It took me a couple days to get back in the groove after spewing up all the mommy angst I sometimes suffer here in Toddlerland.

We're better now. I wanted to get out some just general info about our week before the coming one takes over my thoughts and blog. Despite my mid week pity party it was actually a very productive time for me. I got all of the closets sorted, cleaned and rearranged. I not only vaccumed all the floorboards in our entryway, I also vacuumed the door sills, closet slats and under the refrigerator.

Emmy -5 Other Girls Who Don't Care About Those Things - 0

I'm almost done with spring cleaning!! I only have one cupboard left in the kitchen and the laundry room. I'm going to try and finish up this week, but its a wonderful feeling to have gotten this far.

I went for a walk around the apt. complex with Charlie and Ellis. We also went down and played in the pool for an hour or so yesterday. That's 2! days of exercise, plus all the extra work of the closets. That definitely is more than I did last week and I'm sure Paul McKenna would be proud. Now the trick is to do more this coming week than I did last week and so on and so forth until I meet my goals. Maybe this week I'll try to actually make it to the gym.



I finally made that orange cake for Mikey. It was his birthday cake (oct. 31) and for some reason its just been sitting in our pantry. I prepared it like you would strawberry shortcake, but with orange cake, orange supremes, and real whipped cream (hand whipped ala Charlie). It was supposed to be for wine night Friday but Patricia wasn't feeling well so we did a home delivery yesterday. It was delicious!!

The a/c is now fixed. Alex said (through an interesting mix of English, Spanish and sign language) that it was getting warmer and since we live on the 3rd floor it will be more of a challenge to keep it cool in here. He also changed the filter and stressed the importance of doing this on a regular basis. He then filled the inside a/c unit with coolant and I tried not to have a panic attack about the possible chemicals being released into the air. He reassured me that I'm not a bother and to call whenever I needed something. Thank goodness for the good nature of this man & thank you Alex!

We actually did the grocery shopping on Saturday. Normally we put off the shopping and then end up eating out. I'm so proud of us for setting ourselves up to succeed this week!

We didn't fall in love and obsess this week as I predicted. I think that it's partially due to the fact I didn't read the paper and when we went for our Sunday drive it was to an area we love (the Galleria) but have no real desire to live in again. However I now have two weeks of paper to look at, so we'll see what the week brings.

I'm making it my mission to try and do my a.m. yoga and practice waking up earlier this week. I am inspired by Dawn's morning routine and will try to formulate one in the coming weeks. The important part is to feed those things that make me feel good about myself and the world I live in.

I'm buying my first stocks this week! I'm excited and nervous as hell. I'm investing part of my allowance so it's not going to make me millions (for a while yet) but the possibility is as thrilling as delightful. I did a lot of research and found some wonderful earth friendly companies to buy. I'll keep you updated. It makes me feel like an actual grownup, lol. Now onto researching the 401k plan, good stuff.

Charlie had a rough week. He had to fire his first person, someone whom he truly liked but just didn't meet performance standards. I feel like he made the right choice, but don't know how to ease his troubled mind. I have perfect faith that the young man's life is going the way it's supposed to, but how do you translate that to a guilty conscience that would rival any Jewish or Catholic's?

Charlie also found out his Grandmother has 3wks left to live. (not too along ago it was 3mo) I'm also trying to help him find peace with this heartache.

Above: My stoic guy at the Houston Children's Festival 4/5/08. Pre-haircut.

Ellis is feeling much better. He loved the swimming pool yesterday! Kevin took him in the wading pool 2ft and he paddled around, it was adorable. The other night I was laying in bed and listening to him breathe through the baby monitor. The soft whir whir whir of the ceiling fan in his room made it sound like his heart beat through the ultrasound. I got all sappy and nostalgic remembering that it was just a short time ago I was looking over at the u/s machine watching his little heart beat fluttering away. Yesterday I sneezed and he whispered 'bless you' to me. I was floored, this little guy who hardly says anything (in our language) chose to say such a wonderful words. I am continually blessed just by having him in my life. He's also been very affectionate these last few days. My love banks are filled with toddler smooches and hugs and blessings.

