Fitbits, Crackhead Boxers, and Being Sedentary

I'm pretty sure that smile is mocking me.

I haven’t considered myself an active human being for a very long time. I know I was a pretty hyper kid, for the most part. Sitting still was one of my greatest challenges when I wasn’t in a classroom setting. (There is a time and place for that sort of thing you know!) My mom always knew that a true punishment for me was to force me to stay somewhere and be still. Since I have my own kids now, I am not sure who truly suffered more when I was forced to stay on a certain piece of furniture or in my room for any length of time. I know for a fact I gave her plenty of hell as she made good on her threats. I also know how exhausting that can be as I am now raising a smaller, maybe even more persistent, version of myself. Reading wasn’t difficult for me, but I never read for pleasure because that required a good amount of sitting still. Although I was terrible at that particular skill as a child, I am excellent at it now.

Seriously. I can, like, out-sit the best of them! Part of me is excited for my next illness or surgical procedure because of all the sitting and lying down that is a part of the recovery process. I had a colonoscopy a few years ago and gained a whole new appreciation for the outpatient procedure. The staff usually works 8-5 and they get regular breaks and lunches. They are usually in good moods and not stressed out about being on their feet for the past 12 hours and never getting the chance to either feed or relieve themselves. They are more open to making small talk and bringing you those blankets from the magical warming oven. That thing is a gift from heaven and we should all take a moment to thank the person who came up with that idea. If you happen to wonder what to get me for Christmas, a magical box that makes things warm so that I can wrap those things around me is pretty high up on my list right about now.

I guess it’s good to know that I still have the same attention span as I did in my youth….I just got away from my point of this post!

SQUIRREL!!!

What I am trying to do is share with the world that I recently got a Fitbit to track my everyday activity. (Why do we now feel so compelled to share this crap with the world? I can probably count on one hand the number of people who might remotely give a damn about this. But share, I must!) I just got the basic model called a Zip so I could clip it to any part of my person and get on with my life. (A rubber bracelet would have annoyed me to no end!) I saw this purchase as a way to track the number of steps I take in a day and give myself small, manageable goals to increase them. Basically, I need to trick myself to make any significant changes in my life.

I’ve been told I’m stubborn, but you’ll never get me to believe that.

They say the average person should take 10,000 steps a day, which ends up being about 5 miles. I feel like I am a pretty busy person, and I’m sure that I still am. However, a lot of the things that keep me busy are things that don’t end up forcing me to move much. (Have you seen that video of the sloth trying to cross the street? I think I’m a lot more like him than I am most of you!)

Apparently, the number of steps I take on average each day places me in the dead center of what most people consider to be ‘sedentary.’

Yes, I’m very proud!

I was certain I moved more than your average pregnant woman on bed rest, but I guess I don’t. I’m pretty sure that whoever can see the data on my Fitbit probably assumes I am part of a royal family who gets carried around on piles of velvet pillows while shirtless bohunks feed me grapes and fan me with palm leaves and…where was I going with this again? I suddenly have a new appreciation for my metabolism and I am not quite sure why I don’t weigh so much that they have to remove one of the walls of my home to get me out of it. As ‘busy’ as I am, it’s clear that not much actual movement is required to fold laundry or cook dinner or wash dishes. Yeah, pretty much most of the things I do in a day involved standing in the same place. There are always those moms who use their kids’ soccer practice as an opportunity to take a brisk walk with a couple of friends. In case you haven’t picked up on it by now; I am not one of those moms! I don’t like walking with other people because my legs don’t listen very well and it takes concentration to not trip over my own feet and keep up with the pace that the other person clearly prefers. I hate to feel like I am slowing someone down. I don’t like to walk alone because….well, because I DON’T LIKE TO WALK. I cannot stress that enough.

I love that I can see firsthand where I need to improve myself. I don’t love that I’m not exactly sure what I want to do with that information. Now that I know how little I actually move, I am way more curious about how many steps other people take in a day. David is a UPS driver. He is moving ALL DAY LONG. How many steps does a typical UPS driver take in a day? I can assume it’s a lot, but I really want to know how many. I am tempted to clip my new toy onto my youngest daughter. The kid seriously never stops moving, with the exception of when she is in class at school. It’s scary how much that one is like her mother. How many steps would the Fitbit count during a cartwheel? She does those things all freaking day. What would happen if I were to clip the Fitbit to the collar of one of my boxers? (Not just any of them, but the youngest one that we affectionately call ‘The Crackhead.’) How many steps does it take to get into a playful scuffle with the other dogs or to chase the dot of a laser pointer? How many steps does it take to walk in enough circles to decide on the perfect place to take a crap? No WONDER my dogs are in such good shape!

