forces and made fun of A together any time we had the chance. But he wasn't my boyfriend, he wasn't my family, so why am I still hurting so badly? And I realized, I'm still grieving. I miss him. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiStiXDSEb2tTk9YcbcEIJCBo0Pm6BbkLNsH2Nph3xOo3vKbP7LswWK9YeDC9ztIWy5dJBKh8b2kPXYUaGkKMK0xGGw6xSA1ZtygcqmLil30u_qPHipDy5knx4tS0YxtH1HKRqXCAMphhc/s1600/Abby+and+Justin.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiStiXDSEb2tTk9YcbcEIJCBo0Pm6BbkLNsH2Nph3xOo3vKbP7LswWK9YeDC9ztIWy5dJBKh8b2kPXYUaGkKMK0xGGw6xSA1ZtygcqmLil30u_qPHipDy5knx4tS0YxtH1HKRqXCAMphhc/s1600/Abby+and+Justin.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite picture of A and Justin. <br />
His smile couldn't be matched. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Here is what I have learned about my friend: While I always knew A was a strong person, I look at her in awe now. She has an amazing family, and an amazing support system, or I don't know how she would have gotten through this past year. Without a doubt, Maizy, and the fact that she survived has given A some light through all of this, but to say her life was turned upside down would be a gross understatement. No 20-something should ever have to deal with being, basically widowed. She cried, and broke down, and mourned, still does, but she has also got up and gone to work, and saved peoples' lives in the ICU, having flashbacks of seeing him in the hospital. She has supported me in my emotional breakdowns that I feel pale in comparison to what she has been dealing with. And she assures me that her grief doesn't stop her from being there for me through things in my own life. She has started classes, to pursue dreams she and Justin had discussed. She is pushing forward. She cries, but she laughs, and she smiles when she talks about him. She makes fun of me when she knows he would take the opportunity, and tries to give his intelligent, great advice when needed. All of this while grieving. She is carrying on, and honoring him by the way she lives. And I am so incredibly proud of the way she has lived over the past 12 months. She is an inspiration in a situation that I hope none of you reading this every have to be inspired to get through. She has counselled people going through similar losses, and offered support to anyone she feels may be in need. She is, quite simply, the best person I know. I know that she will continue to push forward, and continue to amaze all of us close to her. And I know that she will make him so proud, as he always was of her. I know that she will also grieve, sometimes in private, and sometimes, surrounded by the people she loves. What I don't know is when it gets easier. Because 12 months later, 365 whole days later, it's not easier. I still miss him terribly, so I can't imagine the depths of her sorrow and emptiness. <br />
<br />
Don't ever let anyone put a timeline on your grief. Don't listen to the "you should be moving on by now" or "you should be doing certain things by now" advice. I have grieved many losses in my life, but all differently. No loss is ever the same for any person. Every loss hits every person differently, and at different times, in different ways. You just have to dig deep in yourself, and find whatever motivation you need, and you simply fight. Fight for that day. Then fight for the next day.<br />
<br />
You can do this. Just fight... Just breathe....Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-11171436522048024212018-07-08T22:58:00.001-05:002018-07-08T23:13:55.080-05:00What I learned as a coach this summerI love and adore my kids. I love and adore my friends' kids. But I can totally cop to my weak points, and patience isn't one of my strong virtues. At most events that are swarming with kids, you can find me kind of fading off into the corner, trying to keep my anxiety at bay. And let's be honest, I know that Breckyn and I butt heads more than the average mom/daughter combo.<br />
<br />
So when I got asked to help coach the Abilene Attack 8 and Under softball league and traveling team that Breckyn would be playing on this summer, I really didn't know how well I was going to do, or even how much I would like it. Was playing in a weekend long coach pitch tournament going to be like watching paint dry? By the end of the season, was I going to want to run away? Or after each practice or game, was I going to be running for my car as fast as I could in search of the nearest bottle of wine? Was I going to be able to coach Breckyn without absolutely terrifying the other girls, or catching a battery charge? But, softball is in my blood. I have been on that field since I was four years old, and if I was going to give coaching a try, I guess this summer was as good a time as any to find out if it would be a good fit for me. But before I knew it, these 10 little boogers wormed their way into my heart, and I fell in love with them all.<br />
<br />
So this summer, when I signed up to teach a group of 10 eight year old girls the fundamentals of softball, they ended up teaching me some of the fundamentals of life. They reminded me that we should all strive to be a little more child like.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04knJ_wejvM8Pw_99-XIyc_yTTDav-6SEnyYi8ZMoqiCDPSz0fB7nTYwJboj9prau-38cuF0ydLu8DQk72KJJgIxCbFDRMM83b6BIlF9fA_nSBOmjUrw9jrm3x47kzVtZ51qFRRDPp2w/s1600/IMG_1029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04knJ_wejvM8Pw_99-XIyc_yTTDav-6SEnyYi8ZMoqiCDPSz0fB7nTYwJboj9prau-38cuF0ydLu8DQk72KJJgIxCbFDRMM83b6BIlF9fA_nSBOmjUrw9jrm3x47kzVtZ51qFRRDPp2w/s320/IMG_1029.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breckyn, being coached on first base in her <br />
first ever tournament game.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
They showed me that kids, really just want to see each other succeed. There were no cliques out on that field. It didn't matter who was in who's class, or who had a nicer house, or who had nicer clothes, or whether or not they had played on the same team before. When those 10 girls were on the field together, they were one team. They were cheering each other on. Celebrating each other's successes together, and encouraging each other when a goal wasn't reached. They didn't hold grudges against a team mate for striking out, or not getting an out. Instead, they helped them work on how to get it the next time. Some of the more experienced girls would pair up with the younger ones, like Breckyn, to play catch. In fact, we had a girl who had never played softball before a day in her life, and she was accepted just like the others who had played for several years. It didn't matter skill level, or years of experiece, they just wanted to play catch with their friends. <br />
<br />
They pushed each other. They knew what their team mates were capable of, and they pushed them to do their best. Not one single time did I hear one of those girls begrudge another on their great hit, or nice play. They were proud of them. They were happy for their friends. There was ZERO jealousy. Some of these girls might not have even known each other before the season started. But they found something they all had in common, softball, and they let it form a friendship among all of them. They never shunned another one because she wasn't in their circle. Everyone was included. The more the merrier. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi47ON3KyutBu0nODz56GUm7DEOZZBSnAo-BCAFRYLql2GVapTXEnAwJWPU7t7FIvinj6ozzhkn0FueR6B6_8HiCKrBPCrWZN7u9hC6rDLqlNTgMxX-e_EDTiIroRmwSPjkBoCENgPnrtk/s1600/IMG_1031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi47ON3KyutBu0nODz56GUm7DEOZZBSnAo-BCAFRYLql2GVapTXEnAwJWPU7t7FIvinj6ozzhkn0FueR6B6_8HiCKrBPCrWZN7u9hC6rDLqlNTgMxX-e_EDTiIroRmwSPjkBoCENgPnrtk/s320/IMG_1031.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Between games were some of my favorite times. I love the<br />
commraderie that is formed on tournament teams. Some of<br />
my best summer memories growing up were made hanging out<br />
with my softball team between games.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We had some great times at tournaments in between games, hanging out, playing, and telling stories. Eating our sandwiches, and cooling off in the shade, bonds were formed, both among the girls, and among the parents. Most of the parents, I already knew, but I got to know them more than just on the surface. And we all got to do something very important to us all, which was cheer on our girls.<br />
<br />
We also had some pretty somber moments. One of the girls on the team lost her dad, very unexpectedly mid-season. She missed a game because of it, and when she was gone, the girls weren't being nosy, asking what happened, they were just asking about their friend. They just wanted to see her, and know that she was ok. They just wanted to make her feel better. They just wanted to support their friend, no questions asked. They didn't want to know what was in it for them, they just wanted to make her feel better. And when she came back, you better believe, those other nine girls were her biggest cheerleaders on that field and in that dugout, trying to get her mind off of everything else going on. When those 10 girls got the opportunity to step out on the field together, they got to shut out the rest of the world, and just play softball with nine of their best friends. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVOpKTUxJY2utHGqihf_PHalUQ8pAFeEadSLwspZDTM5jumszOqSVdukVvHdt3XjY7B4Ld75_PNiypw4L8u-JgL0XvPGh77JDxu4v_4M8WZD0A1QMm7Nk8kYNOTaGTA29tBV8tnYgDrO0/s1600/IMG_1093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVOpKTUxJY2utHGqihf_PHalUQ8pAFeEadSLwspZDTM5jumszOqSVdukVvHdt3XjY7B4Ld75_PNiypw4L8u-JgL0XvPGh77JDxu4v_4M8WZD0A1QMm7Nk8kYNOTaGTA29tBV8tnYgDrO0/s400/IMG_1093.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm so proud of these girls for working their tails off and <br />
making so much progress this year!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We went undefeated in league, and lost a few travel team games. I can't take credit for this. Our head coach did most of the work. I was just support staff. But these young ladies showed me so much about good sportsmanship. They won with dignity, and lost with their heads held high. Not once, did I ever hear them taunting the other team, or talking trash, that we too often hear with older kids in the sporting world. There were never bats slammed down, or helmets thrown. There was only high fives, and words of encouragement. I was so proud of every single one of them. Six out of the 10 girls will be moving up to the next age bracket next year, and they won't be on the same team as Breckyn. So our team won't be together again next year. I will have a new group of girls to work with next year. I'm going to miss those girls so much next year, but I know they will do amazingly well at the next level. And I'm not going to lie, I shed a tear or two after our last game.<br />
<br />
Wouldn't it be nice if we, as grown women (and men) could get back to that? If we could eliminate cliques, and social stigmas, how much nicer would this world be? If we could go back to those innocent days, and for an hour and a half at night, we got to just hang out with friends, playing the sport we love, how lucky would we be?<br />
<br />
To the parents of my girls, thank you so much for sharing your girls with me this summer. Thank you for letting your girls remind me about so many of the good things in life. Thank you for trusting me to help guide them in their growth in this sport that I love so much. But most of all, thank you for making this experience a positive one for me. To Jeff, thank you for giving me the chance to be your assistant coach. You will never know how much that means to me. You, and this group of girls, made my summer. And for that, I will forever be grateful to you. Will I coach again? If I'm given the chance, absolutely. And whether I have the same group of girls again or not, know that I will always be cheering this group of 10 girls on no matter what. For they have taught me more that I ever could have taught them in one summer.<br />
<br />
Now everyone put your hands in... "Attack" on 3! We got this girls!<br />
<br />
<br />
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Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-74684093340912540862018-07-04T15:21:00.001-05:002018-07-04T15:22:19.169-05:00F.I.R.S.T. National Family Conference 2018Every two years, <a href="http://www.firstskinfoundation.org/">F.I.R.S.T.</a> holds a national family conference for families affected by Ichthyosis. This year, we got to take on Nashville, TN.<br />