Now we're all caught up for the week. Whew!

Often I find myself questioning the matter of fate vs. destiny and signs vs. omens. Although I know there are in fact no concrete answers due to the highly subjective topic I like to let my mind wander down the paths surrounding it. Here are my latest musings on the matter:

A purely hypothetical scenario with the following players:

A beautiful damsel: we'll call her Lysandra
Her first love: Man A
Her true love: Man B
Matt Damon: Matt

We all have those moments when we look back at a relationship that has failed and remember some small detail thinking "I should have known then it wasn't going to work."

For Lysandra remembering back to Man A it was the fact that he was enamored with Matt Damon. Indeed he considered himself to possess many of the same characteristics as Matt. He asked her one day quite earnestly if she preferred Matt or Ben, having no use at the time for Matt & not knowing Man A's attachment she replied emphatically "Ben". (SIGN or OMEN?) An uneasy feeling made itself at home in the relationship and in time it failed. (FATE or DESTINY?)

A couple years later Matt played the role of Jason Bourne and although she still didn't have much use for the actor went to see the film based on the fact that she really had enjoyed the book. She was mildly impressed by Matt, and afterwards no longer avoided his films on principal.

Fast forward a couple more years and Lysandra is now in madly love with Man B, who by the way is indifferent to Ben & Matt. During the course of their relationship Lysandra watches the movie Eurotrip which features a short cameo of Matt. His brief appearance in the film changes Lysandra's perception of the actor entirely. In the film he's not the boring goody two shoes she thought he was, he plays a rather naughty rocker complete with piercings, tattoos, and nail polish. He sings a funny, unapologetic and extremely catchy song about the fact that he's sleeping with one of the main characters girlfriend right beneath his nose. (Titled: Scotty doesn't know.) Lysandra is intrigued by this bad boy transformation and now immensely enjoys watching Matt Damon's films; looking for signs of the bad boy rocker underneath the aforementioned boring characters.

She wonders if she had known this about Matt Damon while she was with Man A would things have turned out differently. (FATE or DESTINY?) The catch of course is that even if Eurotrip was out at that time neither she nor Man A would have watched it due it not being the type of movie they typically enjoyed. It was only due to Man B's fondness for this type of comedy that Lysandra's opinion was changed. (Definitely FATE)

Therefore Lysandra is left to believe that it wasn't Matt Damon that caused her relationship with Man A to fail after all. (FATE AGAIN) She gets the sense rather that you can love someone enough to be with them but not enough to stay with them. Had she not loved and lost Man A she wouldn't have been in the position to fall deeply in love with Man B, whom she does love enough to stay with. (despite his somewhat questionable taste in movies)

The ironic part is that Lysandra's extreme dislike for Matt Damon was based on the misconception that he was too conservative. As fate would have it, Man B (whom she loves with all her liberal heart) is much more Tory-ish than Lysandra, Man A and Matt Damon put together. Somewhere in cosmos the One Who Weaves the tapestry of our lives is having a good laugh.

I had written a bit of fiction and was going to post it here. In fact I had posted the beginning but changed my mind and deleted it. There are a couple reasons for this. It was based of an interesting but disturbing dream I had, or rather a disturbing dream that had some interesting bits in it. As I was re-reading it and considering that parts that still had to be written I realized that the semi-sick feeling in the pit of my stomach was not something I wanted to share. Or to be on my blog at all for that matter. I also realized that the rather interesting and poetic bits could just as easily be discussed in my blog without putting myself or my reader into that dream. To me it's best told in summary rather than detail.

Summary: I'm vacationing on an Island and am kidnapped along with several others to be ransomed. Several weeks pass by. I am the last from the original group I was captured with. The encampment I am kept at is finally raided and I am saved.

