It Wasn't Me

It wasn't me talking the other day. Or now. I swear. Alter ego taketh over and here she goes!

The girls are at their dad's.

I hate saying that. There it is. I said it. I hate saying it.

It is raining and I am awake but refusing to do work or chores no matter how behind.

Yup, said that too.

Wish I could sleep. What will it take to get one to sleep sans nightmares? (Other than a new history which obviously isn't going to happen)

Ahhhhhhhhh

So much has been going on and I have been so far away from my writing place. Speaking of which, it is about time this girl gets published. SDFM contacted me and elated with joy I am awaiting the reply from the editor with the go-ahead for one of my ideas before I just go there and slip an article in their layout. Kidding. Seriously though, it is about time. I'm officially in my "thirties" now and DAMN I've been through enough to know I what I want and I want to follow my dreams.

I look around my partially empty house and shiver at past memories. I take a second look and only see a positive and fulfilling future. It is mine because I will work for it.

If I am really quiet for a moment, I can hear the tiny sounds of my not-so-baby-but-always-my-baby breathing in the other room. I get up and check on him occasionally and see the tiny curls frame his face. He sleeps with his mouth slightly open with his plump lower lip (oh how I am jealous- botox, restilin (sp?)- when the money comes I want you!!!) just like his daddy.

All three kids sleep in similar positions but so different. It is so amazing that these small people grew inside my body for thirty-seven weeks and now are real people that are going to grow up and contribute to the world in some fabulous way (because their souls will be raised to want to be fabulous and fabulous excretes from their pores).

T senses you are close to her and the moment you collapse into the cool sheets and pull up the blanket she is on you like butter on toast. Melting to your form and discontent with anything less than full coverage. She is almost as big as me, yet when she sleeps she is still a baby to me. I wonder when she is my age and I look at her asleep (if I am so lucky) if I will still see that same form- that baby in her always. Will I remember the way she leisurely nursed as if all my time was for her? I held her constantly, as this was her needs. She was slow to crawl, tentative to walk, but had no problem running. Her brain works fast. She takes in every detail and remembers everything. Quiet at first, she astonishes me with what comes out of her once she opens up. Even our little girls must grow up and we hope we are teaching her the best and being the role model we need to be. Baby, I tell her, don't rush to grow up. Enjoy this time. Enjoy your youth. It will never be this way again. She, as the oldest, as been through the most and seen too much and heard too much. Still she flourishes and we battle wits and I commend and respect her because she is HER.

Little L. Petite and tiny I almost forget she is a Big Girl now and not a baby. After a hard and terrible morning, she asked me to pick her up out of the car and carry her to the classroom as I dropped her off to preschool. She snuggled in like she was the only one and had my world in her hands. I kissed her tiny toes as I convinced her to change her shoes because of the rain. My fashion Diva has such a mind of her own when it comes to getting dressed. Did I battle my mom in such a way? Her outfit perfectly blended in a trendy way, mixing her hand-me-downs with her own clothes in the most fashionable of ways. She was set and ready and cried when I left for work. Tears fall from my eyes sometimes as I too am not quite adjusted to the full-time work/full-time mom thing when I always planned on staying home with my children.

But times change, situations change, economies even change and so we must too change with them and do it with a smile. I am proud of what I do. I know it will benefit them someday although I ache and ache to be back with them living every moment and being their number one. That is now lost and can never be returned. I know what I am doing is best for them, for me. But it still hurts as oftentimes change does.

Little L, the artist, wanted to "change" my bathroom. You know, in all the remodeling done to the house one of the last things on the list was the master bathroom and painting of the bedroom. So it has remained (like so many other things) unfinished for about two years now since the collapse of our "empire". Yes I said it out loud. We had a downfall. I'm still alive. I have learned so much. I can even talk about it. But that is another (long) story.

So, in a mere three minutes she pulled out a horrible Hunter Green paint and decoupage glue from my pre-kids days when I used to actually have talents including crafts and proceeded to paint the bathroom.

Her three minutes took me another two hours to fix (and of course, it will never be completely fixed until the cabinets and counter are refinished or replaced because I may be a mom but not a total miracle worker) and I followed that clean-up with a nice hot shower because really, there wasn't much else to do.

T's intelligence and L's creativity remind me of the biggest parts of me that I do not always now how to control. And so when they do certain things, I am OHSOMAD and ready to teach a lesson but deep down- shhhhh don't let them know yet- I get it.

Tiny D is growing and exploring and learning mischief from his sisters. He can climb from the floor to the chairs and get on the table and dance to the cartoon music. As much as this makes me want to laugh out loud, I know I must put it to a stop before I am cleaning baby brains up and I immediately reprimand him in the way one can discipline a one-year-old and pray he finds something less dangerous to discover. Or less disgusting than the toilet...

My last baby. I was so happy to get my tubes tied, so ready to say never again, I am done. But now that most of my cervix is, well, gone and all that other stuff I cannot have kids in any way ever again and a small (sick?) part of me is sad. I grieve.

I am in a state of excitement and grieving all at once over so many things. That is why I have not been writing. That is why tonight I am not writing well. My mind moves too fast. My body too slow. I don't know when it is appropriate to laugh and when to cry. This also will change with time (or meds) but for now, it is a day by day approach to taking it in and being real while still putting on the game face.

Yup, I said it. I put on the game face sometimes. And I hope I do it well. I hope most of you have no idea which is the real thing and which is the one for show.

I never want to be a downer. I never want to be "that girl" no matter what I go through. No matter what I survive (did you see my purple ribbon added on to the site? speaking of survival... it speaks for all cancers and domestic violence and is my favorite color. talk about having it all!).

I write tonight knowing I am saying things I normally would not.
I write tonight knowing I am not saying much at all.
I know by not saying much sometimes it says a lot.
These things I know to be true.
Like laughter and bubbles and nature's intentions.

I take a break and then return to the blog to write some more. I don't remember my intention in posting this tonight. I don't think I had one.

I hear in the back of my head Peter, Paul and Mary singing.
"Lemon Tree very pretty and the lemon flower is sweet. But the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat."

I hear Cat Stevens whispering to me.
"I never wanted to be a star. I never wanted to travel far.

Robert Frost says to me:
Two road diverged in a yellow wood and I, I took the one less traveled by. And that has made all the difference.

Somewhere else I hear a whisper from Johnny Cash, "I walk the line"

Don't we?

Laura Roppe reminds me "To hold on for just one more day"

And so I will.

Sometimes I have something to say. And sometimes I have something to say about nothing.

Much Ado About Nothing

So, a month has gone by and I haven't posted a thing on this blog. I have however blogged my brains out on my work site (if you haven't been there lately- shame on you, click the link to the boutique below!) and added some personal writings on my other two blogs.

I got some fantastic news early this month (and still didn't post). Results from my surgery are in. The margins are clear and the doc is pretty certain nothing spread- meaning no further surgery for a while and no further treatment necessary! Yahoo! Who's ass did I kick this year? Cancers. Hmpf.