<br />
We drove the whole way, which was quite the cramped road trip. I, being the wanderer that I am, wanted to stop and sightsee. You know, a lot of my childhood memories on vacation were made on the journey, not once we reached the destination. Russ, on the other hand, was on a mission to get there, and get out of the truck. So, since he was behind the wheel, straight to Nashville it was...<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKgh5X2TuqNbpp_UM1ErRKxmzqWraSyq4aoB0WHs8VMvfMaRndBkU6EEqmJ-6933kP9AzZNyUY7WrVE-ul8TVGZ5sQwUM7yX-y044BracXDNSUfE3lGSmFwTNNEwgZTuYvQp6KRR8EgBc/s1600/Breckyn+and+Brenna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKgh5X2TuqNbpp_UM1ErRKxmzqWraSyq4aoB0WHs8VMvfMaRndBkU6EEqmJ-6933kP9AzZNyUY7WrVE-ul8TVGZ5sQwUM7yX-y044BracXDNSUfE3lGSmFwTNNEwgZTuYvQp6KRR8EgBc/s320/Breckyn+and+Brenna.jpg" width="240" /></a>This was a first for the Cossel family. Our first time spending any time in Nashville, and also our first time taking all four kids to the conference. In the past, we have just taken the older two. To be honest, I was a little worried about taking the "littles", as we call them. At 7 and 9, I wondered how much they would really understand. Does Breckyn even look at her sister and realize she's different? Would she recognize these other kids as having the same skin disorder her sister does? Would she understand that different severities of the condition? Does Logan, who IDOLIZES Ashlynne, notice how much of our lives Ashlynne's ichthyosis affects? Or does he just think this is normal? I really thought this would be a profound experience for them... And it wasn't. <br />
<br />
I don't mean that in a bad way. I mean it in a perfectly beautiful way. My children didn't shy away from the other kids at the conference. In fact, both of them gravitated towards the kids with ichthyosis, rather than the kids without. I think they saw the beautiful souls in these children. I think kids see past all of the things that adults get hung up on. And this weekend just drove that point home for me. This was just a weekend, in a really cool hotel, with a pool, a dance, and a bunch of new friends. In fact, it kind of worried me some with Breckyn. She met a little friend, Brenna, who is merely a few months younger than her, only much smaller because of her ichthyosis, and Breckyn kept trying to pick her up and carry her everywhere. Brenna eventually let her know that she was over it, after many attempts of me trying to get her to stop. Breckyn didn't hesitate to touch, and love on these other kiddos. She threw all caution out of the window and was just Breckyn. And Logan, he met a new best friend, Miles, who has the same type of Ichthyosis as Ashlynne. He loved how much Miles looks like his sister.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIhFaIRp35O5drSs2_c5FJFeqTzGE-IEiTMsOz60K8g_4wQ9gbDPvQijnTGUrU-ix_yvAc2UidSYYAgtbH-dsvsdcCu2lvBbqx-9e6-ZfNo9kh-GURht6_eBonVrf6VcvrqbFznWq-fss/s1600/squad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIhFaIRp35O5drSs2_c5FJFeqTzGE-IEiTMsOz60K8g_4wQ9gbDPvQijnTGUrU-ix_yvAc2UidSYYAgtbH-dsvsdcCu2lvBbqx-9e6-ZfNo9kh-GURht6_eBonVrf6VcvrqbFznWq-fss/s320/squad.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of "The Squad"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
Ashlynne and Gavin, however, reconnected with a bunch of old friends, which they named "the Squad". This group of teens and preteens was practically inseparable all weekend, and had some pretty interesting stories for all of us. I walked up to the table they were all sitting at one point, and they were all texting each other in their group chat from across the table.... I guess it's a millennial thing... But I get the feeling the "squad" will do a great job keeping in touch, and making more memories. They also sat on the panel of a teen panel, where parents and younger kids could pick their brain about growing up with Ichthyosis. I was so proud of them for answering questions honestly, and in front of a large group of people. This was something a few years ago I never would have seen Ashlynne doing. These are her people, and this is where she feels most comfortable. I feel like these conferences "recharge" her to be able to get her through the next couple of years of life. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5wN-e0nK0qveZPELXY2h3G6KLwytQdh-l6PbAh8bkrPEGzS5bJbX8VAo5KRnpIiJe5NJxZjUa-mXOa9RkOocs0uNGktc628h5Pr_fBgnvgoW5_m3Wx5yBYbtXa98KDFY-nc7BVwIE1g/s1600/IMG_1125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5wN-e0nK0qveZPELXY2h3G6KLwytQdh-l6PbAh8bkrPEGzS5bJbX8VAo5KRnpIiJe5NJxZjUa-mXOa9RkOocs0uNGktc628h5Pr_fBgnvgoW5_m3Wx5yBYbtXa98KDFY-nc7BVwIE1g/s1600/IMG_1125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5wN-e0nK0qveZPELXY2h3G6KLwytQdh-l6PbAh8bkrPEGzS5bJbX8VAo5KRnpIiJe5NJxZjUa-mXOa9RkOocs0uNGktc628h5Pr_fBgnvgoW5_m3Wx5yBYbtXa98KDFY-nc7BVwIE1g/s320/IMG_1125.JPG" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div>
Jordan has become one of my best</div>
<div>
friends. I couldn't do life without</div>
<div>
her!!</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The highlight of the conference is always the talent show and dance that is held Saturday evening. These kiddos, that are normally shy, and hiding behind their parents because they are tired of the stares, or afraid of not fitting in, get to get behind a microphone, or a piano, and shine. I normally start crying before the singing even starts. Their bravery, and pure talent amazes me. I wish I was half the person that most of these kiddos are. They inspire me, every single day of my life. At the Saturday night festivities, we also got to meet baby Anna. Her mom has a blog, and a facebook page, Hope for Anna, and she is the most stylish, sweet little baby you could ever see! Ashlynne was in heaven getting to hold her and play with her. I think it seriously put the cherry on top of the conference for her! <br />
<br />
For me, it was a much needed family reunion with my "second family". The relationships that I have formed with these other moms, dads, and children, as well as faculty and staff are irreplaceable. They get it. We get to share our anger, and bitterness for what the world has thrown at us, and we get to celebrate our own beautiful. We get to support each other in this exclusive club, that none of us asked to be in, yet we have grown to love over the years. These are my people. These are the ones who keep me going on my bad days. The ones who I can text, and vent to, because my heart is broken that my daughter can't have a typical teenage experience. The ones I can call when I don't feel like I can handle yet another doctor's appointment. These are the ones who cheer me on, because they are right there with me. Mom's Group, which is held on Saturday, is always a huge release for all of us moms, and definitely my favorite part. It involves advice from us seasoned moms to the new ones. And when I was in their shoes, it was the best thing that happened to me. I was able to let it all out. And continue to do so every year. But it wasn't all venting and crying. Good memories are always made. Maybe a few too many glasses of wine were involved, but nonetheless, there were good times!<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgptJh-TR1rsVajy0y5X8tJoMUU0gLKw47IQpy9TdcDUquZxBAcprpaLPNfsqGgw7PhqIN4S-48EPYLl1x0-6VVwyC9Iaf4xr6TZ8_XxeDiG_1xqffEz_5foBp42GidfbADjAVd-T85UoY/s1600/IMG_1097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgptJh-TR1rsVajy0y5X8tJoMUU0gLKw47IQpy9TdcDUquZxBAcprpaLPNfsqGgw7PhqIN4S-48EPYLl1x0-6VVwyC9Iaf4xr6TZ8_XxeDiG_1xqffEz_5foBp42GidfbADjAVd-T85UoY/s320/IMG_1097.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div>
Ashlynne, teaching Matt, all about the Nintendo</div>
<div>
Switch. Matt is dad to Calvin, who also has</div>
<div>
ichthyosis, as well as younger twins!</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5wN-e0nK0qveZPELXY2h3G6KLwytQdh-l6PbAh8bkrPEGzS5bJbX8VAo5KRnpIiJe5NJxZjUa-mXOa9RkOocs0uNGktc628h5Pr_fBgnvgoW5_m3Wx5yBYbtXa98KDFY-nc7BVwIE1g/s1600/IMG_1125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>In two years, I will get to see these people again face to face. And I will also meet new families, that like myself 15 years ago, had never even hear the word "ichthyosis". And new members of this club, that non of asked to be a member of, will join our "family". Until then, the text messages, face time, and facebook groups will have to get us through. Saying goodbye is always the hard part. But we have to say goodbye, to go back into our own corners of the world, and to allow our kids to continue making this world a better place with their absolute awesomeness.<span id="goog_1497503927"></span> <br />
<br />
<span id="goog_1497503926"></span><br />Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-3172277332572005602018-05-02T19:52:00.002-05:002018-05-02T19:52:38.416-05:00"Celebrating" Ichthyosis Awareness Month 2018<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9y0hXPh1i_6lUsMqGycBVfQqFxXsHIIKfhhRhTFrk78PxXoX2Z7-7cC0xyS2-RaNi4IoagbDXiBL0GXwSWe3YMnu5M2tpBJQo5MtVs3p6cedUqeEAUmk4m6wqpSKJ6nt7byqO05oy260/s1600/IMG_0862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9y0hXPh1i_6lUsMqGycBVfQqFxXsHIIKfhhRhTFrk78PxXoX2Z7-7cC0xyS2-RaNi4IoagbDXiBL0GXwSWe3YMnu5M2tpBJQo5MtVs3p6cedUqeEAUmk4m6wqpSKJ6nt7byqO05oy260/s320/IMG_0862.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What's not to celebrate about this beautiful human being?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
May is Ichthyosis Awareness Month, so let's celebrate!!! "Celebrating" wouldn't have been a word I would have used to describe Ichthyosis in the early years of my daughter's life. If someone would have told me Ichthyosis was something to celebrate, I would have scoffed at them, no doubt about it. But... I grew up, emotionally, and changed my perspective. And now I choose to celebrate the beautiful things in life. <br />
<br />
So what is Ichthyosis? And what exactly is it that I am celebrating about it? Well, Ichthyosis is the disease, or "disorder", that my daughter was born with. It's a skin disorder. A SEVERE skin disorder. It's not just dry flaky skin. It's a lot of scientific stuff that I could get in to, and over the years have even learned to understand. But if I explained it to the average person that hasn't spent hours upon hours in the dermatologist's office, and sat through countless specialist's appointments, it would sound like a foreign language. Basically, my daughter's skin sucks. It doesn't work like it should. She looks like she has been burned. It causes so many problems beyond her skin that most people don't realize. And honestly, right now, I don't feel like going in to all of that. What I want to go in to is the beautiful side of this disease. The side that I have only really come to accept in the past few years. I could spend time focusing on the exhausting side of it. Like the fact that she started high school this year, so we have a whole new administration, and a whole new set of teachers that we have to educate on her limitations and needs. Or like the fact that spring has barely started, and we're already dealing with overheating, and all that the weather changes bring. But I'm not going to focus on these things today. I'm going to focus on what I love about ichthyosis.<br />
<br />
Like the fact that my daughter is a survivor. Things were scary when she was born. We didn't know how long her life would be, or what quality of life she would have. But she is thriving. She is healthy, and happy. This year, we have lost several people with ichthyosis in our small little community. Some I knew, some I didn't. Some were here in America, some were not. Some were young, some were older. One was a beautiful, young mother of two, who just didn't wake up one morning. So the fact that my daughter has survived is something to celebrate.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinWeGEF2FpYztVTp22OnNhEGgiUGHuELQDuiwnO6Aw7pQRvBkU2hgdTUGcCXI7jfTn3UvZ8kGQ4DqjnDDUVyEEH1CvWIHgwIcFpVTk_B1OWbdipF2vFlLLhWVpd-f7vYCLoHLaLoyR4hM/s1600/LAIJ4724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinWeGEF2FpYztVTp22OnNhEGgiUGHuELQDuiwnO6Aw7pQRvBkU2hgdTUGcCXI7jfTn3UvZ8kGQ4DqjnDDUVyEEH1CvWIHgwIcFpVTk_B1OWbdipF2vFlLLhWVpd-f7vYCLoHLaLoyR4hM/s320/LAIJ4724.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating friends, like this one, Jordan,<br />