Interesting bits:

At the beginning I am the only one to fight my assailant and in this fight I cause him to lose an eye. During the course of the dream my fellow captives are ransomed and sent back home I alone am left. I keep thinking how clever my family is to keep them thinking I am worth something and thereby keeping me from being 'despoiled' or killed and yet not actually paying them anything for my release. In the dream I am both fascinated and frustrated with this. I find out at the end that part of my 'safe keeping' was not just that my family was drawing out negotiations but also that my captors were afraid of me and therefore kept their distance.

I kept trying to escape and rouse a 'captive rebellion' the whole time I was there. I was constantly being beaten (but not raped or maimed and therefore 'safe') for my attempts at freedom. I was in a lot of pain most of the dream. At one point some Mormon missionaries were captured and brought in. Both were young men and terribly frightened. I waited till night and went to them and asked for a blessing. The young man was panicked and unsure but I persuaded him. He put his hands on my lower back and prayed, the same words my dad has used all these years. I could feel a warm rush of energy and was 'healed'. In my dream I thought a lot about God and the Goddess. Christan and Pagan, a Christan healing a Pagan - was it his God or mine? Believe me it didn't matter in the dream. I could feel the turn of the tide & knew that deliverance was at hand.

There were lots of children there. Not all were to be ransomed, some were just to be sold. I saved my food for them. At night I would gather them around me and sing & tell stories. I felt like the wolf mother for Romulus & Remus, I wanted to save them. In the dream I was skinny but I wished I was chubby so that they could snuggle against me and feel warm and safe. I fought for them, even though in my waking life I've never professed to 'stand for the children' like others have. In my moments of doubt I felt like a coward. Archetypes warring inside me: Coward & Savior. All in all this was the most beautiful and heartbreaking part of the dream. I was the Goddess each night as I moved among them. Full and motherly, I loved that feeling.

Last, my husband had to make a split second decision in the dream as to whether he would stay and fight to try and save me or escape with our child. He would have been killed if he had fought, no doubt. I vacillated between loving him for saving our son & hating him for abandoning me. A deep canyon of emotion between mother and wife. In the end he was the one who brought the calvary and saved me.

It was a rough dream, too real to shake in the morning. Tonight I want sugar plums dammit!

My son is a grouchy nudist, and although these two adjectives are completely separate of each other in his world they mold and shape the very essence of mine today.

I'm still getting used to waking up with the boys in the morning. The way we now have things arranged no longer allows me the luxury of snoozing while Ellis comes and goes. I knew that I wanted a room that could have things plugged in (lamp) and breakables out in the open (plant) and I knew that the cost was making the bedroom a bedroom instead of an extension of the family room. I even wanted to start waking up earlier, although in my mind I was waking up at 6am and yoga-ing and meditating my heart out while the boys slept. Then making breakfast while Charlie still did the a.m. parenting. That is still the plan... eventually. Suffice it to say I'm in the 'adjustment period'. This morning I told Charlie 'I'm not ready to get up.' To which he replied 'Well I guess it's not quite 7am yet, you can sleep a little longer.'

Two mins later he cheerily woke me again and stated it was time to go wake up Ellis. As if on cue the baby monitor started filling our room with Ellis's early morning babble. I stretch and put on my happy face, trying to convince Charlie once again that I really am cut out for early mornings. I get up, put on my robe and head towards the bathroom but Charlie intercepts me. I confess lately I find myself kinda hanging out in there in the mornings. I lean against the counter and try to remember who I am and what I'm doing here, all the while shaking the last few cobwebs out of my sleepy dreamy head. I guess that Charlie has caught on as he now marches me to Ellis's room. I do our usual knocking ritual: knock knock - 'hello?' and small voice answers back 'hello?'