I’m pretty sure that whoever could see the data collected on my Fitbit would then think I was a crackhead. Who goes from being sedentary to numbers that are off the charts? And where does one get the pills required to make that happen?

For today, I am hoping to achieve the number of steps that would put me about halfway between what would be considered ‘sedentary’ and the ideal 10,000. I need to embrace my newfound love for yoga pants and athletic shoes and use them for more than just sitting at the table and drinking coffee. Am I the only person in the world who didn’t know how awesome yoga pants are? It’s clear that I should come out from under my rock more often and take a look around.

The world still has a few things to teach me, I guess.

Pick a Team, People!

 

 

So many parents have their children in sports or other extra curricular activities outside of school.  There seem to be so many options when it comes to learning about the value of hard work, practice, exercise, winning and losing with grace, and being a part of a team.  Those are all very important things that our kids can learn through all of these games and events.  Between soccer, baseball, softball, football, cheerleading, 4-H, Destination Imagination, school plays….let’s just say we have a lot of opportunities for our children to learn these basic life skills.  As parents, we seem to be overrun with options when it comes to extra curricular activities for our smaller humans.  We have so many options that we tend to bite off more than our children should have to chew.

 

Right now, I have a soccer player, a cheerleader, and a cheer coach.  (I can barely count the cheer coach as my responsibility because she is 18, in college, and gets herself where she needs to go.  However, she’s still MINE.)  We have practice four days a week for those two different teams.  Games are on Saturday, but the soccer schedule won’t be made until after the seeding tournament, which is…oh crap, I think that’s coming up soon! I’d better check on that, huh?  Those games can be anywhere between 10 minutes and 2 hours away from our house.    I know that Saturdays are going to be crazy and David and I might have to divide and conquer to get both younger girls to their respective games when they need to be.  Sometimes, one of my girls may have to catch a ride with one of their friends’ parents to get to their game.  They are learning to understand that we will make every effort to be at their games,  but we make no promises.  There are very few good excuses for us to miss their games, as the kids are our priority right now.  I usually stay and watch most of the practices too.  It’s a good chance for me to see how they are interacting with their teammates and coaches and to actually see their progress as it happens.  (Okay, so it’s a good chance for me to read as well.  I can multitask!)

 

Enter:  More options.

 

There is a play coming up.  My girls would love to be in it, but rehearsals would overlap with their current practice schedules.  This is the part where I feel like we start sort of failing our kids.  If I allowed them to audition for the play and they made it, they would be forced to choose who they are going to let down on a regular basis.  Will we let the soccer team down in favor of play practice?  Will we miss half of play practice in order to make it to soccer practice on time?  What if there is a soccer game on the actual day of the play?  We would be forced to make a choice and would be disappointing someone no matter which choice we made.  And somehow, parents are making that seem like it’s okay.  It’s okay to let the team down and not show up for soccer because we want to do this other thing this weekend.  After all, team loyalty and commitment aren’t really all that important, right? 

 

So, so wrong.

 

In addition to the play, the girls have also expressed an interest in taking piano lessons and gymnastics.  I know these kids are young.  I know they have so many possibilities ahead of them that we can’t help but sign them up for as many activities and experiences as possible.  I also know that the world wouldn’t end if 11YO didn’t show up for a soccer game or 8YO missed a football game.  But the lessons they really need to learn from these activities aren’t just about getting better control over a soccer ball or learning how to kick higher.  When you sign your child up for a team or activity, they are making a commitment to their team to always show up and do their best.  (Within reason, of course.  Illness and one-time family commitments are pretty much the only things that should take priority over that promise they made to their team.)  Whether our kids ended up enjoying their team sports or not, they have to finish out the season.  They made a commitment and it should be honored.  Even if they get injured and cannot participate, they should be at those games cheering on their teammates.  That also helps reinforce the feeling that they are an important part of that team.  Kids need to feel important to people besides their family members and that doesn’t usually happen when they are allowed to half-participate in a dozen different things. 