who is also new mommy to Jackson.<br />
Jordan, whois affected with the same kind<br />
of ichthyosis as Ashlynne has become one <br />
of my very bestfriends over the years.<br />
I don't know what I would do without her!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
New life. My friend Jordan, who has ichthyosis as well, had her second baby this year. Handsome little Jackson, came into this world, affected with Ichthyosis, and he is gorgeous! We will get to meet Jackson this summer, and see his big sister, and the rest of their family. Jackson is just one of the several babies born with ichthyosis this year, whose families are connected with <a href="http://www.firstskinfoundation.org/" target="_blank">F.I.R.S.T</a>. and will have the opportunity to connect with the rest of us, and support each other in our journey.<br />
<br />
Another thing? In two short months, we will get to convene with many of the friends we have made over the last few years, including Jordan and her family, my friends Jolie, and Kelly and their kiddos, and many others, that are all affected in one way or another by Ichthyosis, at the bi-annual F.I.R.S.T. conference. I will get to meet some of these families, who have welcomed in new life, that has introduced them to Ichthyosis, just like Ashlynne introduced me to it 15 years ago. And this year, we're hitting Nashville. It is a solid four days of hanging out with people who just get it. Moms, who go through what I do. Kids, who go through what Ashlynne does. Siblings, who go through what my other three kiddos go through watching their sister struggle daily. Grandparents, and dads, who all struggle to see their loved ones struggle with health issues, on top of normal life issues. I'm sensing a "Mom's night out" in our future, ladies! Can't wait to see you all and take on Nashville.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin-XIdLR7O2UtpKWGyf6GSe_HvttO1OfGmqXuAur_nxTFtqny-SOL2NY67kKSPxxVXKHle0Mwmv-zBEz8IoC3nrodeGf7wn_OUs00pNFskXurBoPAOImXUTzTRWWjNcaT_QSFJzJHcVlA/s1600/IMG_4725.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin-XIdLR7O2UtpKWGyf6GSe_HvttO1OfGmqXuAur_nxTFtqny-SOL2NY67kKSPxxVXKHle0Mwmv-zBEz8IoC3nrodeGf7wn_OUs00pNFskXurBoPAOImXUTzTRWWjNcaT_QSFJzJHcVlA/s320/IMG_4725.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the other girls wear a dress to Homecoming?<br />
She wasn't having it! She rocked her romper and <br />
there was no shame in her game! She is who she is,<br />
with no apologies!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm celebrating the fact that public awareness seems to be growing! Believe it or not, we have actually had people recognize what skin disorder Ashlynne has. I'm sure a large part of this is due to F.I.R.S.T. But it is also due the families that have worked tirelessly to spread awareness so that their kids may have an easier life. Ichthyosis also got a mention on "Grace and Frankie", which made me squeal like a little school girl! Movin on up, folks!!!<br />
<br />
I'm celebrating Ashlynne's goofy side. She has dealt with people staring at her her entire life, so she just doesn't care. She has thrown all inhibitions out the window, and has embraced who she is. And I love it. She wears what she wants, enjoys what she wants, and acts as goofy as she wants, without worrying about a single thing that someone might think. Good for her. If only we were all this secure with who we are, the world might be a bit of a different place.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgodOkQISLyjwcqEu2JcklAXIxiYBj3GXlf4xfC8OOhX-C4HpakH-R-mRo2KdF0BU3xSgh0KtTaP-78K8S6jJC4NU4-LzZMismpJkGL3Wwam9T1lLrRroQKL6-7RTGB42TBZoJpaetX0OY/s1600/IMG_4727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgodOkQISLyjwcqEu2JcklAXIxiYBj3GXlf4xfC8OOhX-C4HpakH-R-mRo2KdF0BU3xSgh0KtTaP-78K8S6jJC4NU4-LzZMismpJkGL3Wwam9T1lLrRroQKL6-7RTGB42TBZoJpaetX0OY/s320/IMG_4727.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ashlynne is surrounded with good friends. <br />
we are blessed to have these beauties, inside<br />
and out, in our lives!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm celebrating some of the other really good kids that are in the world. The kids that are good to my kiddo and the other kids in the world that may not be just like everyone else. You know, those kids that don't care if they are blending in, and are willing to stick up for a friend. I'm celebrating the fact that when Ashlynne is feeling lonely, she always has a couple of really good friends that pull through for her. And I'm celebrating these kids' parents, who have raised their children to be loving, and compassionate, and to be all around good kids, that will become good adults.<br />
<br />
Take advantage of this while you can, readers. Tomorrow, I may be angry again. I may be mad that my daughter was up all night again with one of her infamous bloody noses. Or I may be mad that she can't walk home, or hang out outside with her friends, because the temperature is over 75, and believe it or not, that's too hot for her. I may be angry that some people just can't look past her red skin, and see the beautiful person she is. And I may be mad that she has to deal with all of this crap. I may be asking, "why her?" and wallowing in self pity. I may be mad that "normal" things, are sometimes just a bit harder for her. But today, I'm ok. I'm celebrating. <br />
<br />
Cheers!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-60570569162039513382017-12-07T14:23:00.002-06:002017-12-07T14:23:23.888-06:00An open letter to my Ex and his new brideDear D and K,<br />
<br />
Congratulations. I mean this from the bottom of my heart. I could not be more happy for the two of you. You two have just started the journey of your lives together, and I want you to know, you have my full support. I will always have BOTH of your backs. <br />
<br />
To K (the new bride):<br />
<br />
Welcome to the family. Yes, I said "family". For even though we are not together, and haven't been for years, we have continued to function like a family for G's sake. Not a traditional family by any sense of the word, but the family unit we have created. We still do holidays and birthdays together, and we still hang out. He is my best friend. You have just married my best friend. I know that sounds funny, coming from his ex, but it's true. We were two very imperfect people, who made a perfect son. But over the years, we have done a very good job of continuing to love each other. Not in the sense of being hung up on each other, or longing for each other, but in the sense of respecting each other because we have given each other the greatest gift imaginable; our son. Through peacefully co-parenting in the beginning, to a deep friendship now, we have a unique situation. People have always thought our relationship was odd. I go to his house parties, he takes my children that aren't his to his house for the weekend, we talk regularly, and sit together at ball games. We are friends. It is the best possible scenario for our son. You have accepted this, even embraced it. And you have become my friend too. That's how I know you're right for him. Please be good to him, better than I was. Please handle his heart with care. <br />
<br />
On top of being a newlywed to my friend, you are now my son's new stepmom. And I don't think I could have picked a better one for him. See, I've always wanted to know (and approve) of whoever D ended up with, because I knew this person would have a huge impact on my son. God forbid, if anything ever happened to me, you're it. You would be his mom. So it has always been important to me to know this woman who would have such a huge role in his life. I WANTED to know you, and be your friend. I want you to know me. I want you to know how much I love my son. I want you to know and support how he is raised, and what I expect of him. Lucky for me, you are very willing to have this type of relationship with me. I see it already. I see the love you have for him. I see how you have his back, and how you bring tenderness to the house that was formerly a dude's pad. I have complete confidence that you will make that house a home. I am a step mom too. And at times it seems like a very thankless job. You're behind the scenes, making sure everything is ready for when he is at your house, making sure presents are bought for birthdays and holidays, and most of the time, it's Dad that gets the recognition. Know that I know, and I see. I know, and am thankful for all you already do, and all you will do for him throughout the years. I hope you always have my back, and I will always have yours. We girls have to stick together ;).<br />
<br />
To D (the groom):<br />
<br />
Congratulations, my friend. I'm so happy for you. You know for years I have worried about you. I have worried about you being alone in that house when G isn't there. I worried the loneliness would at some point over take you, and your old demons would come back to haunt you. But in your happiness, I have peace. I know that K does and excellent job of keeping you in check. And I see in your eyes that she does an excellent job of keeping you happy as well. <br />
<br />
Be good to her. Better than you were to me. Better than we were to each other. Learn from the mistakes that were made with us. Create the life you always imagined. But most importantly, love her. Love her through her flaws. Love her on those days where she just may not feel like being perfect, and shouldering the load, for we all have those days. Love is an action, not a feeling. She is good to you, and good to our son. You finally found what you have been waiting for all these years. Enjoy every little moment.<br />
<br />
Be good to her son. You are now a step parent. As long as you treat her son how you expect her to treat G, you will be on the right path. And try to remember, there is no such thing as "step" kids. They're just kids. You have gained another kid. Our crazy, messy family unit now has another little guy in it. Thank you for bringing that blessing to us. Kids can never have too many people to love them. Remember that. Remember that being a step parent is often a thankless job. K may not say "thank you" for all that you do, but she is thankful, and her little guy is too. Just remember, you won't get praised for everything. Don't expect it. It may not be seen at the time, but some day, he will look back and know you were there for him. <br />
<br />
As you make new traditions with your new wife, know that I understand some things may change with us, as they should. You may not come to me for a woman's perspective on things, or relationship advice. It may not be me you call when you need to vent about something. You may not be at all of my family functions anymore, because you have your new in-laws to consider. I don't begrudge this. I am happy for you. But I want you to know that you are still, and always will be welcome, as are she and little man. We have just added more to this chaos we call our family. <br />
<br />
With much love,<br />
CoraCora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-13053201565273888752017-11-15T20:51:00.001-06:002017-11-15T21:01:53.347-06:00Mommin' Ain't EasyToday was one of those mom days no one warns you about. To be quite honest, it sucked. It was one of those days where you want to run away, and not look back. After you leave a list of what needs taken care of and maintained while you're gone, of course.<br />
<br />
You know, a couple of years ago, I would have felt awful for admitting that. Frankly, I probably wouldn't have admitted it. I would have felt like I was going to be judged for saying something even remotely along those lines. And I'm sure there are people out there that will judge this post. But they obviously have perfect children. Normally, I can find a way to laugh these things off, and somehow make my blogs about these kinds of things humorous, and today, I can't even do that. Earlier this evening, I was talking to one of my old teachers, whom I have an immense amount of admiration and respect for, and she basically told me that as far as life goes, I'm killin it.... I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.<br />
<br />