'Yes, hello is Ellis there?' Toddler laughter. We enter and I take the task of opening the shades so Charlie can pick up our son and see to his actual morning needs, i.e. hugs, cuddles, fresh diaper, milk & banana. I pop in Snow Dogs and sit on the couch, pulling a warm toddler close to me we veg and I am flooded with love for him in this moment. After about 30mins I am now fully awake. Breakfast consists of yogurt & cereal for the boy and a shake for me. As the protein and blueberries and milk hit my system I am totally energized and ready to tackle the rearranging of the closets in the hall and Ellis's room. This is where the tide turns.

I know my son does not handle transitions well. We work very hard to have a routine and make his life predictable. When that fails we do everything in our power to set him up to succeed in what ever we are doing. This being said I need him awake in order for me to attack the closet in his room. Had I known it was going to cause a toddler meltdown complete with hysterics & heartbreak (mine) I would have sent him on a task with his dad out of the apartment while it was being done. Given that he's not allowed in the closets he would have never known.

There in lies the first problem - he's not allowed in the closets. They are not toddler friendly places nor will they ever be. So I'm given the choice of either letting him in with me and fighting the whole time to keep him out of stuff. Or shutting the door and roasting since as posted yesterday there is no a/c in the closets and Alex (maintenance guy) has not come to fix the a/c we do have, more on that later. With this I go back and forth, I let him in until I can't take it any longer and then I kick him out and shut the door. It's bad juju either way.

The second problem is that he's confused? by what is happening. We go to the front door he thinks we're leaving. We go to his closet he thinks it's bed, bath or nap time. Moving back and forth between is making him a nervous wreck. And so he melts... but now I'm fully committed having dragged too much stuff out to turn back. And he melts...

Finally after a surprisingly short amount of time (45mins) I'm done. But then so is he. We pause and regroup, playing with some cars and singing. Then I try to do some just general picking up and cleaning. This is apparently another bad idea. So I put off my fears of maintenance showing up before the house is picked up. (As if Alex would call the apt. police on me for having a messy toy strewn house.) I sit down and call Charlie, hoping for some semblance of sanity. No such luck, he too is having an off day. I hang up as Ellis reenters the room with his shirt half off and twisted in some strange way I didn't even know was possible. I tell him that I will help him take it off but he must leave the rest of his clothes on. Since up till this point he hasn't fully undressed himself I really had no worries. I head back to the kitchen to do more picking up but as I turn around and look at my son he's now fighting with his pants/chonies.


This has been an increasing issue at our house these last few weeks. First it was just not wanting to get dressed after diap change. Then it was resisting getting dressed at all times. Followed by not wanting a diaper on. Now I don't see a problem with a naked toddler, I say it will help speed along potty training. Charlie made it abundantly clear after an 'accident' one evening that the toddler in question must at all times have a diaper on. He even went so far as to say ' you must want our son to poop on the floor,' which is the stupidest thing I've been accused of in a very long time. *rolls eyes* Although this stance is perplexing to both Ellis and myself, we accept that poo phobic people are a delicate lot and should be given due consideration.

So in striving for a 'united front' and consistency I tell my now naked toddler that he must get dressed. I go to the closet and hand him a pull up. He hands it right back to me shaking his head no with a look somewhere between disgust and pain. Either way I know I have two choices: fight or relent. After the morning we've been having I relent. And run him to his potty every few minutes. After a brief time of pure naked toddler, I persuade him to at least put on his over sized and baggy night shirt which he loves. After all he does spend a lot of time playing in the window and we don't exactly live out in the country.

A few more meltdowns later and I am about undone. I feed him, change him into a over sized short sleeve onsie and put him down for nap. It's an hour early but he falls right asleep.

I'm exhausted and troubled. I don't know if his reluctance to clothes is just practice with a new skill (undressing) or because his very (i mean very) sensitive skin hurts? Hence his being more accepting of baggy clothes and resistance to all others. I don't know if this hysteria about change is just part and parcel to having a high need baby turn into a high need toddler or something more? Or is it all just because he doesn't feel well? I know it may sound alarmist or dramatic but my mommy nerves are jangling.