 

On top of practice schedules and games, kids also need to squeeze in homework, time with friends, and time to just be kids without anyplace to go or anything that has to be done.  Basically, they need time to be bored.  They need time to be kicked outside to wander around the yard or ride  bikes.  They need the chance to build a blanket fort in the living room or to work on crafts or put a puzzle together.  Some of my favorite days are the ones where nothing is planned.  (Those are, truthfully, my most favorite days EVER!)  They don’t usually start out very fun, though.  My kids usually approach me and point out that we NEVER do anything fun and all of their friends have way more exciting lives than they do.  Why can’t we DO something fun?  Why can’t we GO somewhere?  Those days start out with lots of complaints from the peanut gallery, but usually end with a board game that has been hiding in a closet or an adventure in the yard where they pretend they are running a restaurant or trying to survive in the wilderness.  I don’t initiate those things.  I simply ignore their whining and they eventually end up doing things that kids are supposed to be doing and having way more fun than they expected to have.  Like it or not, they are going to have to live with themselves for the rest of their lives.  They need to know what to do with themselves when there is nothing to do.  That’s when they truly start to figure out who they are as people. 

 

No, my kids won’t be auditioning for the upcoming play.  8YO won’t be playing Fall Ball, even though she loves softball, because the practice schedules are likely to either overlap with cheer practice or fill up the rest of our week with obligations.  It would probably either burn her out, cause her grades to suffer, or make her feel like giving less effort because she will be spreading herself so thin.  She is eight years old.  The skills she would learn in a second sport or activity at this time in her life aren’t as important as the lesson she is learning about prioritizing and following through on her commitments.  In the spring, she plans to play softball again.  If she changes her mind before signups and wants to do something else, then she won’t be playing softball.  I allow my kids to choose their activities, but it’s up to David and me to make sure they learn how to follow through.  According to my kids, I am the mean mom that won’t let them do more than one extra curricular activity at a time. 

 

I can live with that. 

Prioritizing, Nudist Colonies, and Houseplant Homicide

 

 

Hello, my name is Leann…and I have some bad habits.

Don’t we all, though?

(Seriously, I need you to say that I’m not alone here.)

And just like that, I reveal what is probably my worst and most self-destructive habit:  I spend a good part of each day second-guessing myself.  What am I doing right now that I actually should be doing?  Well, it’s quite obvious that I am writing this…but is that the most important thing?  I guess everyone needs an outlet, but it’s hard to tell myself that this is the thing that I should be doing right now.  After all, there are dozens of other things that I could and probably should be doing.  The kitchen tablecloth should be changed.  There are crumbs on it.  I seriously need to give my floors a good mopping.  And vacuum my couch.  There is always laundry that could be washed.  And I do realize that closing the blinds is only a temporary solution to dirty windows.  (At least, that’s what I keep telling myself!)

In case you haven’t noticed, this is not one of those blogs you can refer to for cleaning and organizing tips!

The  sad reality is that those things will always need to  be done.  Sure, I have joked about dragging my family to live on a nudist colony for the sole reason that I would be more likely to feel like the laundry is actually DONE at some point.  Even when it’s all washed, dried, folded, and put away, the stuff we’re wearing…IT’S DIRTY!  (Sure…it would be awkward, but I’m hoping the sense of accomplishment I might get from having the laundry completed a more attainable goal would outweigh the things I and my family would not be able to UNsee.)

On a day like today, it’s fairly easy to convince myself that all those chores are not the most important thing.  I can argue a good case in favor of this theory, really.  After all, do I really want my headstone to say, “Leann…Beloved Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister, and she kept a very tidy pantry?”  In all honesty, I don’t think I could really be the sort of person who stays on top of everything amiss in my home.  I don’t seem to be able to find any middle ground between acting like I don’t really care and screaming, “YOU PEOPLE ARE RUINING MY LIFE AND ARE NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH ANYTHING OR SIT ANYWHERE EVER AGAIN.”  I can’t seem to find the motivation to follow behind my family members and pick up the trails of crap they leave behind as they meander from one room to another without building up a fair amount of resentment toward them.   

And how exactly does a pair of shoes end up with each one in a different room?  Also, do not get me started on the Rainbow Loom rubber bands that can be found along the baseboards, under the furniture, and in every pile of crap I sweep up from any room in the house!