Yet, I've still had a troubled month and an overworked, overwhelmed mind. I feel like I'm kind of in a mixed state (meaning rambling thoughts covering a deepening depression) which I am vehemently fighting off. I'm even (shock) looking for a psychiatrist to get my meds adjusted after my many years of banning one. Luckily, this will fall under state funding I am eligible for since I still have no health insurance. I am also returning to a chiropractor (http://www.activeposture.com/) and working on getting some of this pain under control. Of course, with everything I have (including arthritis of the spine) it isn't a cure-all but really, really needed. And I'm hoping to finally have some migraine relief. More on that as it goes...

However, if all goes according to plan it looks as though MB might have FINALLY gotten a job- and one with benefits in 90 days so we'll see how that goes. That all however is another long story and my head is not up for it at all.

My sleep is still totally fucked up but I guess that is just a symptom of so many other things. I have gotten (with help) some really long nights of sleep but afterwards I still don't feel "rested" and I am longing for this fatigue to pass now that I have fully recovered from my surgery and it has been over a year since I was pregnant.

The little ones are getting bigger and more mischievous. They surprise me daily with their antics and make me smile with their love for life.

Business is well, going.

Taxes are getting filed to be followed by finally the BIG filing I don't like to talk about but it has to be done and I want it done now. Like everything else, I wonder where I will fit it all in but I know I will because it must be done.

I am in a state where music moves me, little things are big, and my mind is too fast to curl up with a book.

It is raining. Hard, beautiful rain on a cold pre-Thanksgiving night. The last time it rained, a beautiful rainbow found its way outside our bay window. The two little ones were asleep for their nap but I called over to T to take a look and it moved her in such a way she cried and said she had never seen anything so beautiful. Her breath was taken away by this thing that all children know about and draw but in her five years she had yet to see and really take in. This was the real thing- the full round dark rainbow that only shines here every now and then. We got a great couple pictures and cuddled under the blanket on the couch and turned back to watching Hannah Montana. I'm too tired to upload the picture but I'll try and edit the posting another night.

*Here it is*

So, lots and lots of other news. Lots to say. But being one AM and all and the downpour of rain taunting me- I think I'll go to bed...

Insomnia: Part III

Okay, so....
last night I slept pretty good, considering everything. Pretty good for me at least.

Yet I was still tired today. So tired I could barely think. I contemplated wishing I had the kind of job I could call in sick while the Nanny watched the kids and I slept twelve hours.

This morning, I could not even practically move enough to pour some cereal for the poor children attempting to put on a Ballet for me before I dragged myself into the shower.

I expected tonight as soon as they went out, so would I. But I had a few chores to finish up and I'm about to fold my last load of laundry and would you look at the time?

Ugh. I'm going to get through this in one piece.

I always do.

Insomnia: Part II

(Hint: Reading Insomnia first would make more sense of this entry...)

Or maybe it is because we know what the reality of the morning and tomorrow brings. And that is what gets in the way of our sleep.

A human can only survive so long without sleep; sleep is necessary like food and water.

So eventually I know, my mind and body and soul will break and sleep will wash over me like the blue waves of Bora Bora.

Eyes so tired they can not read a book, see a computer or watch TV can suddenly pop open when they hit a bed knowing tomorrow brings new challenges to face and old ones to surrender and deal with.

XOXO

Insomnia

Deep breath.

Anxiety sends shivers down my spine. Nights and nights of sleep deprivation, worry, and pain have left me in a thick fog.

Pain not only keeps me from sleeping and awakens me during the night, but distracts me throughout my day. Thoughts of things undone burden me at times when I am unable to tend to them. Taxes due, unfinished inventory, appointments to make and attend, phone calls not returned, things to post, a dishwasher to unload, laundry piling up, etc. We all have a clear picture of our unfinished tasks.

My personal life is in shambles and my finances are sickening.

I worry about the children.

Not only do I feel emotionally destroyed, but my appetite is at its best a minimum and what does go in rarely wants to stay. Migraines come and go as they please. Muscle spasms- probably due to unusual movements of doing too much in different ways to avoid the pain after surgery- seem to not be healing.

I have no health insurance.
My children have no health insurance.

I try and keep the most positive, upbeat attitude and demeanor possible. But inside I feel the monster ripping up my insides and at night I lie there writhing in pain no amount of medicine seems to cure. Subside a little perhaps, but no better than that.

My coffee pot is broken.
And that is the least of the worries.

Balled up disgust comes out as the random leg cramp. When I do sleep, I suffer from disturbing dreams and nightmares I am aware I am having, but cannot awaken from.

I long for a lengthy, uninterrupted, healthy, healing and refreshing sleep.

Almost midnight and I am not even there yet. My day starts in just under seven hours. I never needed much sleep, but night after night of rarely any at all (and certainly no actual good sleep), I have no idea how many hours it would take to get me to the place where I need to be.

The problems never go away. If not these, than that. So really I should not focus on those "things" as being reasons.

My eyes are tired and this computer screen seems far away. A lot of things seem very, very far away right now and others seem too close for my liking.

I know I will get into my bed and at least lie there in an attempt to rest my soul even if my mind does not cooperate.

Insomnia has made me beyond mad before. Back in the day before I even new there were things to take to help. And then, even after.
Night after night would blend into some sort of dream. Sometimes it would be days or even weeks before a real sleep would come. Even when they started me on meds and sleeping pills this did not change. The hallucinations become so vivid after enough time. Sometimes you feel as if you are sleeping with your eyes open in odd places. Time passes unusually. Things happen that you are unsure are really happening and will never really know if they did.

Sometimes our stress leads us to oversleeping and an unwillingness to wake up and move on. I am not in that place. If I just go through the motions everyday, maybe something right will happen. Tempers are short when we are tired. We don't look well. Eventually others notice. They comment as if we do not know. As if there is something we can do about it.

Advice is given unwanted and freely like when you are pregnant in a public place and some stranger comments about what you should be eating regularly or how to wear the right shoes to support the baby. As if someone with any common sense does not know these things. Whether or not we do everything perfectly and correctly, for the most part we already know. And when we don't, probably we are reading about it, asking, looking it up.

Sleep.

I long for you.

I feel your blanket covering my cold, small body like nothing else can. I shiver thinking about it.

We want each other in a comforting way.

The mind spins so fast we cannot even concentrate long enough to sleep sometimes, some weeks.

Like a bowl of hot soup, I know it will feel good and I should feel better after.

Such chaos surrounds me and my game face is plastered on. I do not know what I feel.

Exhausted. Three syllables that don't do true justice when we truly feel it. Exhausted is not just a night of up late talking or too much wine the night before or even a hard day of work or dealing with our children. It is a true physical sensation that only coincides with a lifetime of sleep deprivation. Fatigue after weeks of lacking proper sleep hurts our brain, compromising our decision making and ability to do our best. That is exhaustion.

So many word are overused- or should I say misused? As they are some kind of verb or adjective to describe something simple when actually their meanings are much more complex.

TBC

Where did she go?

Where has she been they ask?

Or perhaps they have not noticed that I have not been to this place in about six weeks.

It is interesting how the time flies by as we age.

If you read them all, you would have noticed that I have been around some. A little Live Journaling and a little Fresh Picking but not really a lot of writing about me and life. Have I been avoiding because I am afraid my flowing thoughts might put words on this page I might not want to see? Or did I just not want to talk about it? And what really is "so busy, you know, and all"?

And still I am not saying anything at all yet.