I had an observation today that breaks and warms my heart at the same time. I noticed when he throws a fit I am almost always the antagonist. He would cry and throw himself away from me but then suddenly come back and fling his arms around my neck. He'd cling to me like a drowning person and sob into my chest, full chocking sobs. I secretly felt like I was drowning with him. Even though I was the cause of his upset I was also his comfort. It astounds and humbles me to the tip of my toes. Being this little guys' mother is amazing... I don't understand it and words escape me.

I am officially a college student!

After almost ten years! (unless you count that semester back in '02) I have finally rejoined the ranks of those in search of a higher education. I went in yesterday and took my placement exams. I did well in reading and writing and the adviser even said she 'rarely sees that high of a score' on the essay part. Hallelujah!!! I did not embarrass myself. My math score was paltry but it wasn't the worst either. I only have to take 2 remedial math classes before I'm 'college level'. The thing that I find odd is that according to the college I only have to pass this one remedial and they're happy. However if I want to go on to University (which I do) then I will have to get up to college level.

Charlie has been a driving force with this and I know I couldn't have done it with out his support. Yesterday he took the afternoon off to watch Ellis while I tested. When I picked the boys up (we were on our way out to pick up a celebratory dinner) they both looked a little worn. Apparently my poo phobic husband not only had to change a dirty diaper but a full on blow out. *chuckles* Now that is love.

I'm trying not to let myself be intimidated by the prospect of getting into the nursing program. She said that it's highly competitive and you pretty much have to get all A's. Plus you can only apply to the program once a year (I've already missed it this year) so the pressure is on. I know that they said the same thing when I got into the one at Grays Harbor and that one carried the burden of trying to impress the Head Nursing Program lady (I still remember her name, but won't mention it here) as my 'adviser' told me that she would either not let me in or make my life hell if she did and didn't like me. Whew! Thank goodness I'm so damn charming she couldn't resist me. LOL But I'm sure that I'll do well and will not have any problems making this dream come to life.

Just in case your wondering I am indeed planning to take this all the way and get my master's degree in midwifery. I've gone back and forth about traditional training vs. college and I think going through college it the best bet. It's my understanding that right now there isn't a midwifery program in Houston, but they are trying to get one going. I've got about 4 years before I get that far. But if not then there is one in Dallas or I'm still in love with the idea of attending OHSU in Portland. Thanks to Krystal for finding that awesome place and sharing it with me. Like I said there is a lot of time and things that need to happen before then but that's just my general plans.

Of course attending school makes me want to kick my diet/exercise goals into high gear. I figured out why I've been slacking these last few weeks and have created a plan to remedy that. I'll keep you updated with how that is going.

IN OTHER NEWS:
Left: 'Super cool dino' - Ellis did this all by himself. Not only do I have a super cool son but his toys rock too!

Things are heating up here in the South. 83degrees and muggy - I've started closing the shades part way while Ellis is up & completely while he naps to keep it cooler in the house. I also need to call maintenance to come out as I've had the a/c on 63 all day and it's still 70 inside. Summer is truly on it's way. *le sigh* On a side note I think I may need to add another title to my office/closet/meditation room. As there is no a/c vent in here it will also be the clothes optional room.

Ellis seems to be getting better. At least he doesn't look/act completely miserable which makes
me feel much better. We washed his bedding this morning and colored together. I love spending time with this little guy. He was more interested in sorting the crayons than coloring. Then we sorted his toy box and like I imagine most little kids love to do (I know I did) he climbed in and laid down. I love him!