My youngest has been sick. Has had a fever off and on for 6 days now. I've taken her to the doctor and got the standard, "it's probably viral and will have to run its course" and sent on our way response. By now, day 6, she is sick of being sick, and I'm sick of her being sick. Selfishly, I can't deal with the whining anymore, I have stuff I need to get done, and I want her to go play on her own, rather that wanting me to wait on her hand and foot. I mean, I distinctly remember at least twice, looking at her, wondering if this is my karma. Like, are we sure I'm cut out for this? I. Need. A. Break. And that's ok. <br />
<br />
I refuse to feel bad about the fact that I am human, and I have human emotions. I don't know about all of you other moms, but being a mom didn't give me the super power of having and endless fountain of patience flowing from my inner self. It didn't give me complete and utter selflessness. And it certainly didn't give me and endless amount of energy. See, in my opinion, there is far too much mom shaming that goes on in this world. This expert says don't spank. That expert says don't say "no", offer another option. Do this, do that, don't do this, don't do that. As mothers, we are told far too often how we are doing it all wrong, when in all honesty, we're all just winging it. We are all flying by the seat of our pants, keeping our fingers crossed, and hoping for the best. There is no such thing as a parenting expert. How can anyone really be an expert at something where there are no two like subjects? See, all of these little humans running around are actual people, with people emotions, and personalities, and no two humans are exactly alike. And Moms, the same goes for us. We're human.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwrY57NSWQ5fK_clTT9aQII-qV24J6exU2zMqjJZx_SojlB1TEfelY_RQOP3EPY_9Y-WZ5fD9M4xe6Xxku0C8839zsWvhoPPYWbxluDeZQn0xR23AY60RWo-JBOVb24tuWQ8061UjJVqM/s1600/IMG_4649.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwrY57NSWQ5fK_clTT9aQII-qV24J6exU2zMqjJZx_SojlB1TEfelY_RQOP3EPY_9Y-WZ5fD9M4xe6Xxku0C8839zsWvhoPPYWbxluDeZQn0xR23AY60RWo-JBOVb24tuWQ8061UjJVqM/s320/IMG_4649.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love these little turds, and don't know what I <br />
would do without them. Although sometimes<br />
I wouldn't mind an extended solo vacation...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was given all of this advice when I was a new mom such as "never discipline when you're angry" or "never go to bed mad". And quite frankly, that's bullshit (pardon the language, Mom). Of course we're going to discipline when we're angry, and of course we're going to go to bed mad. There's going to be times we even wake up mad. And maybe even stay mad through out the whole next day. Why? Because we're HUMAN. We can't control how we feel. So stop feeling bad about it. Feelings are the only thing in this life that are what they are. You can't change them, you can't force them. you can't control them. You can't just snap your fingers and be un-mad. Now, we don't have to drag out the punishment for days. Yes, when we wake up, tomorrow is a chance to start over. But I have the right to still, in the back of my mind, be a little pissed off that my whole day off got ruined by constant fit throwing. I'm salty. So what???<br />
<br />
When I wake up tomorrow, I will probably still be a little mad. But you know what? I will still love my kid. And she will still love me. I will still give her a kiss and hug and tell her I love her. And she will do the same. I will still tell her to have a great day, and mean it. And I will not allow myself to feel bad about having a bad mom day. It happens to all of us, whether we want to admit it or not. <br />
<br />
My ultimate hope for my kids is that they always know, no matter what, I tried my best. I'm sure that I have made plenty of mom mistakes, I'm sure I made a few today, but I'm doing my best. so to all you moms out there, you're doing a good job! You're mazing, and beautiful, and someone out there is looking up to you right at this very moment. Don't forget that!<br />
<br />
But for now, I'm not going to worry about tomorrow. I'm gonna go pour myself a glass of wine, turn on some Pandora to angry rock and roll music, take a bubble bath, and try to forget this day ever happened. Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-91136588404513060712017-05-03T23:30:00.002-05:002017-05-03T23:30:34.983-05:00Ichthyosis Awareness Month: May 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOm-4X6lvJeUHanuojM4vpIVPntArRIAMbPceX_jkSoXXFx_tvG1WxtDTzegDgB8xRWFtdl9BbVTl6-YrZsIug_rU_J2lsmjP4Gm6tVQAOXSJ4AQe_KIQQXULn-C2QDrJP7hPRwZsqGvY/s1600/QSFC9564.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOm-4X6lvJeUHanuojM4vpIVPntArRIAMbPceX_jkSoXXFx_tvG1WxtDTzegDgB8xRWFtdl9BbVTl6-YrZsIug_rU_J2lsmjP4Gm6tVQAOXSJ4AQe_KIQQXULn-C2QDrJP7hPRwZsqGvY/s1600/QSFC9564.jpeg" /></a></div>
As May rolls around each year I question what I can do different this year from last to raise awareness about Icthyosis, the genetic skin disease my daughter was born with. It has, over the more recent years, become important to me to help raise awareness as my love/hate relationship with Ichthyosis has become more about love and less about hate.<br />
<br />
In the early years of Ashlynne's life, I couldn't have cared less about raising awareness. All I wanted was for these doctors to get on the ball and find a cure for my kid, and the other children and adults that were affected by this disease. But as I have found an inner peace with our situation, I have realized that by raising awareness about Ichthyosis, I am not only educating people on our particular situation, but hopefully spreading awareness about compassion in general. Ichthyosis is by far not the only disease that carries with it a visual difference. There is the more common ones, such as cleft pallets, and Down Syndrome. But there are also the more uncommon ones such as Progeria, and Trisomy 18. And while some are more well known than others, and are all very different diseases, they all carry something in common: They all present with visual physical differences. And MOST of the kids and adults affected with these various diseases know they are different. And they know you're staring. And it stings. <br />
<br />
I know most people don't mean to be rude. They don't mean to stare. If it's something you've never seen, it's a natural reaction to do a double take. You're curious. Maybe you want to get educated. Maybe you want to go home, and google and try to figure out why the little girl in the mall had such red, dry skin. It looked like a burn, but maybe it wasn't? Maybe you have the best of intentions. I think most people do. Most people's hearts go out to those with differences. We, as adults, know what a tough world this is, and we hate this for these kiddos. But the kiddos getting the stares don't know that. They just know that yet another person looked a little too long, or stopped in their tracks, or whispered to their friends, and tried not to make it obvious they were talking about them. They just know that yet another person noticed they were different than the other kids on the playground. They just became a little more self conscious. They just pulled into their shell a little more.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOm-4X6lvJeUHanuojM4vpIVPntArRIAMbPceX_jkSoXXFx_tvG1WxtDTzegDgB8xRWFtdl9BbVTl6-YrZsIug_rU_J2lsmjP4Gm6tVQAOXSJ4AQe_KIQQXULn-C2QDrJP7hPRwZsqGvY/s1600/QSFC9564.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
So how long is too long to look? I guess I don't have the magic answer for that. If my kid wasn't "different" I don't know that I would even think about these scenarios. But I do know there are gentle ways to handle it if you do notice a kiddo with a difference. Smile. Don't rush your child away if they become curious. It's ok to ask. You're children are learning from you how to handle diversity in people. Be the person you want them to grow to be. Don't just stand there with your jaw on the ground. Don't stop dead in your tracks. Don't point. Don't whisper. They can see you. Their parents can see you. Their siblings, and friends, can see you. And we all know our loved one is different. So just smile. Say hi. Ask. Get educated.<br />
<br />
Become aware. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.firstskinfoundation.org/">WWW.FIRSTSKINFOUNDATION.ORG</a>Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-76179867004364349252017-03-02T08:57:00.001-06:002017-03-02T08:57:15.731-06:00The Hair Emporium... revised<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlwg0zOKX4UGXxFaIpBEzHZA4lxt_zA-MNGfFP5O_CkpVmjgl15Em3WEfguivMhfLQ3G0BWSK0CVGqhxlPfBzePN9Wy8CaUwfGe4Df89L0EA7wk4i7p14h1d5nwDBbZyNeYcmIfvPHmbI/s1600/GIUX7456.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlwg0zOKX4UGXxFaIpBEzHZA4lxt_zA-MNGfFP5O_CkpVmjgl15Em3WEfguivMhfLQ3G0BWSK0CVGqhxlPfBzePN9Wy8CaUwfGe4Df89L0EA7wk4i7p14h1d5nwDBbZyNeYcmIfvPHmbI/s640/GIUX7456.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
I just realized that other than announcing that I was buying The Hair Emporium, I haven't updated on how everything is going! So here it is: The past week has<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlwg0zOKX4UGXxFaIpBEzHZA4lxt_zA-MNGfFP5O_CkpVmjgl15Em3WEfguivMhfLQ3G0BWSK0CVGqhxlPfBzePN9Wy8CaUwfGe4Df89L0EA7wk4i7p14h1d5nwDBbZyNeYcmIfvPHmbI/s1600/GIUX7456.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a> been one of the most exhausting of my life. More mentally than physically. We gave the salon a facelift. And I was terrified!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivAqIEL6xf4NSaaN3e8kCBfEIXDXF-GVILuaihjSHtO6T2Wv6txjEoK9iYNDoOJKn-vynqR3rhyMpy72tHalehDDtxvqpgh62UmLU8F5MJwsN5_O7hoJ73eI1MhOUYokfDa4vLXxIroSw/s1600/IMG_3684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivAqIEL6xf4NSaaN3e8kCBfEIXDXF-GVILuaihjSHtO6T2Wv6txjEoK9iYNDoOJKn-vynqR3rhyMpy72tHalehDDtxvqpgh62UmLU8F5MJwsN5_O7hoJ73eI1MhOUYokfDa4vLXxIroSw/s320/IMG_3684.JPG" width="180" /></a>We closed on the sale on December 12, and I officially became a salon owner. I waited to get through the process of getting everything switched over, the craziness of the holidays, my first round of taxes, and issuing W2s (and yes, I survived it all) before I put my own touch on the salon. And it was quite the undertaking. I mean, this is a BIG space. It was very well maintained, and in very good shape, but it is huge, and if I wanted to get all of this done in one weekend, I was going to have to bust my butt. That was a lot of wall space to paint! And to top matters off, I had already signed on to do a 5K race on the same weekend that the salon wasn't booked up, and available for the remodel, and at the last minute, one of my stylists found out she was closing on the sale of her house that weekend, and would be moving, so she would be unavailable to help. That left it up to me, and a few of my friends and family to get that salon taken apart, flipped, put back together, and ready for reopening in 58 hours. So bust our butts we did. And it was so worth it! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlwg0zOKX4UGXxFaIpBEzHZA4lxt_zA-MNGfFP5O_CkpVmjgl15Em3WEfguivMhfLQ3G0BWSK0CVGqhxlPfBzePN9Wy8CaUwfGe4Df89L0EA7wk4i7p14h1d5nwDBbZyNeYcmIfvPHmbI/s1600/GIUX7456.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF7N12oJEmVLf3mW9smRAmyMymyJxRnlopW3LZ3soOO6gsqTUkjCY9Rot9sbkAgsBUWW8qDZw0Fx6ctkvZlpFgentteNyIUoz81gcf2hDOloogvOD_mz3Np1LztpO38r77Gw5CCPOwVbg/s1600/IMG_3695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF7N12oJEmVLf3mW9smRAmyMymyJxRnlopW3LZ3soOO6gsqTUkjCY9Rot9sbkAgsBUWW8qDZw0Fx6ctkvZlpFgentteNyIUoz81gcf2hDOloogvOD_mz3Np1LztpO38r77Gw5CCPOwVbg/s320/IMG_3695.JPG" width="180" /></a>When I say I was mentally exhausted, I'm not being dramatic (believe it or not). This was a big deal for me. The salon has a very wide range with our clientele's age, tastes, styles, etc. So trying to figure out a theme that would appeal to the younger generation and try to pull more of that clientele in, without offending the senses of the current clientele was a big deal for me. So I started thinking about things that are timeless. Old Hollywood Glam came to mind. One of the most classy, timeless movie stars I could think of was Audrey Hepburn. And Tiffany Blue is one of the most popular colors throughout all generations. So there we had it: a theme. Now I just had to figure out what to do with it. That came together in pieces. As I found pieces I wanted on the wall, I had a vision for where they would go, and before I knew it, I had a vision in my mind. Breakfast at Tiffany's theme. With black, white, and Tiffany blue, pearls, and chandeliers. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF7N12oJEmVLf3mW9smRAmyMymyJxRnlopW3LZ3soOO6gsqTUkjCY9Rot9sbkAgsBUWW8qDZw0Fx6ctkvZlpFgentteNyIUoz81gcf2hDOloogvOD_mz3Np1LztpO38r77Gw5CCPOwVbg/s1600/IMG_3695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlwg0zOKX4UGXxFaIpBEzHZA4lxt_zA-MNGfFP5O_CkpVmjgl15Em3WEfguivMhfLQ3G0BWSK0CVGqhxlPfBzePN9Wy8CaUwfGe4Df89L0EA7wk4i7p14h1d5nwDBbZyNeYcmIfvPHmbI/s1600/GIUX7456.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>The biggest challenge as far as the painting goes, was by far, the black and white stripes on the bottom. I had this grand vision that I was not budging from, but this was a huge undertaking filled with measuring, chalk lines, taping, and multiple coats of paint, and trying to keep a steady hand. Thank God for my friend Kesa, she kind of took charge on this front and we got it done. It took 2 days for just the stripes, but it looked amazing when it was done. And surprisingly, unless you look really close in one area, they are all fairly straight! And I'm not telling where they are slightly off ;).<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipwkVRQwRPoWRciVxkZ8w2IKXbwefd2ulSL1zXKq4YOk61gm5imEDchLt_pX9mqpvzy9F-bjRsiqNhyphenhyphenqK_2U1Y6GTwGwB8sGzT6rljmmJx03ixGLu2CL1HKZ1eULj2SnphtqDuN3CwxY8/s1600/IMG_3709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipwkVRQwRPoWRciVxkZ8w2IKXbwefd2ulSL1zXKq4YOk61gm5imEDchLt_pX9mqpvzy9F-bjRsiqNhyphenhyphenqK_2U1Y6GTwGwB8sGzT6rljmmJx03ixGLu2CL1HKZ1eULj2SnphtqDuN3CwxY8/s320/IMG_3709.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div>