If we made a chart of our life that included everyday we would every live and could put a bright dot on what we believe would make it to the top one hundred weeks in our existence and a dark dot on what we believe would be the toughest/hardest/saddest, this week would have a dark dot.

And I don't say that a lot because I am one of those people who truly believe that we are thrown obstacles to overcome regularly and that is what makes us who we are and who we become. But weeks of recovery and hardship finally led to a spiral of difficulty that was not just an obstacle, but in fact another discovery (light bulb on) that we were not looking for at all. Discoveries and realizations during these obstacles along with a feeling of helplessness that no matter what we can do in the face of this hardship we CANNOT fix or change it and have to sit somewhat on the sideline while we do what we can as we watch something painfully crumble.

So after one too many sleepless nights and anxiety, I finally reside on the couch to lose myself in a movie and go to bed. Vow to do nothing but, once the kids were all down. And so what did I pick? Bridge to Terabithia.
This reminds me of weeks such as these as a child when I would finally want some ending to the tough week when I would pick up the book and read it one more time. Because we cannot always make sense of things and the reasons for tragedies and hardships are never clear in the midst of them. And I know when it nears the end and the tears tremble uncontrollably down my face, I can just say they are for this wonderfully tragic story.

I just don't exactly say which story they are chasing.

Ecclesiastes Chapter III

I debated going to bed like I should and drinking a glass of wine and writing. Guess which won? Maybe I am more upset than I should be or maybe I am just so in denial and shock I need to write because that is what gets me going, gets me through. I'm so private and different in my shell but my writing opens me up. I guess only another writer or musician could understand exactly how that works but somehow it works for us.

One thing I really don't talk a lot about is my belief in God, my views on religion, my interpretation of the bible. Sure I will get into a good debate with anyone over anything great and speak my mind, but that's different than talking about it. So sometimes I write about it. Not so much directly, but as a writer. Which I guess is one of the things God intended or at least enabled me to do, to become.

And so, as I have done before from so many other writers, I quote:

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck
up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build
up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth?
I have seen the travail, which God hath given to the sons of men
to be exercised in it.
He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end. I know that there is no good in them, but for a man to rejoice, and to do good in his life. And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the
good of all his labour, it is the gift of God. I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that men should fear before him.
That which hath been is now; and that which is to be hath already been; and God requireth that which is past. And moreover I saw under the sun the place of judgment, that wickedness was there; and the place of righteousness, that iniquity was there. I said in mine heart, God shall judge the righteous and the wicked: for
there is a time there for every purpose and for every work. I said in mine heart concerning the estate of the sons of men, that God might manifest them, and that they might see that they themselves are beasts. For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them:
as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath; so that
a man hath no preeminence above a beast: for all is vanity. All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again. Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?
Wherefore I perceive that there is nothing better, than that a man should
rejoice in his own works; for that is his portion: for who shall bring
him to see what shall be after him?

And so I end quote.

What now, what next in our life to look upon to make us stronger to form our
being? Seems so silly to wonder why when there never is a why to the way- or so it
has always seemed to me.I believe in things we can't see. Sometimes its good things and sometimes it is not. Sometimes we only see what we want and sometimes there are things we cannot see.(side note- why can't I fucking unblock the font? Stupid smarter computer. Or did I unblock it? Hmmm... Anyway.)

I am a little angry tonight. A little pissed off. A lot sad. Even more so in shock. And I feel- get this- ashamed for having these feelings.

I had my biopsy today and things were worse than anticipated and so in one week from today I'm going to go to the hospital and have my entire cervix remove. Press Delete Here.

I feel guilty because things were worse and maybe a little on the bad side (to me at least) but not bad in comparison to the possibilities. I feel guilty because so many people have much worse news and actually have something to be sad about. I spent the earlier half of the day rejoicing and thinking "oh is that all?" In some sort of stupor, denial, drunken-off-news-state-of-being.

1. It's just pre-cancerous cells, otherwise known only as Stage 0 Cancer. Get that 0 there? 0.

2. It's just my cervix- I am thirty-one, married, and have three beautiful and perfectly healthy children. I don't need any more. Was not planning on having anymore.

3. Thank you God for giving me Little D so much sooner than anticipated. I could have missed out on such a beautiful thing if we would have waited as we were trying to. See you really do know what is best. What is to come. And why we deal with it when we do.

Which then later turned to

4. Omigodyouareremovingmywhatandwhy and how exactly does that work?

5. Um, Insurance please?

and finally

6. (Pearl Jam/Drum roll here) I'm still alive.

And I will see my children get older and wiser and bigger than me so what do I have to complain about? Take the damn thing. I don't need it anymore. If I was not trying to run, you know, a business and all and like, I didn't have three young children I would encourage you to take the other half (the Uterus) with it now instead of later.

The doctor held my hand and acknowledged this was scary and his eyes promised he would take care of me and I lightly skirted around the real subject and started asking every question but. I danced on home (well, limped a little the biopsy fucking hurt and yes it still hurts why am I sitting in this chair- eat and go to bed already). I went through my night. I eventually let things sink in and then I got slightly angry. And so the story goes and so here I am. And here I go. Off to eat. To bed. To cuddle with two or three of my offspring while I pray I sleep through the cramping and try not to think about what Monday brings. For there is a time and a purpose and I have to believe that and so I do.

This Week In History

So, it's been a week of new beginnings, inner discoveries, growth, change, and the usual hardship.


One ending leads to another beginning and again change has occurred before we even realized it. Perhaps before we accepted it, but yet it still comes.


T started Kindergarten, L moved up to to the "big girl" classroom, and tomorrow D will turn one.


I remember one year ago today. At this moment I was counting the minutes of the contractions as the regularly came after months of denial that this time was coming. After weeks of full bed-rest. After days of denial turned to joy turned to fear, the time was coming. And just like the previous two labors it was exactly thirty-seven weeks to the day and I knew this was it. I also knew I had time. I had the night.

I did not sleep at all, although I knew I should. I knew I would need the energy for the long hard labor to come- considering it would probably not be any easier than the previous two. Little did I know it would be even harder. I lied quietly on the couch, alternating between that and the rocking chair when the contractions were too tough to handle. I wanted everyone else to sleep through the night because I knew a long day waited ahead.

I had the TV on random channels because I could not focus on any one thing between the bouts of pain. The lights were off in case I was able to doze off here and there, which I was not. I cried. I cried because I knew none of my best friends would be there this time. I cried because my marriage had been in such chaos (little did I know it would get harder before it got better). Tears fell knowing this was different. Even though I had the same amount of time to prepare, I did not prepare. Money was tight. Everything I had for this baby boy was given to me out of the love and kindness of others- some who barely knew me.



The days before my mom and sister got me some small necessities like beanies and diapers and even a little blue brush in anticipation that this little gift would also come with a headfull of hair. Only one little thing was purchased by me in the entirety of the time I was pregnant. On the way to the hospital to get rehydrated one of the times I stopped at my favorite nearby boutique and bought a tiny preemie sized beanie, onesie and pants knowing this baby too would be early. Little did I know he would present himself at 7 lbs 12 oz. However, like the others he quickly lost weight and was down to 6 lbs exactly in less than a week and his "coming home outfit" was the only thing that fit just right for the first few weeks.