I don’t think we are  necessarily messier than other people; we just don’t have good habits in place to stay on top of things.  I don’t think to do a nightly sweep of the living room and other common areas to put things away and straighten up everything.  (How are people find that kind of energy and ambition at the end of their day?)  But, in all fairness, I also don’t think to water plants or feed fish on a regular basis either.  My children and pets stay alive because THEY TELL ME WHEN THEY NEED SOMETHING. AND THEY DO NOT LET ME FORGET.

I’m also pretty sure there is a mug shot of me somewhere behind the register of every garden area in every chain store in this county with the caption, ‘DO NOT sell live plants to this woman.    She’s a threat to houseplants and basic horticulture as we know it.  Selling a live plant (of any kind, no matter how drought or flood tolerant you might think it to be) to her is basically giving that plant a death sentence.’

Part of my problem is my whole thought process.  Most people might notice that a plant needs water and….oh, I don’t know….WATER IT.  For me, it’s not that simple.  First of all, I will need to get some form of container full of water in my hands.  Usually, I just dump a half-full water bottle that is probably left on the coffee table or wherever.  That’s is not always a guaranteed thing to find, though I usually find it more often than not!  Even then, the number of things that grabs my attention before I can get the water to the plant and actually water it can be staggering.  I might see something else that needs to be put away.  I might remember a phone call I was supposed to make or something crucial that might need to be added to that week’s shopping list.  If any one thing gets in my way between me and the act of watering that plant, that poor plant doesn’t stand a chance of being watered on that particular day!  The next day doesn’t usually look good either.  (Sadly, the problem with grabbing half-empty water bottles to water my plants is that I sometimes end up overwatering the plants.  I possess absolutely no intuition whatsoever when it comes to the needs of all things green.  Also, I have little to no natural sunlight in my house…and I like it that way!)

A couple of years ago, I read a book that made an impact on how I see things.  I should probably read it again.  It’s called ‘The Power of Habit:  Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business.’  It really spoke to me.  In the book, they talk about how the creators of Febreeze first struggled to even give the product away and then went on to make it a household name. They did this by making people believe that it should be a crucial part of their daily routine. It also talks about Target and how they give us all these deals in order to track our purchases and send us coupons relevant to where we appear to be in our lives, thus getting us back in their store more often.  For example, an adult female who purchases a pregnancy test and yoga pants is most likely pregnant and they will mail her coupons for baby stuff.  An adult male who purchases dinnerware and linens is probably going through a divorce or moving to a new place and they will send him coupons for frozen dinners and basic toiletries.  If they can predict the habits of the customer, they can make themselves more relevant and necessary in the everyday lives of those customers .  Shopping at Target will become a regular habit for people and they will go there more often.  It’s genius, really!  I imagine the stores that require a membership have that same ability.  Just recently, I went to Sam’s Club and purchased nothing but a jar of coconut oil and a package of men’s underwear.

What does that say about my life, Mr. Walton?

I need to get into the habit of….getting into better habits.  I just feel like all the jobs I need to do as a mother are distracting me from the jobs I need to do as a mother!  I usually spend most days in survival mode and just conquer what seems to be most important that day.  If 8YO has a softball game or 11YO has a soccer game, laundry is likely to seem more important.  If we run out of clean forks, running the dishwasher gets bumped to the top of my list of things to do.  (But seriously, how do these people go through so many forks?)  Some days, my priorities don’t concern anything in the house and are all about running errands and shuttling the kids from one place to another.  If someone is coming over, well…then it becomes my priority to go into ‘crisis mode’ and run around screaming at those fork-overusing, shoe-losing, Rainbow Loom rubber band-dropping people I seem to have spawned.  They are actually able to clean quite well when you put a little pressure on them.  (The fact that I am usually shooting flames out of my eyes and foaming at the mouth by that point doesn’t hurt either.)  

Thanks to that book, I’ve realized that we all have the power to overcome addiction, poverty, depression, and improve our overall lives by being honest with where we are in life and replacing one bad habit at a time with a good one.

But will I ever have the power to keep houseplants alive? 

Probably not.

Let Them Feel

 

Our family has recently suffered a loss.  Okay, so we lost something we only knew existed for a little over 24 hours, but it was a loss just the same.