Today as I've considered my blog I've thought a great deal about my dear son. He's been under the weather for about a week now. I'm pretty sure that it's just a cold and have been trying all the usual tactics to deal with it; humidifier, chest rub (organic vicks, I don't remember the brand right now), breathing treatments, mentholated air freshener. I thought he was getting better as his nose has been clear for the last two days and he had just a cough. But today as I was preparing breakfast I looked out into the living room and saw my sweet boy put his head in his hands and lean against the couch, I realized that he may actually be getting worse. As with most things toddler, it's a guessing game as to if his clingy/independent swings are due to toddlerhood or sickness. If his refusing to eat his usual favorites are due to changing taste buds or sore throat. I myself vacillate between tender nurturing and super grouchy if you try to scratch me one more time...

So I spent most of the morning just sitting still. Sometimes that is the best thing to do with a son like mine. I sit in one spot and he comes and goes as he likes. When he needs me I'm there to read or laugh or look out the window for the hundredth time. And when he doesn't need me I'm still there (he checks often) trying not to obsess about all the things I wanted to do with this time. Just 'be in the moment' with this amazing little creature who just recently started calling me mom. *grins* What a great feeling.

So while my son was sleeping (4.5hrs! he really doesn't feel well) this afternoon I tackled the closet. I have to note that after spending the morning being very still it was hard to induce spring into action feelings when the time came. There were movies I've been meaning to watch and magazines I've been wanting to catch up on. But all it took was one quick thought back to my mission statement which didn't say anything about movies or magazines or being a slugbach for no good reason and I got moving. First with some before pictures and then a slow steady emptying and a through cleaning.

I have to pause here and admit that I get a great deal of pleasure cleaning the floorboards in my home. It feeds my ego to think that most young women my age don't give a lot of thought to this particular area of the home (truthfully it probably doesn't matter one iota in their world) and yet my floor boards are super clean. Emmy - 1 Other Young Women - 0 More than that I love that you don't really notice how bad they are but once they are clean the whole room is transformed. We have a down comforter so little tiny feathers escape and make nests in the corners of the room. I love that I know about these beautiful little nests and although I destroy them I alone knew they were there. It's a good feeling of a job well done.

Next I laid the wires for the laptop and its accompanying equipment. And braved the step stool to put up a beautiful map of middle earth. All in all it is usable. As a matter of fact I now type this from my cozy little room. Although it is far from it's complete transformation I'm glad I made the effort. Especially since now my bedroom is clear of electronics and feels like the sanctuary I've been wanting ever since I moved in.

During my cleaning spree I came across a cd that my husband was looking for. He came to me about a month ago greatly distressed because his favorite cd (that aus gave him for christmas) was missing. I didn't tell him I found it. I just popped it in my computer a little bit ago, proud as any treasure hunter standing atop the lost city of Troy (yes it was once lost). Charlie immediately transformed into Dean Martin singing 'When the moon hits the sky like a big pizza pie that's amor'e. He deep voice resonating in my small closet/office/mediation room, I feel absolutely smitten. How can I not love a man who sings of love to me? I suddenly feel like a young woman, full of promise and possibility at the first blush of romance instead of like a worried mom who is sore and stiff from moving too much furniture.

I knew this closet/office/meditation room was a good idea.

As you may know Charlie and I are constantly falling in and out of love with things. Last week it was this awesome furniture set from World Market for our sun room. This weekend we're enamored with the idea of leasing a home in Kingwood. (two weeks ago it was buying a home in Kingwood)

You see last fall we almost bought a home in the King('s)wood. We fell in love with the feelings we had while looking at little starter homes with small back yards and majestic full grown trees. Much the same feelings we had today while we were driving up and down every street soaking in the normalcy and community of people mowing lawns, washing cars and sitting around drinking tea and talking. Two weeks ago we were convinced that it was time to buy. Then we started reading more and more about the economy and the housing market and took a long serious look at our finances. It was tough but we decided to stay where we were at and take our lease 6mo at a time. Since then we've rearranged the apartment, hung up pictures and just overall made ourselves at home (after 8mo of living here) and it truly does feel like home now.