I was thankful my oldest daughter had started her new preschool a few days before. I was strong in my decision that my younger daughter should wait another few weeks before starting preschool for the first time so she did not associate it with the new baby coming- should he present himself early like they did (and he did). I was glad that day I took myself off bed rest to spend the day alone with her and my mom to buy her a new pair of shoes (her feet had grown) and had lunch together at our favorite pizza place. Little did I know months later I would be opening a store across the street from that same pizza place specializing in baby stuff! The surprises that are brought to us!


That night as the tears fell out of sorrow of lost friendships, strained relationships, financial hardship and fear of "would I be able to love this surprise little boy and support him?" I felt something inside me strengthen.

Things were going to change. It was not going to be smooth or easy but things had to move in a new direction and I began to gain a confidence I had not felt my entire pregnancy. I suddenly did not care if I had tiny blue socks or a co-sleeper or anything material. I realized that this was real, this baby was coming, he was a boy that I would raise to be a man to be proud of.


By three AM the contractions were starting to get to me and I got in the bath. I sat in the water until it cooled staring at my huge belly for the final time. This would be the last time I would see a bump in my belly and wonder if it was an elbow or a knee. I would never again feel the tiny kicks inside or hiccups and hold my head up proud knowing I was hard at work "growing people". I also realized soon I would not be constantly throwing up and crazier than normal.

I got out of the bath, dressed for the hospital and finished packing my bag. By five o'clock I awoke MB to get ready and my mom to come watch the kids and soon after we pulled out of the dark driveway listening to the Mikey show and arrived at the hospital for them to confirm "yes she's back and yes this time doctor said go ahead and get her an epidural- the baby is not waiting any longer".

Twelve hours later I was just getting to nine centimeters. Exhausted and in pain beyond words, I felt the shivers of transition begin. Sometime after nine that night, after hours of pushing and a special crew of delivery staff awaiting because of the complications, a tiny, squirmy baby boy was vacuumed out of me elbow first, head up after too many hours of labor and only two or so hours of pushing. I still don't think my pelvic bone ever healed.

As the morphine needle was pushed into my IV, I held my baby boy for the first time and knew I loved him before I ever accepted how much I loved him. Immediately he took to my breast and snuggled in for a meal. He has been the perfect baby ever since. After two wild girls who had their own agenda, this baby fell right into our crazy routine and made his place in our family immediately. He'll always be the most special surprise I have ever had and when he giggles with his beautiful sisters I know I am doing something right in the world.

Tomorrow we will celebrate the year we have had together with him, but only I alone will celebrate the year and thirty-seven weeks we have shared together.

I feel different emotions as I proudly walk my five-year-old daughter to her Kindergarten classroom. She clings to me as if she wants me there but I know after I leave she is confident and strong because I raised her to be. I never let her see the tears fall down my face as I got her bag ready for the first day of school and carefully lay out the outfit the night before. I held on to something special for months so she would have it for the first day no matter how tight money would be (little did I know how tight it would get!). I wonder how many moms are walking away each morning this week feeling a little loss, yet a little proud, just like me? I know some are not as emotional; I know some are.

I raised her to be proud and strong and confident. To speak without fear (although now we have to work on the back-talk as a result). She sings and learns and is brilliant like her parents which scares the shit out of me. I know ignorance is bliss and was always jealous of those less "there". Yes I sound like a stuck-up bitch saying that but you know its true so shove it! We will battle throughout our life. Our agreements and disagreements will be bountiful. One day she'll have her first kiss, her first love and her first heartbreak and I will be there for all of them.

She is the reason I made it this far as she is my firstborn. She came out hand first, head-up and she is always reaching out in need of something I hope I can help her find. I won't give her what she wants. but instead give her the skills she needs to do it herself and she will.

L.

L is my little girl/big girl. Sometimes she too forgets which she is. At three she attempts to conquer the world, while still attempting to retain some sort of "baby" behavior. She has no fear. She sings, dances, falls and jumps right up. Smiling and excited she just as quickly will scream and fall to the ground kicking.

As the middle child, there is always a special place for her. I love them all equally but different. Their ages and personalities enforce that. She will never be left out. Never be forgotten in a crowd or left behind in a group or not heard when speaking. She is also strong. I know both girls inside like myself sometimes have a doubt about what is right and what is wrong but they always persevere and survive and I love them for that.

Her blue eyes pierce right through my heart, and her tiny curls are just beginning to form so much later than her siblings. But she is different and proud and artistic. She dances to music she can hear wherever she goes. She does not give a damn what anyone thinks, nor should she. At times she is quiet and snugly and then quickly reminds you of her fiestiness at the first chance she gets. Her imagination is strong and her will stronger. She was born with the cord around her neck and she fought that off too.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lVam-fshUgw

Listen. And not to forget D. He is the original start of this posting. The song may be about daughters but think about your little ones in general and it fits them all. Listen. Listen again. And then hear the song.

There is something about this post about my three babies on the eve of the youngest turning one (technically twenty-three more hours but we will celebrate in less than twelve) that helps take my mind of the other things that matter in my life so much right now.

I have so much fear and anxiety and confusion. I am being open and honest and guess what? I will be okay for doing so. I disappear sometimes. So what? I don't always talk about what is really wrong. And? Sometimes I talk and talk about me. Sometimes it is important and sometimes it is just chatter to avoid what I really need to talk about. The point being? I am just me.

I had my babies and intended to stay home and raise them and be "my kid's mom". But things have happened and changed and I am not home twenty-four hours a day for them like SO MANY other moms. Some don't care but I know a lot of them, like me do. They want to be there for it all but they cannot be there for it all and take care of them. All of our choices, decisions and actions have consequences and we just do the best we can. Yeah, being a working mom SUCKS even if you absolutely love what you do and are fabulous at it (oh and I am fabulous at it)- you are not a full-time "mom". But it is what you have to do to do- the BEST for your kids- and you have to what is BEST for them no matter how it feels for you.

I have to be strong. Independent eventually. Teach my children what has been taught me and more. They too will teach me. No matter how successful I become (and dammit I hope I become successful in my business also) I will always be MOM first. And I'd like to be a damn good wife too if circumstances are right. And fuck after all this I hope it is right because I am giving it my all.

We have to sometimes do it all and still be good at it all. We don't always have the choice. For those of you out there that have a choice, I hope you choose to raise your babies yourself. And for those of you who don't- I hope you gain the confidence I am trying to find and realize by doing what you are doing you are being the BEST MOM and it is okay. It is different and sometimes it does suck when you miss out on things but never let your children suffer because you think its better to be with them than to take care of them however you have too. It hurts me, it pains me every time I walk out that door. But I took every step in ensuring the love they get when they are away from me is the next best thing to my love and I know they won't resent me for this after they get used to it. When they are adults they will understand I did what I had to do to ensure our stability and THAT IS WHAT IS BEST FOR THEM.

I believe in God and I believe no matter how angry I get, he would never give me more than I could handle. So he's raining it down on me. Shit it is pouring in every direction of my life and those around me. I am going to get something out of this. These experiences can only make me stronger because I am not letting them break me down. I might not want to talk about them but I will not let them get me.

I am surrounded by light and friends and love and family even in the ugliest of times and there must be lessons learned and lessons taught and I will make it through another week in my history. And that is the story for tonight.