I absolutely love the chandelier decal we put</div>
<div>
on the wall by the nail station. So I ordered</div>
<div>
another for the front desk :)</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlwg0zOKX4UGXxFaIpBEzHZA4lxt_zA-MNGfFP5O_CkpVmjgl15Em3WEfguivMhfLQ3G0BWSK0CVGqhxlPfBzePN9Wy8CaUwfGe4Df89L0EA7wk4i7p14h1d5nwDBbZyNeYcmIfvPHmbI/s1600/GIUX7456.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>When it all came together, it looked even better than I could have imagined. I had a vision in my head, but seeing it on its canvas made it come to life, and made it real. The whole weekend, it kept hitting me in waves, I am finally chasing my dream, and with each brush stroke, I was watching it come to life. I could not have done this without my family and friends. Some of them devoted their entire weekend to helping me at that shop, and all they got out of it was a few slices of pizza. My mom, with her bad leg, was up and down off of ladders. My sister, I mean, she just gets stuff done, whatever I needed, she was on it. And my friends, that showed up without asking a single question, in their paint clothes. This is what friendship and love is all about. Doing something for someone, not expecting a single thing in return. All of them were so happy to be there, and so happy to help, and excited for me. It is overwhelming, and humbling when I look and see the love they all showed me. I hope each and every person that yielded a paint brush, or used a putty knife, or fired a nail gun this weekend knows how deeply I appreciate it. I could not have done it, let alone on time, without each and every one of them.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90jLYqr7WQqDoGAqTkOXmOADbzZZbuEvduDsiOHeTHCXl5bvXHEwNMh9vGX8PmhQQe5naZ7z-K2VnyKozMiElZ6dgVjB4Chbkxb-6IsWqo02S6MDNFgtnGDUaMTsGdiB79RmuuMg842M/s1600/IMG_3710.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS8Xq21dxJkjApyOAsvreiMUMwZ3Cb65UW-nKhafW7TGoTXhg1mmR412_XVQ_m0jLeCI81ULyOeNhp9DZgGdVTt5VeC5jDIFZaftFsbEAWK6uUHYEyNXyb-MHvhPRCGciWQzMweBWI5Hc/s1600/IMG_3713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90jLYqr7WQqDoGAqTkOXmOADbzZZbuEvduDsiOHeTHCXl5bvXHEwNMh9vGX8PmhQQe5naZ7z-K2VnyKozMiElZ6dgVjB4Chbkxb-6IsWqo02S6MDNFgtnGDUaMTsGdiB79RmuuMg842M/s320/IMG_3710.JPG" width="240" /><br />
But mostly, I need to thank Vicki, the former owner. None of this would have been possible for me without her. She paved the way for me. She got this salon established, with an amazing reputation, and when she was time to hand it over, she chose me. She could have very easily said no to this sale. She could have said it didn't feel right, and chose someone else for the buyer, but she said yes to me. And for this, I owe her so much gratitude. She made it possible for me to chase my dream. She made it possible for me to see a vision come to life that I have had since I was 19 years old. She will never know how much that means to me.<br />
<br />
And by the way, as far as my 5K goes, I shaved a minute and 30 seconds off of my personal record. <br />
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-71751607066416376442016-11-28T16:35:00.002-06:002016-11-28T21:29:10.157-06:00Why I chose to leave my corporate salon job<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisrZq3VUH-7yLUZjKu8q7DwPFunmoMSbPeeXgrK7PfXVCSXiIx_Wl_gaTrNTHSGCfbcB_NnmWb8yc1ELG9cUFfXyw4kwoBDLbXqcnAcGctCHBpjV5fsY4OxUzxSyupjFwkSAI3P_hYZA8/s1600/prayer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisrZq3VUH-7yLUZjKu8q7DwPFunmoMSbPeeXgrK7PfXVCSXiIx_Wl_gaTrNTHSGCfbcB_NnmWb8yc1ELG9cUFfXyw4kwoBDLbXqcnAcGctCHBpjV5fsY4OxUzxSyupjFwkSAI3P_hYZA8/s1600/prayer.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisrZq3VUH-7yLUZjKu8q7DwPFunmoMSbPeeXgrK7PfXVCSXiIx_Wl_gaTrNTHSGCfbcB_NnmWb8yc1ELG9cUFfXyw4kwoBDLbXqcnAcGctCHBpjV5fsY4OxUzxSyupjFwkSAI3P_hYZA8/s1600/prayer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisrZq3VUH-7yLUZjKu8q7DwPFunmoMSbPeeXgrK7PfXVCSXiIx_Wl_gaTrNTHSGCfbcB_NnmWb8yc1ELG9cUFfXyw4kwoBDLbXqcnAcGctCHBpjV5fsY4OxUzxSyupjFwkSAI3P_hYZA8/s1600/prayer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>"If your dreams don't scare you, they aren't big enough." This is a quote I have sworn by since the first time I heard it a few years ago. And I finally took the leap to stop letting fear hold me back. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrySJXkOFxrmSd_juXrDQzaAEok8Oo4AVno1IvNqik5vy7P-DMWtcpepMCP6p89nDscUh3pbtYCGOaI-aBsER6rCrc-5ByiCSyim-tjtDfxRbwPM_bjBDGEo16iQ5McTlRKfeXrCMTPZI/s1600/hairspray.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
In October, I left my corporate salon job that I had had for 13+ years. And I had never been more terrified or excited for anything in my life. There was so much doubt nagging in the back of my mind. But as I sat down and weighed the pros and cons, I decided to take the leap of faith, and believe in myself. I had worked hard over the last 14 years to build my skills, and my clientele to eventually be able to fulfill this dream, so if not now, when?<br />
<br />
I worked for the largest salon corporation in the country (I don't think I can say the name of the corporation since I no longer work there, but it shares a name with a famous talk show host). This job had been a very good job for me. It was my first stylist job out of beauty school. At first, I just thought of it as a starting out place, but then, the longer I stayed, the harder it was to leave. There was always heavy traffic, with a high amount of walk ins, essential for building a clientele. They provided all of the advertising, and paid for many of my supplies and tools. It had funded vacations, new cars, I had bought my first home with it, and it had fed and clothed my children, and myself. I started out as a stylist, and worked my way up to management. When I was single, relying on only one income, I still never had to worry where our next meal was going to come from, or how I was going to pay for Christmas. My children and I always had what we needed, and what we wanted, because of the opportunities provided to me by this job. I never had to work a 2nd or 3rd job like most new stylists, or even seasoned ones have to do. I was able to make it work off of this one job, and have extras left over. But this didn't come without sacrifice either. I worked in a high traffic mall, therefore, retail hours were required. There were many nights I worked until 9 PM or later. Years of weekends were worked, where I missed out on weddings, graduations, and other family functions. Extended hours were required during the holidays, as we were in a high traffic retail mall. And being manager, they were even more strict with my hours than if I had been a just a stylist. <br />
<br />
But the stress was overwhelming. The rules were constantly changing. They were always switching things up to stay on top of the game. There was always a new initiative for the stylists and management. When I was younger, and fresh in the industry, this was ok. But after 14 years of being in the industry, I had proven myself. I wanted more freedom. I was tired of the rules always changing. I was tired of the corporate chain of command. I was tired of someone always questioning whether my best was good enough. I was tired of feeling like just a number. I was tired of commuting an hour a day. I was tired. Then one day, after an especially trying time period at work, my friend told me a salon in town was for sale.<br />
<br />
I made the choice to go look at it. Looking wouldn't hurt anything. The owner was wanting to retire, but still work. It was a turn key operation. The stylists were staying. And the location was perfect. If I was ever going to leave where I was at, this was the best possible scenario in which to do it. I decided as long as the doors kept opening, I was going to keep walking through them. My feet might have been shaking the whole way, but I kept pushing forward. As soon as I made the offer, and we signed the contract, I left my job, and started working at what would be my new salon once the closing date arrived. I was terrified.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrySJXkOFxrmSd_juXrDQzaAEok8Oo4AVno1IvNqik5vy7P-DMWtcpepMCP6p89nDscUh3pbtYCGOaI-aBsER6rCrc-5ByiCSyim-tjtDfxRbwPM_bjBDGEo16iQ5McTlRKfeXrCMTPZI/s1600/hairspray.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrySJXkOFxrmSd_juXrDQzaAEok8Oo4AVno1IvNqik5vy7P-DMWtcpepMCP6p89nDscUh3pbtYCGOaI-aBsER6rCrc-5ByiCSyim-tjtDfxRbwPM_bjBDGEo16iQ5McTlRKfeXrCMTPZI/s1600/hairspray.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrySJXkOFxrmSd_juXrDQzaAEok8Oo4AVno1IvNqik5vy7P-DMWtcpepMCP6p89nDscUh3pbtYCGOaI-aBsER6rCrc-5ByiCSyim-tjtDfxRbwPM_bjBDGEo16iQ5McTlRKfeXrCMTPZI/s1600/hairspray.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>But now I am asking myself why I didn't do this years ago. It is such a laid back environment, and I found an amazing mentor in the current owner. She has made this salon a success for many years, so I will be picking her brain as often as she will let me! So many of my loyal clients have followed. Some that, quite honestly, surprised me. Several of them have told me it is easier for them to drive 60 miles roundtrip every 6 weeks than it is for me to do it every day. And I have gained new customers, people that would have come to me before, but couldn't find the time to squeeze that drive into their already busy schedule. I am off by 6 at night. No more nights of missing tucking my kids into bed. I am off by 4 on Saturdays, and am off on holidays. My stress level is down, and my whole life is better for it. And I'm matching the money I was making at my previous job. I miss the group at my old salon. We were like a family, but I'm doing my best to stay in touch, as are they. <br />
<br />
I am not in any way knocking the corporate salons. I think they are a great place for people to start their careers, and for some, can make a great lifetime career. I made one of these salons a home away from home for nearly 14 years, and it afforded me some really great opportunities, and introduced me to some of the best people I know. But for me, it was time to move on. So as I set out to pursue my crazy, scary dreams, and we approach closing day, I am less terrified, and more excited. I made the decision to no longer let my fear stand in the way of my dreams. And I encourage each and every one of you to do the same. Whether it's with your career, your personal life, or marking something off of your bucket list, go out and do something that scares you today. It just might pay out abundantly.Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-3261127150192019302016-10-06T20:25:00.001-05:002016-10-06T20:25:35.013-05:00Johnny's Journey - the blog from the dog<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil55eOWJArzWlKcaqHDKzongxCSQaN6Su7XslczlIQiWnBvByBRLPaPlWrpRk9YfLygKjME5-wKRJCMAR8mgu9oojANWPrrzQQJRUcRDDZ0PoZWhDnz-AesJwtmbsovvRcqYZlTSBHXx8/s1600/IMG_3167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil55eOWJArzWlKcaqHDKzongxCSQaN6Su7XslczlIQiWnBvByBRLPaPlWrpRk9YfLygKjME5-wKRJCMAR8mgu9oojANWPrrzQQJRUcRDDZ0PoZWhDnz-AesJwtmbsovvRcqYZlTSBHXx8/s320/IMG_3167.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm the king of the castle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Here is an update from Johnny himself (if he had opposable thumbs and could type, or talk):<br />