Just when I thought it was settled and I knew where we were going to be spending our next Christmas we went to a Crawfish Boil at our dear friends Mike & Pat's home. Let me just take a moment and paint the scene for you. It's spring time here in Texas. That means 75-80 degrees with little or no humidity. Clear sky and cool breezes. We're sitting out on the back porch (that Mike make himself) at a long table covered in butcher paper. Three large boilers used to cook spicy red crawfish, corn, baby red potatoes and sausage. A cooler full of the steaming 'boil' just begging to be dug into and devoured. A half barrel full of ice and beverages. At least a dozen wonderful people gathered around talking and eating and laughing. And my beautiful son who has never had this particular opportunity chasing their silver lab(ish) puppy around the back yard. Completely safe, and happy and full of toddler mischief. It was wonderful, the best time I've had in a long time. Just relaxing with people you know and like. Eating, drinking (water for me I was driving) and talking.

How could we return home to our 3rd story palace in the Ghetto and not want a back yard of our own to bring these good feelings into? A yard for our son, a place for Charlie's BBQ, and instead of a sun room a covered patio for the sublimely perfect furniture from World Market. So although we knew that we were just priming ourselves to fall right back into love with Kingwood, we drove on over. Justifying that Ellis needed to sleep, napping in the car on a Sunday drive sounded like just the thing. Maybe we would only look at places for lease this time. So we did drive through our favorite neighborhood, Sherwood Trails. (Robin Hood anyone?) And all the way back home we extolled the wonderful life we know we would have there. Right up until we got home... to our place that finally feels like home. Our beautiful apt. in the trees. That not only can we meet our financial obligations but also our goals by staying here. One quick glance at har.com to see what is available in Kingwood at what price was all the reminder I needed. We are in the right place for now. Our beautiful home in the trees.

Now I need to go find the my Sunday paper so I can look at the World Market ad. I wonder what we will fall in love with this week?

I talked to mom today. For several hours. About the usual; family, religion, work, play, health. It's always so good to speak to her. I wish that we lived closer so that I could do normal mother daughter things like take cookies and milk over when I know she's having a rough day. But at the end of our revelry return to the safe harbor of my home.

I also wish that I could help her to actually be happy. Like it often is the answers are so easy on the outside. Do this. Change that. Try this. Say that. But when your deeply entrenched in the bad reality it just doesn't work that way. I know I used to live there. In the bad reality. Where the sweet ambrosia of despondency seduces you away from embracing life. You can't tell up from down. Everything is dark and without hope. The one way out of the bad reality is to leave. It's not just a state of mind but has actually taken up residence at my parent's home. Maybe the lay lines are bad there? Or maybe the land is cursed? or maybe it's just that too many bad things have happened to my family at that location. Whatever it is, it slowly erodes my family's chance of surviving the bad things that take place there.

Anyways, it was a good talk. *wry chuckles* I love to talking to my mom. It feels like so good to spend time with people who know you & share a history with you. She has so much to share. I have so much to share. It's wonderful when we get the chance to spend an afternoon together, even if it's through the telephone.

And now back to my dear husband & our Friday night. (son is sleeping) I think he's poured me another drink and is playing our Love Song. Time to sign off. *winks*

Trying to feed my passion for writing. I had a strange day, wild ups and pitiful downs. I realized that I must really shower everyday for my own sanity. I feel so much better. Clear headed and not so crudy.


I need to feed my passions period. Like the one for my very own super cool office/meditation room. I'm in the process of converting our closet into an office. Some where I can leave all my awesome electrical stuff out, with out fear of tiny little toddler fingers trying to figure out how it all works. I want it to feel like walking into another universe. Tranquil, peaceful and wi-fi ready.

I'll post pics as it comes along.

Which reminds me I also need to meditate more. Well I need to meditate to begin with and then meditate more.