Answers to a Prayer

Mr. God,
Me instead?
Thank you.
No seriously- no sarcasm.
I'm young and tough
and it does not scare me.
This is simple and early
and will be taken care of.
Thank you for putting it
somewhere else.
I CAN like so many other woman
Beat the odds.
Leave my daddy, my family alone.
I'm a fighter
damnit
and I can do it.
Thank you.

Mom, Dad

Mom, Dad- I'm Sorry.

I'm not supposed to be where I am.

Mom, Dad- I'm Sorry.

I snuggle my baby boy

My breast no longer nourishes him

I feed him his milk from a cup

He's full now but is that enough?

Mom, Dad- I'm Sorry.

I cannot make it on my own.

Mom, Dad- I'm Sorry.

You raised me right,

You did your best.

What happens next

We can only guess.

My daughter cries

In the middle of the night.

I pick her up,

I hold her tight.

She throws up

And I clean up.

Mom, Dad- I'm sorry.

My life is in distress

And I am a mess

Does it hurt you

I can only guess?

I told you news

Maybe I should have kept to myself.

Words like these seem so final

But I promise you guys

I will take care of us.

Mom, Dad- I'm sorry.

I need your help

Can't do this alone

The word is scary

and my life is hairy

I thought I had it all taken care of

But I know now

I am not where I am

Supposed to be

No don't whoas me!

Mom, Dad- I'm sorry.

I'll take care of this I promise.

Three babies depend on me and

You raised me to be a strong woman

That I'll be

I'll give back to you

What else can I promise you?

Oh, no.

Words.

Words are just words.

But for real.

Mom, Dad- I'm sorry.

Stage 0 isn't the end

I'm so lucky I still have friends

They will be there

Even if it is not fair

to them.

It'll all be over soon

I'll be back to my old moon.

Mom, Dad- I'm sorry.

Thirty-One and three kids later.

I should be better able

But I'm not and I have done my best

What happens next

Is only a guess.

Mom, Dad- Thank you.

Baby cries

I might sigh

It might sound mean

When I scream

I am only doing the best I can

With what I have

My three babies mean the world

For them I have taken more than I probably should

I want to be

a family

I want to be

free

My apron strings are loosening.

I told him all these things.

My little girl wakes up again.

I put her back to sleep once more.

I look back and then

Realize all the shut doors.

Mom, Dad- I'm sorry.

I am doing my best this time to do it right.

Won't give up without a fight.

You know I'm strong.

Never meant to do you wrong.

I could leave and do this on my own.

But you are my world and my home.

And so until you say

Otherwise

I'll be here

Surprise

Doing my best

No matter what others think

Mom, Dad- I'm sorry.

I hope I did not disappoint you.

I hope you are proud of me.

The things I do.

I hope you see.

But still.

Sometimes I think I should be more

and standing tough

On my own floor

and for that I say

Mom, Dad- I'm sorry.

I love you both

Hang in there tight.

We love you with all our might.

This isn't a silly rhyme to me

But something from reality.

Wish I was more than I am

But who you made me

DAMN

I know how proud, how you see

But for everything still,

Mom, Dad- I'm sorry.

Give me time

I'll make it right.

Eventually I will shine

Brighter than the moonlight.

Final Thought

Baa Baa Black Sheep Have You Any Wool?

Yes Ma'am, Yes Ma'am, Three Bags Full.


Is that what is over my eyes?

Heart

Come on and take a, take another little piece of my heart now baby
You know you got it,
Shit,
Cause it makes you feel good

Janis Joplin

Do you think that when a little part of you dies, your heart gets harder or softer?

Night Falls Fast

Night Falls Fast, yes it does Mrs. Jamison.

But dawn sometimes falls faster.

My stomach rumbles. My heart rattles. You all said you would be here with me, yet I am eerily alone.

Crickets twirp in the red sky that is supossed to be a black blanket to keep us cozy.

I sigh. There is no one awake to hear me. Shhhh. Don't wake them.

Everything is changing. Moving so fast. My mind spins. You call me crazy. You don't remember me crazy. None of you even know me anymore.

False accusations and cruel words. Are your intentions such or is life just that fucked up right now? The sickness. The pain. Yet we go on.

I come from a line of strong women and I too, am a strong woman. But sometimes, I cry. I cry until I shake. I used to turn down the lights as if that would make it less real and the next day I would say "I feel better after my good laugh" because I DID NOT CRY. But now I admit it, I cry. And you know what? I don't really feel any better.

Who is the final judge and why does everyone think they have the "in" on him? Who is to say what is right or wrong? What happened to support? Those closest to me have failed me in that way. Betrayed me with their put downs. Have I put you all down in some way without knowing? Have I disappointed you with my family and my dreams? Supporting your dreams was always a priority but I feel stepped on lately. Locked out of my own life.

My three year old screams in Terror. MOMMY. She shakes and cries and I hold her until she is calm. She can even feel my agnst tonight. I have failed her.

I want this dream, this store, this new life. I long for my old one where I had more time for boo boos and kisses and I cry again just thinking about it. We cannot have it all. I have always known that.

So many changes. So many mistakes and ambitions and failures. What is right and what is wrong and what happened to just being at someone's side through it all?

I have raised three kids alone and started a business in the last seven months all while my heart was breaking with so many, so many things. Am I that bad of a person? Do you guys really feel that way or are you just treating me that way because you don't want to look at your own life and disappointments?

One more question, Mr. God

So, I thank you. You answered my prayers and it is not the big C. That stupid doctor should have kept his mouth shut. He had no right to diagnose something like that from just an MRI when he is a back doctor. Not an oncologist.

And I thank all of you that have prayed.

But, God? One more question?

He is not doing well. When the Patriarch of such a large extended family is down, everyone kind of collapses beneath. Sure we work harder to compensate but our spirits are broken because his is.

What can I do God? That's my question. What can I, little me, do?

Dear God

Dear God,

We do not always agree you and I but I think we have a decent repertoire. Okay, so sometimes I yell at you and get angry. But I'm only human. And I don't ask for much. At least not material things. I pray for health and comfort and survival tactics. I have been poor and barely able to feed my kids for over a year and a half and I have not asked for things. Just survival.

I have not used a credit card in over two years. I almost lost my house, my husband, and more. But I did not ask you for any special favors.

I am asking you now.

You need to inform the doctors that they have made a GRAVE error. It is not CANCER. The mass is just due to the childhood tuberculosis and it can be taken care of and everything is okay.

My daddy will watch my children grow up. He will be at their college graduations and their weddings. This will bring joy to all of our lives.

You do not need him. Cancer does not need him. We do however and this is my request and prayer to you. Please fix this and make it okay. I will not give up. I take whatever you throw my way and live with the assumption it will make me stronger. But I will not lose my dad. Not now. No, not now.

My positive thinking will radiate around him tomorrow when he returns to the doctor and everything is going to be okay. Right God? You can do this favor for me, can't you? Whatever you need from me, whatever I can do to be a better person you can have.

You gave me three wonderful, beautiful (inside and out) children but this is not a barter. You cannot take my dad in return. Tell the doctors it was just an error and there is no cancer and I'll owe you big time.

Please God. I just want happiness and health for all those around me. I don't need meaningless shit, I need my family. He is my world and sunshine even at his most difficult. I am the closest to him and him to me and after all he has done for others in his lifetime please give him the chance to do more.