<br />
<br />
I've been at my new home in Kansas for almost two months now. It only took me a couple of days to adapt, then I realized I run this new house of mine, and the humans that live here. My human mom loves me very much, and she spoils me very much. I pretended to be very shy at first, this is how I roped her in, and once I realized I owned her, I let my personality shine, the good and the bad. I have become much more vocal, and like to show off my barking ability. I'm very good at it. It's one of my many talents. The ability to bite with no warning is also something I am very good at, although I do this less now that they know I am in charge. I am very sweet after a good bite though. Like a sour patch kid. I am also very good at chewing things up, like entire rolls of toilet paper. I like to unravel it. It provides me much entertainment.<br />
<br />
It took me some time to warm up to my human sister that has Ichthyosis like I do, but now that I have, I think she is my 2nd favorite human, next to my new mom. She really loves me, and she talks to me in a funny voice. I like that. So I bark, and wag my tail to show her I like it. Then I lick her. A lot. <br />
<br />
I'm very picky about what I like and what I don't like. My family is starting to figure all of these things out. I like to let them in on a few things daily. <br />
<br />
Here is a list of some of my likes and dislikes:<br />
<br />
Likes:<br />
*My humans- especially my mom<br />
*My human sister's lotions- I like to lick her lotions after she gets out of the bath. Her skin is like mine :)<br />
*Treats<br />
*My other animal roommates- especially my other dog, I like to bark at her to get her to play with me<br />
*My grandma- I don't even bark at her, and I really like to bark<br />
*Tug of War<br />
*Long walks on my leash- I'm thinking of putting this on my dating profile<br />
*My t-shirts- I am very cute in these! I was already very cute, but now I have accessories.<br />
<br />
<br />
Dislikes:<br />
*Shoes- I'm fine with sandals, I just really don't like tennis shoes, and I will try to bite them if you walk by me with them on your feet. I bark until they go away.<br />
*The hairdryer- I bark the whole time my mom is using this. I haven't decided if it's because I don't like the noise, or I just don't like her doing anything other than playing with me. So I just bark until it stops.<br />
*My human brother- he needs to realize that I am in charge... he will get there. So I bark at him<br />
*My baths and lotions- do we really have to do these every day? I have stopped biting mom during them though. I decided after eight times of getting her good, if she hadn't stopped yet, she wasn't going to.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_f2c6aIGnRCp7NBq2Obo42oXyJqcqtU7xPjDa_HlOmkeQIxiaUCmCqO68s8mcGZtUBOO547X_Nuc9aOoFZs0ckVbr9PLPhT_uesTVxGKrK3xtd38TGDkIbtl5vBs-9G1hR09ueFjBtJw/s1600/IMG_3172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_f2c6aIGnRCp7NBq2Obo42oXyJqcqtU7xPjDa_HlOmkeQIxiaUCmCqO68s8mcGZtUBOO547X_Nuc9aOoFZs0ckVbr9PLPhT_uesTVxGKrK3xtd38TGDkIbtl5vBs-9G1hR09ueFjBtJw/s320/IMG_3172.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is a picture of my dog sister and I,<br />
she's ok, I guess.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
*Kansas thunderstorms- they are very loud, and keep me up at night. They rattle the windows, this makes me bark.<br />
*Tornado sirens- my mom gets nervous when these go off, so I bark.<br />
*When people walk down the sidewalk in front of my house- this is my house, so I bark.<br />
*My mom's debit card- I didn't like it, so I pulled it out of her purse, and chewed it up. When I was done, I barked, to show her what I did. She yelled, I barked again.<br />
<br />
I will continue to add more to my lists as I expirience new things. They have warned me about cold, wet stuff they call snow, that we did not have in California. They say that it will be coming soon. Also, the falling leaves, mom says I will have fun with this. But right now I must go. I see that my mom's lap is empty, and I must get there before the other dog or small humans, or they will claim my spot on my throne.<br />
<br />
Goodbye for now, <br />
John Feathertail.<br />
<br />
<em>(a footnote from Cora)</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>After having Johnny in our family for two months now, he has fit right in, and become a huge part of our lives. I can not imagine life without him. I want to personally thank Rick, at </em><a href="http://www.nobodysperfektdogs.org/" target="_blank"><em>Nobody's Perfekt Dogs</em></a><em> for trusting our family with one of his dogs. He's not "just a dog" to us. Rick takes in a lot of special needs dogs, like Johnny. If you feel compelled to make a donation to help another dog like Johnny, please click above, where you can donate on their website. </em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>We will continue to update you on Johnny and Ashlynne's journey through life with ichthyosis. Thanks for reading!</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>Also, imagine the entire above dialog from Johnny in a slightly spanish accent, it's the chihuahua in him :)</em>Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-32173762398586274672016-08-28T20:57:00.006-05:002016-08-28T20:58:27.439-05:00Why I'm glad my son finished lastWe are a very busy family, and it seems we are always adding things to our plate. I'm always all for the kids trying new activities, as exhausting as it may be. For some time now, my son has been racing 4 wheelers with his friends, and has gone to the sand dunes on 4 wheeler trips, but today, he raced in his first official race. He finished last. And I'm glad.<br />
<br />
Why am I glad? Because look at that phrase "he finished last", and focus on that second word... "finished". He finished. <br />
<br />
Let me backtrack. He and my husband got up and left before the rest of us. I was running late, because I was searching for the bag chairs that our garage seems to have eaten. I was rushing to get there by 10:30, the start time. He was the 3rd race, so I had some leeway if I was a little late (which I chronically tend to be). By 10:30 I got the phone call from my husband that I missed his first heat. My heart instantly sank, I so badly wanted to be there on time to cheer him on. Then, he proceeds to tell me that Gavin popped a wheelie, rode it out for about 5 feet, then flipped over backwards, he was ok, but complaining about his back. The medics checked him out and told him that he would be a little sore, but would be ok. I was then slightly relieved that I missed it, knowing my mom-stincts would kick in and I probably would have panicked had I seen it. <br />
<br />
When I got there, he was laying next to the truck with ice on his back, saying he wasn't going back out on the track. There might have been a certain amount of drama involved in this, but it is hell knowing that your child is in pain, and you can't fix it. The protective side of me wanted to say ok, and pack his stuff up. But then I got myself in check. I swallowed that fear of him getting hurt, and told him he was getting back on that quad, because we aren't quitters. He was SO MAD. He said fine, he would run in his next heat, but that this weekend was going to be his first and last race. From now on, he just wants to ride for fun, and this wasn't fun. His attitude continued to decline as he realized I wasn't backing down, and he was going to compete in his 2nd race. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd6l_gClARkrY9BdBfV36FL4KmXyFMyUm5mhhnsM4TA63_hnPIU7Bn89BvfwmiF94KM4OQjSqBU9BGGHBG9IW8o1yvjYDVpwqquHiq6Dgl8OIK5uTLtQNakPUuLDlM6zUeVPq7Zf7_fI8/s1600/IMG_3013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd6l_gClARkrY9BdBfV36FL4KmXyFMyUm5mhhnsM4TA63_hnPIU7Bn89BvfwmiF94KM4OQjSqBU9BGGHBG9IW8o1yvjYDVpwqquHiq6Dgl8OIK5uTLtQNakPUuLDlM6zUeVPq7Zf7_fI8/s320/IMG_3013.JPG" width="240" /></a>In all of the time that he has ridden 4 wheelers, he had never had a wreck. We knew at some point in time it would come, and with the more confidence he gained in riding, and the faster he went, the worse the wreck would be. I consider myself and him lucky that he hadn't gotten up to speed. I'm glad he got that first wreck under his belt, and I'm also glad I wasn't there to witness it! But I know how easily he scares, and I knew this wreck was going to scare him from keeping on with something he loved. If I let it. And I wasn't going to let him quit. Not until he at least knew what it felt like to cross that finish line. If he still felt like it wasn't for him, we didn't have to do it again, but he was going to cross that line.<br />
<br />
When the time to suit up came, he was so uncooperative, that my husband practically had to get him dressed in his chest protector, boots, and helmet, all the while, reminding me he wouldn't be doing this again. He got on the quad, and rode to the gates, with words of encouragement from both of us. Just finish the race, buddy. I reminded him he didn't have to come in first, just get to that checkered flag. As he was lining up, I could see the nerves and fear in his eyes, and tried not to let him see it in mine. The gates went down, everyone took off, and there he sat. He killed the engine. He got it started, went a few feet, killed it again. I knew what he was doing, he was scared to give it too much gas and flip it over again. Third time was a charm, and he took off. Very slowly. But he took off. He rode around the first jump, rode over the next one very slowly, and started to pick up speed a little speed the further he rode. By the fourth, and final lap, he was starting to actually jump some of the jumps and finally got all 4 wheels off the ground. And he came in dead last. By a long shot. <br />
<br />
And I have never been more proud of him.<br />
<br />
You see, he was terrified to get back out on that track. But he did. And he did it with a huge smile on his face. He was as proud of himself as I was of him. He pushed through, and did something that scared him, and he didn't walk away from it because it felt uncomfortable. And once he crossed that finish line, he proved to himself that he could do something that he thought he couldn't. I chose not to look at it like he "lost the race". He may not have come in first, he came in last, but he didn't lose, it was a win for him to get through it. Not giving up paid off for him. Huge life lesson learned. And a pretty proud mom moment for me. It was his first time out. And because it was his first time out, I knew that if he didn't get out there again, he never would. And he did it. HE DID IT! Coming in last was nothing to be ashamed of. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtQNChtBpXjjTM2kSieD0Os_FedCt2zpGOCLMv7EXIh5aaEYd8e5Gzw1JV5Sig2XnG2Q2uqAL-DdLT6nrXjXo9tuBdLu5Boc5RTSh9Fj9Gw1vm-dIDUtqRNe_ahfJoyhJVZWiCT9OhmA/s1600/IMG_3014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtQNChtBpXjjTM2kSieD0Os_FedCt2zpGOCLMv7EXIh5aaEYd8e5Gzw1JV5Sig2XnG2Q2uqAL-DdLT6nrXjXo9tuBdLu5Boc5RTSh9Fj9Gw1vm-dIDUtqRNe_ahfJoyhJVZWiCT9OhmA/s320/IMG_3014.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at that smile, and all of that glorious boy dirt!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There was no trophy, and there was no participation metal or ribbon, but there was this: Other riders in his heat came up and congratulated him on finishing his first race, and assured him that he did great for his first time out and for his age (he was racing against 14-16 year olds), and made sure that he was ok after his spill in the first heat. Over and over again, he kept hearing, "But you got back out there and finished, and that's what matters", and "Good job, man!" I think that made him feel much better, and less embarrassed about how he started out, and definitely eased the nerves about future races when he saw how nice and welcoming this racing community is. That sense of pride, and accomplishment is better than any medal he could have gotten just for showing up. Oh, and miraculously, his back felt so much better after his 2nd race, and he thinks he might give it another shot at the next race in two weeks.<br />
Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-3598324702832424342016-08-12T19:56:00.000-05:002016-08-12T19:56:58.160-05:00Heeeeeere's Johnny!!!I belong to several Ichthyosis support type groups on Facebook. So sometimes, I scroll past some of the random posts that pop up from them. But one day I could help but take a pause over one of the posts I saw with the cutest little puppy on it. The owner of a rescue group in California had reached out to an ichthyosis contact of his in hope of getting help finding a forever home for a little guy they had taken into their group named Johnny, with a form of canine ichthyosis. I read through it, smiling at the pictures thinking they would have no problem finding a forever home for this cute little guy. I just didn't think it was going to be with us.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir36RY6Bw4EfCPxNEfpTnCBTUSS36J38rqiukuDqBXEHdiv8K2iqQS1gwi1Nvr__1ypT1bTobMnpsjEk-NS3739Gfqtfp_ddsigCmpyJNjpQXq0Fur5MnGyMEgIF_cDV_fcUeIm-_6gxM/s1600/Johnny_07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir36RY6Bw4EfCPxNEfpTnCBTUSS36J38rqiukuDqBXEHdiv8K2iqQS1gwi1Nvr__1ypT1bTobMnpsjEk-NS3739Gfqtfp_ddsigCmpyJNjpQXq0Fur5MnGyMEgIF_cDV_fcUeIm-_6gxM/s320/Johnny_07.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The picture that stole my heart</td></tr>
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About a week later, I revisited the post, just curious to see if they had found a loving home for him. They hadn't. And even worse, Ashlynne had seen the post. This was bad news for me. See, it combined two of my biggest loves: my ichtyosis community, and my love for animals. It broke my heard that no one wanted this little guy simply because he had the same genetic disorder that my Ashlynne has. So I inquired, figuring there was no harm in just checking into it, and I put it out there to Russ, who wasn't completely opposed, but he had the same question I did. How were we going to get this dog all the way from California to Kansas? I had just left California from the Ichthyosis conference, and he couldn't take any time off of work right now. Unbeknownst to us, Ashlynne had taken it upon herself to inquire as well. She had gotten the phone number off of their website, and called them herself. She was disappointed when the man told her that just that morning, Johnny might have been spoken for. But her disappointment turned to joy when the man on the other end of the phone told her that the man that had called asking about Johnny was named Russ. She came running downstairs yelling that "Pops" had called the rescue group and asked about Johnny. "He's going to let me get him!"<br />
<br />
We explained to her the logistics of it all, about getting him here, and also the fact that the rescue group preferred a couple of overnight visits with the adoptive family to see if it was a good fit. All of this was going to be very hard considering we were half way across the country. She begged and pleaded, she promised she would help take care of him (I know, I know, all kids promise to help take care of the puppy they want), and he was JUST like her (her words, not mine). And as we were discussing it, I hear from the other room, from what I thought was a sleeping Breckyn, "heeeeeeere's Johnny!". Mic drop. How does this kid even know that line?<br />
<br />
So we contacted <a href="http://www.nobodysperfektdogs.org/" target="_blank">Nobody's Perfekt Dogs</a> and pleaded our case. We explained the situation with Ashlynne, and explained my immense love for animals, and the man decided it was worth giving us a shot. And at the end of August, he would be bringing his son this way on his way back to college, and he could meet us just three hours from our home. It was all falling into place. How could Russ say no now? Game over.<br />
<br />
So on August 19, we will be welcoming Johnny, a cocker spaniel/Chihuahua mix, into our home. I'm so excited for our next venture, and will be sharing plenty of Johnny stories with you all along the way. I just hope Zailey can adjust to not being the only dog in the house again! Russ and I have always said that if we ever heard of a baby that was up for adoption with ichthyosis, we would try to adopt the child. We just never dreamed it would be a fur baby. Johnny's skin regime will be much different that Ashlynne's, considering applying lotion all over his body, and soaking him in the tub for an hour and a half a day isn't really an option. So we will apply ointment to his eyes, and a vitamin A supplement in his food, along with weekly medicated baths. I will also apply Vaseline to his paws, which gave me an excuse to buy him some cute little booties. I had decided in March, after our Hurley passed away, that once Zailey passed, I would never own another dog. They just break your heart, they don't outlive you. But it looks like God had other plans for our family! I think Johnny will be the "perfekt" fit for us!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEXKky2sHkhAgLwlCGMMRWJuJwfelnaAFmciYkAkHVEmLBQWvTIYqsUlzGPH8x8VdBqyS3n5shvNjM7ck3b_TLrCgGnHkpixIMzahX6sCJ9QQ4iB1ebei_Mk6834LTuWmdfIsCWKhylvQ/s1600/Johnny_06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEXKky2sHkhAgLwlCGMMRWJuJwfelnaAFmciYkAkHVEmLBQWvTIYqsUlzGPH8x8VdBqyS3n5shvNjM7ck3b_TLrCgGnHkpixIMzahX6sCJ9QQ4iB1ebei_Mk6834LTuWmdfIsCWKhylvQ/s320/Johnny_06.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at this face!! How can you resist?!<br />
I think this is going to be one spoiled pooch!</td></tr>
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Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-24290810458722303582016-08-01T21:26:00.003-05:002016-08-01T21:30:32.980-05:00To my sweet baby girl, as you start kindergartenTo my sweet, sweet baby as you get ready to start kindergarten,<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZoph9U7HzngPtKsOhOnC7tN4dT5s1LqG2erB8X136yW01b7AH_wNLqZEJq-vCzT_BEBrpTNHXuMvqVyZmnzoiuVGGV4keEajQeK9QoFu0eFcGitAQfoiO0pjXpViqojTEXmJhlj9Ba8/s1600/IMG_2700.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZoph9U7HzngPtKsOhOnC7tN4dT5s1LqG2erB8X136yW01b7AH_wNLqZEJq-vCzT_BEBrpTNHXuMvqVyZmnzoiuVGGV4keEajQeK9QoFu0eFcGitAQfoiO0pjXpViqojTEXmJhlj9Ba8/s320/IMG_2700.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breckyn's pre-school graduation</td></tr>
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It can't be time. How can this be possible. You are the baby. Time wasn't supposed to go this fast with you. I know it sounds so cliché, but it seems like just yesterday we brought you into this world. Where has the last 5 years gone? With your older siblings, I was excited for this milestone for them, and for you, I am just sad. Because I look back and once they started kindergarten, time just flew by. Everyone warned me, but you can never really fathom how fast it goes until you are in the throes of motherhood. Now, your sister is starting her last year of middle school, and your brother, his last year of elementary school. And before long, that will be you. I promised myself with you, I wasn't going to make the same mistakes I made with them. I was going to stop and enjoy the little things. I wasn't going to be too busy to play board games. I wasn't going to take the little moments that are fleeting, for granted. I was going to soak up these years before you start conquering the world. I was going to stop and smell the roses, per se. I did. And it still flew by too fast. <br />
<br />
I know you are busy, but will you please take just a second to crawl onto my lap and cuddle? Will you please just humor me? I know you have things to do, and I know you want to go outside and play with your friends, but I just need a moment. I want to kiss your baby soft cheeks. I want to hold you until you fall asleep. I want to listen to the soothing sound of you breathing. I want to give you butterfly kisses, and hear that innocent, unapologetic laugh. Because before long, the nights on the couch watching Nick Jr. will be replaced by sleepovers with friends, boys, school dances, and you hanging out in your room, rather than with Mommy. <br />
<br />
Most would say you are my karma, my mini-me, my payback. Papa would say you are exactly like me at your age. Maybe that's why I understand you so well, why I seem to "get it". I want you to understand that all of those days, where I seemed frustrated, and where I was lucky to even get in the shower, I treasured those days too. I am so grateful for every moment I get with you. Don't get me wrong, your strong will has pushed me to the brink of insanity, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. I know that some day, the house will seem to empty when I am not yelling at you to pick up your shoes, or tear down the blanket fort you have left up in the dining room for 2 days. And the thought of those days haunts me. For I know that it is on the horizon. <br />
<br />
You are my fashionista, my diva. I know we will fight about what you are wearing, and letting me do your hair. I know you will want to do it yourself. I know we will fight about you getting up in the morning, and you will beg me for your signature "5 more minutes". And I know this will continue through your teenage years. I know this is exciting for you, and I want this for you. This is natural. But please be patient with me if I am a little sad. If you are prepared, I am doing my job. This is what I was put on this earth to do, to be a mom to you and your brothers and sister. To prepare you for this big, crazy, sometimes very scary world. I will try to put on a smile when you are modeling your new school clothes, and your new book bag, and at times, it will be a genuine smile. But this is so bittersweet. Before long you won't need me, but it is my hope that one day you will want me. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-n6jImSMR374JsDaBcXr1r2iJVMsbEfOQmbnxiwDfBKeK8Fc-yf8oC2X6VEb7uKThA3uemLWG2L6ujeEZ9ZJq_Jgqdc69d_s3tNUoYXdQAog0QZNbAWRvfKBm5CP2YtSSSNj449ZMAM/s1600/IMG_2913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-n6jImSMR374JsDaBcXr1r2iJVMsbEfOQmbnxiwDfBKeK8Fc-yf8oC2X6VEb7uKThA3uemLWG2L6ujeEZ9ZJq_Jgqdc69d_s3tNUoYXdQAog0QZNbAWRvfKBm5CP2YtSSSNj449ZMAM/s320/IMG_2913.JPG" width="240" /></a>Here are my hopes for you: I hope no one ever clips your wings. Fly baby girl. You are my free spirit, my wild child. But remember, not all who wander are lost. Let that free spirit of yours guide you through great adventures in this life. I hope you explore every inch of this world possible! I hope you accomplish all you set out to do in this life. I hope use your strong will for good. You always seem to have a twinkle in your eye, I hope you never lose that. I hope you always stand up for what is right or wrong. I hope you are kind. I hope I have set a good example of that. I hope you are happy. I hope you find your passion, and I hope you chase it, along with your dreams. I hope that one day, you will experience the love I have for you, when you look into the eyes of your own baby, and see a reflection of the child you once were. But most of all, I hope you know that I have poured every ounce of love I have, every fiber of my being, into being your mommy. And I hope that you understand, that no matter how many years pass, you will always be my baby. <br />
<br />
Love Always,<br />
Your MommyCora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-51326585502074721722016-07-03T10:22:00.001-05:002016-07-03T11:20:28.444-05:00FIRST National Family Conference 2016, and Mom rides the trolley...I realize I am SUPER late on posting more updates about the <a href="http://corasboxofchocolates.blogspot.com/2016/06/first-national-family-conference-2016.html" target="_blank">FIRST Conference</a> in San Diego last week, but any spare moment I have had had this week has been dedicated to trying to catch up on sleep. I promised updates of shenanigans, and let me assure you, shenanigans were had, mostly involving my mother.<br />
<br />