I want to be a success story. I will be a weight loss success story. I won't allow myself to be an excuse not to do things. Like travel. Go to school. Sex. Smile. Talk to strangers. Work. Buy nice clothes. Explore.

It's time to quit thinking about it and just do it. I know what to do. It is possible to do it.

I hate this heavy oppressive feeling that has invaded my home and my heart. I feel like I'm suffocating and I don't like it. I want to choose to be happy. I want to choose to be a good mother and wife and ambassador for the Great Mother. I want to be graceful and admired for my grace. I want to be someone who other people want to be. I want to be impeccable with my words and actions. I want to be a kick ass mom. Super green. I want to inspire people. I want to help women take charge of their bodies. I want to help men quit feeling like they have to apologize for being men. I want to write. Everyday. Even if I have nothing to say. I want to have order in my home. I want to eat good food. I want to learn how to be a naturally thin person. I want to take care of my body. I want to honor my body. I want to have babies. I want to make babies. I want to feel filled to the brim full of life and excitement. I want to feel accomplishment from a job well done. I want to quit saying I'll do that tomorrow. I want to write love letters to my husband and son so that they know how much I care for them. I want to have an amazing incredible life to look back on. I want to live full of hope and not fear. I want to be the embodiment of the Goddess. I want to practice my beliefs. I want to teach others my beliefs. I want to be an adept again. I want to bring my family and others peace. I want to spread joy and happiness and contentment. I want to surprise people by being who I truly am. I want to be all that is good in woman and mother and wife. I want people to be drawn to me and care for and about me. I want to have a circle of women around me whom I know and love. I want to make peace with my past. I want to seek my adventure. I want to write letters to people I care about. I want to be a good auntie, sister and friend. I want to have the words that people need to hear. I want to believe there is more to this. I want to believe. I want to heal the Earth. I want to practice what I preach. I want to be fulfilled. I want to be vulnerable with myself. I want to allow myself to be human. I want to allow myself to be Divine. I want to commune with nature. I want to do the things that bring me peace, push my limits, test my skills and help me grow. I want to experience all that life has to offer me. I want to start a family news letter. I want to communicate. I want to teach my son and husband about the sacredness of woman and man. I want to teach my family how to live their lives out of joy and love rather than fear and despondency. Mostly I just want to be the highest form of me that I can be. All day, everyday. Always push for more. Grow more. Love more.

I am so mad today.

I don't want it to be true. I try to focus on the small happy moments that I know infused their way into his life but my mind keeps slipping away... to sorrow and anger and more sorrow. I think about him going hungry, that horrible ache that is hunger. I feel his pain and resentment about living in a world that didn't offer a way of life for his rare spirit. Anguish that his home did not bring him that peace we all seek... safe shelter from the 'too rough fingers of the world'.

WHY!!!

He was so good. And flawed.
Full of hope. And a deep well of sadness.
Silly Scobby Doo laughter. And unbidden tears.
Loyal to a fault. And misplaced trust.

My mind wanders down dark paths as my heart squeezes tight in my chest. Was he in pain when he died? Did he feel peace at long last? Did he look back before rejoining that Great Fire and see us standing there, wondering and lost and filled to the brim with love?

And what of the man who killed him? Was he a good man, too? Does his heart ache? Are his dreams haunted by dark uneasiness? Does he feel like I do, that the world isn't the beautiful safe place it once was? Does doubt hound his footsteps? Or his he an asshole like my bitter resentment hopes he is? Wishing I could hate him for stealing away my brothers life before I was ready to lose him? Does he swagger now? Or does his head hang a little lower, his eyes never quite meeting his peers?

Is it worse to have pulled the trigger or to have slowly eroded away his noble spirit by a diseased form of love? What is the greater sin? Who is to blame for the loss of a man named Saul? There must be an accounting somewhere.

And so my mind wanders... and my heart grieves... and my salty tears fall... Wishing things were different and that I could find peace with this horrible injustice that has befallen my brother and my family.








A tribute to the fallen