Give us all the chance.

Dear God, I pray to you. Please hear my prayers. Amen.

Top Ten Reasons Life is like a load of laundry

Life and Laundry have a lot in common.

1. It's never ending
2. Some stains come out and some leave their marks forever as reminders
3. No matter how often we work on it, there is always more to do
4. Washing it is easier than putting it away
5. It doesn't always fit right on a hanger and so it gets shoved in a drawer. In the back.
6. Again, there is always more to do even when you think you are finished.
7. It is impossible to put it all away all the time
8. It can be heavy at times and light at others
9. Everyone uses a different method, detergent, etc. yet the goal is the same.
10. It can be both euphoric and depressing simultaneously

My Mama Said

Mama said there would be days like this, there would be days like this my Mama said.

Shirelles

The uncertainty of each day is both what keeps us going and what keeps us from wanting to go. Swirling confusion can get in the way if we let it. People try and knock us down with their negativity and disrespect.

GOOD BYE

While others are Angels in our lives, guiding us and cheering us on. Believing in what we believe whether or not we are wearing our masks.

Each new day brings on new complications and new things to be proud of. It is so true that we learn something new every day. Sometimes it is good and sometimes it is not, but we do learn it if we open our eyes.

We cannot let the things that are bad get in the way of our dreams and our family. Washing the blood off someone elses hands (literally) brings us up to another level of being. In the next moment we can get brought down by ugly words. Don't let it get to you. Don't let it be a fallen tree in your path you cannot cross.

If something is in the way,

walk around it

jump over it

swim through it

plunge ahead

but never, never stop.

It is life's uncertainties of circumstance that makes us who we are. Every day we live a life only we can control. Even the things we cannot control, we control how we react even when we feel out of control.

Every night, the kids and I say the Serenity Prayer.

Dear God,

Please Grant Us the Serenity to Accept the Things we Cannot Change

The Courage to Change the Things we Can

And the Wisdom to Know the Difference

and we add in our blessings, thanks, or other prayers followed by our AMEN.

There is something out there that is bigger than all of us. Let's embrace it and hold our heads high even when our hearts are heavy for our hearts will not be heavy every day and we should give our thanks for each and every lesson and hardship so we become stronger, better human beings.

And we will succeed.

Call me crazy, but I never doubted for one minute that I would not succeed and look what is happening in spite of all the hardships I have endured- especially those in the past two years exactly.

There is days like this but there are also days like that.

Like I said, if God wanted us - he would have taken us by now. We must have some other purpose because damn it he won't let us go with him. Let's grab the here and now. Its hard sometimes, its easy others but its always there for the grabbing.

Sometimes I do want to go where everybody knows my name and sometimes I don't. I loved more than anything being a wife and a mother and staying home with my kids. I have to move to something new that also works. I can still be a wife and a mother and be good at all three if I want to.

It is all about me and that's alright.

Death Be Not Proud

Death Be Not Proud: John Donne

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so:

For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow

Die not, poor Death; not yet canst thou kill me.

From Rest and Sleep, which but thy picture be,

Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow;

And soonest our best men with thee do go-

Rest of their bones and souls' delivery!

Thou'rt slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,

And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;

And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well

And better than thy stroke. Why swell'st thou then?

One short sleep past, we wake eternally,

And Death shall be no more: Death, thou shalt die!

V: Elegy: Edna St. Vincent Millay

Let them bury your big eyes

In the secret earth securly,

Your thin fingers, and your fair,

Soft, indefinite-couloured hair,-

All of these in some way, surely,

From the secret earth shall rise;

Not for these I sit and stare,

Broken and bereft completely:

Your young flesh that sat so neatly

On your little bones will sweetly

Blossom in the air.

But your voice . . . never the rushing

Of a river underground,

Not the rising of the wind

In the tress before the rain,

Not the woodcock's watery call,

Not the note the white-throat utters,

Not the feet of children pushing

Yellow leaves along the gutters

In the blue and bitter fall,

Shall content my musing mind

For the beauty of that sound

That in no new way at all

Never will be heard again.

Sweetly through the sappy stalk

Of the vigourous weed,

Holding all it held before,

Cherished by the faithful sun,

On and on eternally

Shall your altered fluid run,

Bud and bloom and go to seed:

But your singing days are done;

But the music of your talk;

Never shall the chemistry

Of the secret earth restore.

All your lovely words are spoken.

Once the ivory box is broken,

Beats the golden bird no more.

XVI: Edna St. Vincent Millay

The doctor asked her what she wanted done

With him, that could not lie there many days.

And she was shocked to see how life goes on

Even after death, in irritating ways;

And mused how if he had not died at all

'Twould have been easier-then there need not be

The stiff disorder of a funeral

Everywhere, and the hideous industry,

And crowds of people calling her by name

And questioning her, she'd never seen before,

But only watching by his bed once more

And sitting silent if a knocking came . . .

She said at length, feeling the doctor's eyes,

"I don't know what you do exactly when a person dies."

Because I Could Not Stop for Death: Emily Dickinson

Because I could not stop for Death,

He kindly stopped for me;

The carriage held but just ourselves

And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,

And I had put away

My labor, and my leisure too,

For his civility.

We passed the school where the children played,

Their lessons scarcely done;

We passed the fields of gazing grain,

We passed the setting sun.

We paused before a house that seemed

A swelling of the ground;

The roof was scarcely visible,

The cornice but a mound.

Since then 't is centuries; but each

Feels shorter than the day

I first surmised the horses' heads

Were toward eternity.

O Captain! My Captain!: Walt Whitman

1

O captain! my captain! our fearful trip is done;

The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting

While follow eyes the steady kneel, the vessel grim and daring:

But O Heart! heart! heart!

Leave you not the little spot,

Where on the deck my captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

2

O captain! my captain! rise up and hear the bells:

Rise up- for you the flag is flung- for you the bugle trills;

For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths- for you the shores a crowding:

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

O captain! dear father!

This arm I push beneath you;

It is some dream that on the deck,

You've fallen cold and dead.

3
My captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will:

But the ship, the ship is anchor'd safe, its voyage closed and done;

From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won:

Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

But I, with silent tread,

Walk the spot my captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

It is What We Make of It, Right?

So, writing tonight in my other journal I couldn't stop the following from running through my mind.

Featuring...... Robert Frost!

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

That was the first poem I memorized, you know? The first real adult one anyway. I guess I was probably 9 or 10 or some weird age where I should not be so into Robert Frost, but I was and I memorized it and I remember reading it out loud to the class, by memory for some reason. And being proud. The second was a much sadder one that I had memorized. I must have been a little older- closer to 11 or so when the first darkness began. I think of this to tonight. She was of course manic depressive and therefore impressive...

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Dirge Without Music

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.

So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:

Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned

With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.

Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.

A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,

A formula, a phrase remains,- but the best is lost.

The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,-

They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled

Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.

More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave

Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;

Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.

I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

And so that's all for tonight. Later.

I cannot stand those who do not take control for their own actions. It is unhealthy to justify one's actions and anger by blaming others. Putting another person down and/or name calling is not adult behavior and should not be tolerated by anyone.

Life is short. It can be good. We have that right. And damnit, I deserve it because I give it.