On Fridays at the conference we always have a free evening, where we are on our own to sightsee, eat dinner, shop, whatever we want to do. So Jordan and I decided we wanted some real, authentic Mexican food, and the best place to get that in San Diego is Old Town. So we set off on the trolley, where Old Town should have only been about a 10 minute ride from our hotel. About half way there, mom realizes she left her cane sitting at the trolley station, and has to go back to get it or she wouldn't be able to get around without it. So she and Gavin waited for the next trolley going back to the hotel stop, while Jordan, Sadie, Ashlynne and I took off for Old Town in search of promised good food. We settled on a place that looked very authentic, so it had to be good. I wasn't very hungry, so I just ordered some queso, I love the white queso that you can get at "real" Mexican food restaurants. When the food finally came, my queso was sat in front of me, and I asked for some chips to go with it. The waitress looked at me like I grew a second head, and brought some back. I went to dip my chip, and it broke. My queso was a semi melted block of cheese. I lost what appetite I had, so Ashlynne proceeded to embarrass me by molding the cheese like it was a glob of play dough. We met up with my mom and Gavin after they arrived and ate, and my mom said her cane was sitting in the exact spot she left it, just standing up. She was laughing so hard she was crying... Oh the little things.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ZSkpyOHHzZaXR2J6HZAJmVDFdkoyUt8W0enxQhSMgKeL7BU-h1yvRYAbXq2v1S_xo5YAu-2dc9htd_LmvyfdHG5gqPVk6SC8trZhdshRzkN4NJHPhcr9z3uVNOE9_oRbBwEG408GPy0/s1600/IMG_2823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ZSkpyOHHzZaXR2J6HZAJmVDFdkoyUt8W0enxQhSMgKeL7BU-h1yvRYAbXq2v1S_xo5YAu-2dc9htd_LmvyfdHG5gqPVk6SC8trZhdshRzkN4NJHPhcr9z3uVNOE9_oRbBwEG408GPy0/s320/IMG_2823.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's the culprit. The walk of shame <br />
after her fun night on the trolley</td></tr>
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Leaving Old Town involved another incident with the trolley. As I boarded the train, and turned around to help Jordan lift the stroller up, the doors shut, leaving Jordan and Sadie, my mom, and Tracie, another one of our FIRST friends. So we take off for the hotel, and decide to just wait for them at the trolley stop. About 15 minutes later, I get a text from my mom, "Unbelievable, they left Jordan and Sadie again!". At the same time, the trolley arrives with Jordan, Sadie, and Tracie all getting off. So I decide I better call my mother, when I find out she is on the first car of the train that has just left our stop, not realizing they all got on, and got off of the second car. I explain Jordan and Sadie weren't left, they're standing right by me, and where is she? Well, she didn't get off because she was so upset that she thought they got left again, that she didn't even realize the train had arrived to Rio Vista Station. She was just toodling along on the San Diego trolley, with no clue where she was. I explained to her she would need to get off at the next stop, and ride the next train back, because she only had 20 minutes to make it back before the train stopped running, and she would be stuck wherever she ended up. Eventually she made it back, but she spent more of her "free evening" on the trolley, rather than taking in San Diego.<br />
<br />
Sleep evades me at the conferences because I am normally up late talking with everyone, and having our little pow wow's in the lobby. This year however, sleep evaded me because of the snoring taking place in the bed next to me. I have spent nights in hotel rooms with my dad before that I thought were miserable, but let me assure you, Mom puts him to shame. It sounded like someone was starting up a chain saw. I'm pretty sure it was incorporated into a nightmare I was having involving Leatherface. I remember yelling in the middle of the night for her to turn over multiple times, and at one point I remember tossing a pillow in her direction. This led to her going to sleep in the other room. I felt bad about that, honestly, so the next night I decided to sleep with my Beats on, and call it good. No wonder my dad is always tired! (Love you, Mom!)<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAm3xXsk-Wta8tYHgIaNhBnvAmQbZNkqHFbG6IWsQeDjNT-Ds5SWjkj6XqOu_i7IRpvDvEULCAP-UcWbBt2ok8T-ITtIniG2ZiQnukHScgWae7t4hAeGioN8HC12YZhycj2ZkWPuIJgE/s1600/IMG_2838.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAm3xXsk-Wta8tYHgIaNhBnvAmQbZNkqHFbG6IWsQeDjNT-Ds5SWjkj6XqOu_i7IRpvDvEULCAP-UcWbBt2ok8T-ITtIniG2ZiQnukHScgWae7t4hAeGioN8HC12YZhycj2ZkWPuIJgE/s320/IMG_2838.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before we lost Grandma at the beach.<br />
Gorgeous :)</td></tr>
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And last but not least, I lost her at the beach. Ashlynne wanted to play games on the boardwalk, and <br />
Gavin wanted to go to the water, so after Mom assured me should would keep her phone on her and answer it, we decided to divide and conquer, she stayed with Ash, and I went with Gavin. After taking pictures, my phone battery was getting low, and I decided I better meet back up with mom so that we could call the Uber driver. I called. She didn't answer. I called again, she didn't answer. Repeat this several times. Finally, after walking the boardwalk twice, we decided to check behind some of the buildings. There she sat. Just chillin on a bench, phone in her purse, oblivious to the fact that it had been ringing off the hook. So after the troops were rounded up, I sent for the Uber driver, where immediately after, my phone dies, and we miss our ride. I'm gonna make this long story short, and cut out how mad I was, and just sum it up by saying I downloaded Uber onto Ashlynne's phone and got another ride. She, of course, rubs it in my face by saying with a smug smile, "Aren't you glad you finally got me that smart phone?". Good point, Ashlynne.<br />
<br />
But the actual conference was amazing, as always. I don't think these things can be bad. Once every two years, these kids, and adults, get to see other people that not only look like them, but that also know exactly what they go through, both physically, and socially. That's a lot for me to wrap my head around. I can't imaging how isolating that must feel during those in between times. So it is during these conferences that I see my child, and others, thrive. I see their guards let down, and it is their time to shine. I never leave without shedding my body weight in tears. It warms my heart to know that the <a href="http://www.firstskinfoundation.org/" target="_blank">FIRST Foundation</a> has created a safe place for these kids. I don't know if the women of this organization realize how much they have changed all of our lives. They pour their blood, sweat, and tears into these conferences, and an organization, and none of them have ichthyosis, nor do they have any family members that have it. That is dedication. They provide us with resources, samples, genetic diagnoses, and support that we wouldn't have without them. So Jean, Chris, Moureen, Mo, Lisa, and Madeline, thank you so much. Thank for you changing our kids lives, and giving them hope, a safe place, and a network of support that they never would have had without you. You are our Angels! No words can express what you have done for our family. So I will leave you with this, smiles from two of the most beautiful people I know, and just two of the lives you have changed with your work! Love to you all!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ashlynne and Bailey, waiting for Grandma to<br />
return on the trolley</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8548263828993968734.post-59809462244455229462016-06-23T20:13:00.003-05:002016-06-23T20:20:49.757-05:00F.I.R.S.T. National Family Conference 2016- Day 1<span lang=""><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVsq9ilczivsqPRtdQioc-D5Z1CrsES87KCZHyvGLC3pmLOwIvr2h-1kum05Y8gA3wHkjk-BroW24CkYYZ6A5Z04xx9lJIvIwwncKJYqkJvpkkZm6IysBuzy4O4glhf5frQAwrDi9SDPM/s1600/IMG_2798.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVsq9ilczivsqPRtdQioc-D5Z1CrsES87KCZHyvGLC3pmLOwIvr2h-1kum05Y8gA3wHkjk-BroW24CkYYZ6A5Z04xx9lJIvIwwncKJYqkJvpkkZm6IysBuzy4O4glhf5frQAwrDi9SDPM/s320/IMG_2798.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And we're off!!</td></tr>
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Well, last night my mom, the kids, and I started out for our third trip to the FIRST Family Conference. The bi-annual conference takes turns where it is hosted, this year being held in San Diego. Normally we drive, and just make a vacation of it on the way, but there was no way I was going to attempt this drive knowing I would have to be doing a majority of the driving. So Delta it was! <br />
<br />
The first leg of our trip has been pretty uneventful so far. We had to be up and at the airport for our 7 AM flight out of Kansas City. It was Gavin's first trip on an airplane, so sleep seemed to evade him, and the giggling prevented me from getting much sleep. I was a little worried about how Mom would maneuver through all of the crowds and the airport with her leg since her accident, but she kept up pretty well! The only thing rough about the flight was the gas that someone was nice enough to keep sharing with the rest of us. By the end of the flight my senses were so offended, I think I had gotten used to the smell. Apparently it wasn't turbulence, so much as flatulence we needed to be concerned with. <br />
<br />
After being stuck on the tarmac for over 45 minutes when they told us it would be about 5 minutes before we could taxi, my back teeth were floating, and my kiddos set foot in California for the first time. During our 3 1/2 hour layover in LA, during which we could have driven to San Diego, they entertained themselves by seeing if they could spot any celebrities... mostly the YouTube stars they follow. No luck. I told them they were lucky enough to be in my presence every day. That, however, didn't seem to cut it. But, after 20 minutes in the air, we landed safe and sound in San Diego. We hopped in a cab, where I'm 99% sure I saw the cab driver eat his own booger, and headed to the Mariott, where we were greeted instantly with friends, lots of friends! Many we keep in regular contact with, but others we hadn't seen or talked to in two years. It's like a giant family reunion! Except without the hidden drama<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSp5i8Lqqox9sW4OvmqdohHHaqNz_dLt3kBYeBpk6YB2SUjzgnbpAf8JSxvqlQy5OPDgNTKdSmg48MUx37DBwUp7etCX2BqV7bHhLwr7q8U4E0iUPgMIkutn7BkMUJXy_A3TFjELCSvWI/s1600/IMG_2805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSp5i8Lqqox9sW4OvmqdohHHaqNz_dLt3kBYeBpk6YB2SUjzgnbpAf8JSxvqlQy5OPDgNTKdSmg48MUx37DBwUp7etCX2BqV7bHhLwr7q8U4E0iUPgMIkutn7BkMUJXy_A3TFjELCSvWI/s320/IMG_2805.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from my balcony for the next 4 days</td></tr>
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It takes me back to the first FIRST conference we attended in Denver 4 years ago, when I saw Ashlynne actually be herself for the first time outside of our home. I had never seen my child so relaxed around people as she was that week, and we get to revisit that feeling every two years. Once again, I see my kid at peace, I feel supported, in the presence of other parents watching their kiddos struggle, and in just a few hours, it will all officially begin when the registration reception starts. <br />
<br />
The classes are always so informative, and very often pretty emotional. I love everything I get out of these gatherings. They feel less like a "conference", and more like a class reunion, or a gathering among family and friends where we throw in some medical advice, and a whole lot of support. I so love this family that we have all formed, and am so excited to see what this year holds for us, and what new connections we make! ! <br />
<br />
We are patiently waiting for Jordan (aka, Sister Salmon) and Sadie to show up, but it's hard to wait to get my hands on my precious little "niece". So we are trying our best to kill time. So far, the kids have found the pool and hot tub, a killer pizza restaurant, and of course, a gift shop, and I have stained one pillow with my fresh hair color. I will be posting more updates along the way, with many shennanigans to follow (I'm sure!). I have joked several times that we will see if either my mom, or I, comes back from this alive after traveling with the kids, and spending this much time in a hotel room together... because chances are, only one of us will make it out unmaimed! So hang around and I guess you will see! Stay tuned, folks!</span>Cora Cosselhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01161869320208041746noreply@blogger.com0