 

The day before yesterday, I was on the phone with a friend when I heard this horrible screeching noise coming from outside.  I peered out the blinds onto the back patio first.  My three dogs once caught a baby opossum and played with it to death, so I naturally assumed they were part of the reason for the terrible sounds of suffering I was hearing.  The back patio was vacant and quiet, meaning the dogs were somewhere in the rest of the yard napping.  The sound was definitely coming from the front yard. 

 

I stepped out my front door to see this little white creature hopping frantically in circles and screaming while my cat clumsily stalked it. Thankfully, my cat is a very crappy hunter.  The creature in question was a baby bunny. A really freaked out baby bunny.  I quickly put my cat in the house and chased the bunny toward my front door.  It wedged itself between the building and this old metal milk jug that sits on our front porch.  I reached down and picked up the critter, who was sort of frozen in fear at that point.  While trying to get a better look at my latest discovery, the little booger did this little ‘ninja maneuver’ where it did a back flip out of my arms and landed back on the concrete.  I quickly scooped the furball up in my arms for the second time.  My mind was instantly reeling, trying to both figure out where the bunny could have possibly come from and what I could do with it to keep it safe until I knew what we were actually going to do with it.  Keep it?  Find a home for it?  I knew what David would want (not another pet, that’s for sure!) and I knew what the girls and I would want.  (The more the merrier, right?)

 

How could one NOT want to keep this little bundle of adorableness?  I will name him George, and I will hug him, and pet him, and  squeeze him…and pat him, and pet him…and rub him and caress him…

 

The girls were so very excited to find out, when they got out of school, that there was a bunny waiting at home.  Since I have a bit of experience with rabbits, (from the years I worked in a pet store and the menagerie of critters we had when I was growing up) I know that handling a rabbit too much in general is a bad idea.  Handling a young, recently freaked out little rabbit is a really terrible idea.  Rabbits are prey; flight animals, if you will.  Too much attention can stress a rabbit out when it’s most basic instincts are telling it that it’s life is constantly in danger.  Now, once a rabbit is strong and used to it’s people and environment, they can be handled more and even trained to run around the house like a dog.  I have personally seen a few rabbits that really didn’t seem to know that they weren’t, in fact, dogs.  I carefully explained to the girls that we needed to leave this bunny alone as much as possible until it got over its PTSD or whatever you call the current state of a recently freaked out little critter.  (If you have never heard a bunny scream, consider yourself lucky.  It’s traumatic for all who have to hear it.)

I gave the rabbit a medicine dropper of water every couple of hours, letting the girls touch and pet it a bit when I had it out.  Other than that, the bunny spent most of that first day in a box, hiding under an old beach towel. 

 

We had an old rabbit cage and I was able to get the girls to clean it out.  I borrowed a water bottle and some alfalfa hay from my friend (Thanks Jenn!) and had 17YO pick up a small bag of rabbit food.  For the rest of the day, the bunny only took small amounts of water and had no interest in eating anything.

 

The next morning, we woke up to what seemed like a whole new rabbit.  Its eyes were brighter, its ears were up and swiveling in the direction of any noise it heard, and its little nose was pink and constantly twitching.  It nibbled on a small piece of carrot and a tiny bit of alfalfa hay.   I was excited to see it finally had an interest in food, but relieved it only ate a little.  Bunnies also have delicate tummies and don’t handle changes in their diet very well. 

 

Seriously, why do people have rabbits as pets?  Your instincts to want to feed them a lot of food and snuggle them constantly COULD KILL THEM.  What kind of pet is that?

 

The most freaking adorable kind, that’s what! 

 

11YO poses with the bunny that morning.  Seems fine, right?

 

This little thing fit in my hand!  Who wouldn’t want to keep it safe and make sure it thrives? 

 

Basically, we came home yesterday to find the bunny was, once again, listless.  Within mere hours, the bright eyes we saw that morning were nowhere to be seen.  The ears were not up and there was no fight left in it as we scooped it up and held it.  I attempted to give it more water, dehydration being the only thing I would possibly know how to treat…even though, knowing its water intake, I didn’t think that could be it.  It didn’t accept or fight the water.  I placed it back in the cage, under the towel where I knew it felt safest, and left it alone.  I warned the girls that it didn’t look like the bunny would survive.  After all, we had  no idea where it came from, how old it was, or what had happened to it prior to its appearance in our front yard.