I go to take a sip of my Sauvingnon Blanc and notice the blood still on my hands through the glass. I have to take a few sips before I can wash it off. The lime scented soap smells old and unattractive and I wish I could buy more. Instead I added water and cheap soap to try and find the right combination that can only be bought in a store that I can no longer afford to shop in.

I really can no longer afford to shop. But I have a warm bed and loving people surrounding me and stuff really is just stuff. I have my books. Someday I will even get around to reading them all again and indulging in new ones. My children will grow older and time will be found and I will be lost without them and long for the days when they were younger and times were harder.

Clutter surrounds me inside this home that I have known for the past ten years. Ten years of cleaning leading to ten years of accumulating and I look. I look and I wonder how it started and how to start fixing it. I wonder when. I know how. I do not have to wonder how to fix the clutter.

I wonder how do good people get cancer and brain tumors and bad people go on and on? I wonder why the bodies autoimmune system sucks one persons body and leaves another alone? I wonder a lot of things. A lot of things I don't wonder I know. Or I just don't fucking care.

He said he needed help. They both said they need help and they want help but I have heard so much from them I do not believe they will get help. I am not there yet. They have given me no reason to. They disappoint me and scare me and take care of me all at the same time. They are frustrated by me and annoyed and then love me more than anything in the world. I hold on to what I can and am learning to let go of what I must. I try and let less tears fall.

The less crying makes me wonder if I am growing. Growing up? Growing numb? Or going back? Far to the place I once was for many years... The place where things like this didn't touch me and love was a notion for fools.

I dread the morning chaos that is to be tomorrow. I long for a night to numb the pain and pass out only to awaken on my own terms to do what I want with the day. I spent weeks on bedrest agonizing and crying, frustrated. We humans make no sense.

I want to stay up late and dance alone to music with my curtains open and not care. I want to sing loud and not awaken anyone. I long to be tired and curl up in my big bed with all of my kids early and stay there all night. I am conflicted and confused and confident all at the same time. I try and fill my mind with trivial thoughts such as what I might wear tomorrow and will I be on time to anything and what will I actually get done?

My other mind is screaming questions that have meaning and purpose if only at the moment or for the moment. Will this work out? Will he grow up? Did The Other One stop bleeding? Will there be hospital visits and work for me? Who will pick the kids up from school tomorrow? Is it necessary to have such expensive parking when those of us using it are obviously not in good situations? Do I have time to get to the store? Will blue-eyes continue having night terrors? Is the baby constipated? And do I still have thrush?

Are my best friends okay or just pretending to be? Do we all wear the mask and wear it well? Is happiness a real feeling? Does it only last seconds or just to those of us prone to our moods? Who loves me and who is sick of me? Who calls me out of duty or curiosity and who calls because they want to? Why does going to the dentist cost so much money?

I wonder if I make sense to you. I care and I don't. I'm passionate and curious and intelligent. I feel forgetful and stupid like I have got this all wrong. I wonder if I am a bother and I wonder if I even care. Some of my doors are open and some are closed. Once they were all closed. Am I making progress or just going through the motions?

I came home the other day, both overwhelmed and frustrated. I am trying not to smoke, not buying cigarettes. I broke down sobbing over something I don't even remember. Maybe its because it is late or maybe because it is something that did not really matter. I weeded the area around the trash cans with my bare hands. I broke all my nails and put sores on my fingertips. I cried hysterically as I pulled the greenery from the soft soil. My tears slowed as I finished and I felt accomplished. The physical pain was trivial in comparison. I write and I think back. This happened two days ago and I do not remember why I was so hysterical. I came back into the house and the baby was crying.

My husband was here for his visitation and I did not leave a bottle. I was scatterbrained and upset. My head hurt from the tears. He came an hour earlier than expected but it was suddenly over an hour later.

I talked briefly to an old friend. She said good-bye to me for an entire four years after over twenty-something years of friendship and then she appeared again at a time when I hope we can both do each other good and help one another through times like these. I hung up the phone, baby at my breast and proceeded to sleep for an entire two hours.

Except, I had horrible nightmare-ish lucid dreams which I attributed to a conversation with one of my best friends the night before. I could not awaken and I knew I needed too. I cried in my dream and I eventually woke up crying. Although visitation hours were to be over by the time I crawled out of bed, he held me while I cried and left me alone to shower and find myself while he put the kids to bed for me as I was in no shape to do so. Why weren't things like this before?

I believe in it all at one moment and the next I laugh at the promises and believe them to be just a farce to win back the life we once had. I don't know what to believe mostly. I miss talking to my trusted therapist. My longest relationship ever with one therapist. Over four years and considering I have been in therapy sixteen years I am amazed. And then the new insurance comes and laughs and doesn't want to pay. I cannot pay out of pocket. She says to come anyway. I can't. Or at least I have not yet. I see another one on the side, like a cheater. Its not the same. It won't ever be the same again in a lot of ways.

This story began with the blood that needed to be washed off. I worry. I picture in my head the bleeding and I argue once again with God. We have that sort of relationship. I feel if he is going to come back into my life, we should be able to talk however. I mentioned that in my last meeting with my favorite Deacon and he agreed. If we can't disagree with God, than what sort of relationship do we really have with him? I think I need the Deacon now. I wish I could go to Mother's Group tomorrow.

But tomorrow is school drop-off and domestic violence therapy. Its Family Justice Court and Famiy Court Mediation. Its finding my way around a downtown I once was totally confused and afraid of but now walk around confident. I am no better; I am no worse. No one can take anything from me because I have nothing to give them in that way.

My mind drifts. I want the baby to have his own room and my little girl to have a big girl bed. I want the remodel finished. And then I feel foolish and selfish because no truck went through my house. Because my kids are healthy (for kids and all...) and wise and beautiful. I know beautiful people with beautiful families. I am so lucky in so many ways. Sure I complain and bitch but I know how things really are. I never forget and I never look over.

Good Night.

From the mouth of Babes

"How did Donovan learn how to blow- what did you call it again mom? Peachberries?"

Tifffany

Quote of the Day

Fred Allen - "I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me."

On Parenting

So, it took me over ten minutes of bawling my eyes out (I am sensitive lately and haven't been sleeping so maybe that's why, maybe I was just moved) to figure out where to place this journal entry. Is this something for here, a story? Or me talking, for my LJ? I decided since there is a moral I'll talk about it here.

I was coming home from the store, listening to Dr. Laura as usual during the time frame of 12 and 3. I was debating whether to take my sick kids on more errands while they slept in the car and hoped I didn't fall asleep at the wheel, to go home and shower and relax do some laundry, or more work stuff. Then the commercial ended and Dr. Laura read a letter that related to a caller yesterday that I did not hear. The story moved me in such a way I had to run to my computer and write.

As soon as I figured out where anyway.

So, Dr. Laura has a new book I want to read (along with how many other books on my list right?) "Stop Whining, Start Living" and she said this letter summed it up nicely. So I turned the radio up and listened.

The short version of the story is about a lady who found out early in her pregancy her baby had something wrong and would not be able to live. The baby could die any day or even be born and live for a few days to weeks but no longer. The lady and her husband decided to keep the pregnancy regardless.

She named the baby.

Got ultrasounds and watched the little one grow.