 

Within half an hour or so, the bunny started having seizures.  The girls initially started to giggle because it’s something they have never really witnessed before. Seeing a little baby rabbit rolling across the bottom of its cage was unexpected, to say the least.  I quickly explained that it wasn’t a good thing and that it couldn’t help it. 

 

Sadly, 11YO, 8YO, and I watched the bunny take its last breaths within a few minutes.  11YO and I just watched quietly as 8YO threw herself onto the couch, wailing. I explained that the bunny could have come here sick and sometimes things die and we can’t save them.  Life is fragile, especially when it comes in the form of a fluffy, white, baby rabbit.  After many tears,  (all from 8YO, mind you.  11YO is more like I am and doesn’t cry as often.) the girls decided they wanted to bury the rabbit.  On their own, they chose a spot and dug the hole.  I inspected the hole and, once I helped them make it a bit deeper, we all came inside to get the bunny’s body.  I got an old pillowcase and 8YO carefully picked the bunny up and wrapped it up.  She ceremoniously carried the bunny outside and placed it in the grave, picked up a handful of dirt, and looked to me for approval before throwing the dirt on the bunny.  I told her it was okay to do that and that a lot of people do that at funerals, either dropping handfuls or even shovelfuls of dirt on the casket before it is lowered into the ground.  (It gives many people a sense of closure to  be a part of the process of burying a loved one and I think it’s a beautiful tradition.)  We finished covering the grave with dirt and the girls placed a small stick in the ground to mark the spot. 

 

We stood outside a few minutes and then the girls put the shovels away and we all came back into the house.  The rest of the evening included homework, showers, dinner, and making s’mores in the fireplace.  There were, however, no more tears.  The night was exactly as it needed to be.

 

While I am certainly not happy that the poor rabbit died, I’m glad my girls got to experience those feelings of loss and sadness.  These are life skills that so many kids are being denied the privilege of learning.  Like most parents, I don’t take pleasure in seeing my kids suffer.  However, I know they need to.  I have to put aside my own needs and remind myself that part of being a good parent is letting them fall down sometimes.  That’s the only way they can learn to pick themselves back up again.  They need know how to feel  things, good or bad, and deal with those feelings accordingly.  I can’t tell them how to feel or that their feelings are wrong.  Everyone needs to come to their own conclusions in life based on their own expectations and experiences.  I never follow a lecture or punishment up with an immediate hug and words of affection.  They need to feel remorse for wrongful actions and I can’t allow them to skip that part to make myself feel better.  They need to learn to feel regret and decide for themselves why their actions or words were a bad choice.   

 

I look around and see so many kids that don’t seem to be getting those life lessons.  It would have been so easy to try to shield my girls from the death of the bunny.  I could have sent them to their rooms or offered to take them somewhere else.  Protect them from the sadness.  I could have promised them another bunny right away or something else they have been wanting me to buy them.  I could have done so many things to stop the tears and distract them from the sadness they were feeling at that very moment.  But they needed to feel that.  And I would much rather they learn to deal with their feelings of losing a bunny they had barely known existed for a full day before they lose a significant person in their lives.  The stages of grief need to be dealt with whether you are dealing with losing a goldfish or a family member.  Death is a big part of life and we have no real control over that.  We just have to learn how to get through it.

 

When I worked at the pet store, I can’t tell you how many phone calls I took from frantic parents who were looking for the exact duplicate of a pet that just died so that they could replace it before their children either got home from school or noticed they were gone.  Even at the age of 18, before I had kids or even a clue about life, I had to fight my urge to tell those parents that they should just let their children find out that their pet died.  They should be allowed to cry and be sad. If they want to storm to their bedroom and slam their door, let them.   If they want it, they should be showered in hugs and kisses and be encouraged to share stories about the pet they lost.  They should be reminded of how lucky they were to have spent time with something that grew to mean so much to them.  And they should be given the chance to pick themselves up and move on with their lives.  It’s okay to be sad.  Don’t stifle or distract them from the truth.

 

Tomorrow’s not promised to any of us, right?  That’s a good reminder to enjoy today a little more; appreciate what we have right now and the memories of what we used to have and have already lost.  It’s made us who we are and maybe we can use those skills and experiences to make the world a better place, one dead bunny at a time.