She wore her maternity clothes and talked about her little boy.

Even had some layette clothing just in case I assume.

Each day she ate well and acted, well, pregnant.

She didn't do what I would have, which is for sure suck up some strong anti-psychotics, valium, alcohol or any other pain numbers. How about some cigarettes? Hey, my first baby is DYING!!!

Nope, knowing NO MATTER WHAT SHE DID this baby would die, she went through her whole pregnancy just like the rest of us doing the things she was supposed to and talking about her baby and bonding.

Her little boy was born and on his one week birthday they celebrated with a cake. On his three week birthday he passed away. I got from the letter she now has a beautiful healthy little girl.

I know of three other people who lost their babies in utero. No heartbeat at some point in the third trimester. Not exactly like this story but similar in that they labored and delivered a known stillborn baby that they went on to name, take a picture of, and mourn. I know at least two of them were followed by normal healthy pregnancies and the other one I think had twins after (she was a friend of a friend and I don't remember all the details but there was a baby after).

My cousin had her third baby boy and just after birth found out he was dying. He only made it eight hours. She too eventually went on and had a fourth, healthy as could be, boy.

We think we are going through so much and we ask why. Why me? Why now? What am I going to learn from this? Why do I want or need to be any damn stronger? God is tricky, right?

Losing ourself is bad and hard and wrong and we need to do what we can to make things right.

But, sometimes, we lose our children and there is absolutely NOTHING we could have done differently.

Somedays we need to reflect on our life and see if we are doing everything selflessly for our children. And that is parenting. That does mean taking care of ourselves, I am not discounting that in anyway. But sometimes it is easy to look at our wants and needs and what makes us feel good. We have to remember that they depend on us in every single way. They couldn't survive without us for the most part. And if things are not going according to plan, we don't flush them away.

Gotta get it all out NOW

Words and Lyrics by Elton John

Blue jean baby,
l.A lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now shes in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand
Jesus freaks out in the street
Handing tickets out for god
Turning back she just laughs
The boulevard is not that bad
Piano man he makes his stand
In the auditorium
Looking on she sings the songs
The words she knows, the tune she hums
But oh how it feels so real
Lying here with no one near
Only you and you can hear me
When I say softly, slowly
Hold me closer tiny dancer
Count the headlights on the highway
Lay me down in sheets of linen
You had a busy day today
Blue jean baby,
l.A lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile, youll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now shes in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand

Tiny Dancer, Elton John

'The words she knows the tune she hums"



Can't get it out of my head.

And She Was

They told me she was fucking crazy.

Off the hook. I didn't really believe them though because I do not really think they even know what crazy is. She needed help. A lot of help. People here, people there and I needed to be strong during all this. I was tired of people telling me things. Yet I kept asking.

I walked there. It was cold. The sun was out earlier but the cold ripped through me, making me want to walk faster but never warming up. It made my nose run and my lips chap. After a sniffle and reapplication of my Laura Mercier Lip Gloss Glace I felt almost a little better. I buttoned up my jacket and kept walking.

Maybe I should have worn socks like he told me to.

But I didn't want to wear fucking socks. I hate socks. I don't wear them unless its early morning and the wood floors beg my Karen Kane fuzzy socks to call my name. Otherwise, I just have a drawer full that I use to take up space so I have an excuse for more clutter or something.

I think I left the kids at home with a sitter. I rarely did that and it seemed very unreal. What if I didn't? What if I just left them home? What if I didn't even really have kids? Or what if the sitter was an incompetent shit? Or abused the kids? OR what if it went well and everyone had a good time? I knew nothing about that.

Why didn't I drive my car?

I think I was drinking. White wine. Australian with a bite? Or old fashioned Chardonnay? Maybe I had a little of both. I was getting very confused. I pulled my jacket tighter in the wind.

They told me she was totally crazy.

I really wish I had straightened my hair. My hair was frizzing in an unusual way due to the weather. The kind of hair that looks great peeking out from under my beanie, all wild and curly but just looked funny and poofy when I took the hat off. I closed my eyes for a minute and felt like I was back home. Things spun a little and I felt pale.

I opened my eyes and looked around. Where the hell was I going again? I think I need my car. Heater, defroster, you know.... seats. Maybe I would go back. I started to turn around.

I was still in my driveway.

Something was not quite right but I couldn't put my finger on it. Maybe it was the chill. I needed something from the house but did not want to disturb the little ones inside. Or the sitter.

Did I have a sitter?

I think I did. I think I knew her from somewhere in the past. An old teacher walks by with his dog and I notice his familiarity after a few minutes of talking about dogs and children and the Ranch. He remembered me too with a laugh.

"Trouble! Hope I wasn't too hard on you! Good to see you turned out well."

I looked around. Me? I nodded and smiled and made some more short conversations before saying good-bye. Turned out well? If he only knew.

I dream at night. I dream about kissing and hockey sticks and getting lost in my own backyard. I wake up sweating. Crying. Confused.

But right now I was cold. Too cold for the weather here. Something was wrong. Springtime was here. Maybe it was going to rain. That's it. Explains the pains in my legs. Oh how they ached. Especially when it rained. Or maybe it was from the walk. No, I don't think I got very far. God things fucking hurt. Why was that?

SUCK IT UP.

Keep going. Okay- car, walk? I had some sort of keys in the pocket of my new but used jacket. It was warm but thin and worn. But the kind that never went out of style. And it fit me like a glove and asked for compliments when worn out. Looooved it.

Crazy is as crazy does.

Do I know her?

I got into the car, turned on the heater and wished it was in my garage. Vvvroom Vvvroom. I love loud engines, big cars and Fords. I popped a pill. Maybe if I put my head back for a minute and rested... No, not in the car. "Normal" people don't do that. Okay. Hands on the wheel.

I totally forgot where I was going.

At first. Then I remembered. I got out of the car, which was still cold anyway, walked into the garage and shut the door hoping it wasn't as loud as it sounded in my head. I sat on the floor. It was dirty. About a glass of wine remained in the bottle and I drank it. Followed by a cool bottle of water. Things were becoming clearer.

I went inside quietly and put on my prettiest pair of pajamas. I weighed myself. Almost, I thought, almost. I threw on my un-sexiest robe made from the same material as baby blankets along with my cool socks. Okay, at least my nightgown was pretty. I took off my hat and convinced my hair to get into a ponytail.

I broke out a big dish of cookies and cream ice cream and another bottle of water. I watched some meaningless TV and tried to forget about what was going on.

But I could not.

I finished my ice cream, took another pill and got into my cool bed with lots of blankets. No one was there yet. They told me she was totally crazy but they didn't even know her. I can't remember if I met her tonight. It seemed like a sick memory that made my stomach turn in the way you aren't sure if you need to get up and run or roll on your other side and pray.

Pray.

I pray a lot lately. I started praying a lot a little over a year ago. Sometimes I don't pray. Sometimes I yell at God. I get mad at him. Sure I thank him every day for this and that and the kids and I say our Serenity Prayer at night. But after that and when I am alone I talk to him and it is not always nice.

Make me understand. I want to see more. I want to know more. What am I supposed to be learning? And what was your point here? I'm angry at you God. I'm angry at me and life and being confused.

They told me she was crazy but they didn't know the first thing about her.