broken wings

i'm not really sad tonite. just a little road weary, i suppose. i may not sound much better but i finally feel it, knock on wood. bella woke me at 2 this morning with a sore tummy. we argued about suppositories, which is just something you do, when your child is cursed with the *can't poops* (or ibs). you get used to these occasional colon hiccups on the road to *what works for you*. afterwards, i went into a coughing fit and sprawled out in front of the toilet, i thought, great. this is how i'm gonna go. "woman dies from flem". fitting.

i almost caved and went to the doctor this morning but as it turns out, a little shampoo and a shave in a hot bath can go a long way. i laid back down, afterwards, and didn't even feel guilty about going back to sleep. i swear me by some zicam, kids. they can start floating offers in my inbox aaaany daaay.

we let bella's butterflies go at the park, this afternoon. all but 1 flew away. his wing appears to be broken; i don't know how or when. so we brought him back home & bella picked him a bunch of flowers and told him they "could be roomates". and he was "still beautiful."

we had a quiet night together. watched AI; had some dinner. and now as they both sleep, i find myself contemplative. do you ever have those moments that you wish could just be bottled. those thousand tiny instances that sparkle ever so briefly in the ebb and flow....

so much has happened over the last year. too much to even comprehend. i've had days so dark and so very painful. and i've cherished days of absolute beauty and grace. i have felt such loss. and so alone. there are moments when i feel like i'm never gonna get this mom gig down. days when i'm not so sure i want to still be jason's wife. after all this time and all we've been through, at the end of the day, when everyone gathers around the table....

but thank you, God. thank you for the courage or maybe the ignorance, to get back up. i'm not running. not even jogging yet. some days, this life that i know, still inches by at such a snails pace, while everyone else is better and faster than me. they get it. but with every little bit, every little hitch, every single solitary moment that i allow myself to breathe, i feel myself picking up just a little bit of speed. some day, maybe i'll even feel the wind in my hair.

in the meantime, even tho my wings are broken, thank you for bella. and for reminding me i'm still beautiful.

losing faith, just a little at a time

dear god. its me again, margaret.

you know. the chick with the raw,peeling nose. in the pajamas she hasn't changed out of for two days. with the button missing off the top and the alfredo stain on my boob?

i would really, really like a reminder.....a little proof......some evidence that there's actually some good and decency in this world, tonight. please.

i'm flinging my mom button in a corner for a few hours. as it turns out, i am terribly "mean, wretched and unfair". my 7 year old, the drama queen. thank you, thank you. encore at bedtime, i'm sure. which, incidentally, is being moved up by at least a half-hour this evening.

at supper, jason took one look at my sexy ensemble, cocked an eyebrow and in his best john wayne -meets- cap'n jack sparrow, said: "well helloooo there lil lady. are you tryin' to seduce me, you cheeky strumpet?"

i would also like to annouce my abstinence from female friendships, heretofore. instead, intending to only pursue committed relationships with robots from here on out. robots that come with compliments and soft batch chocolate cookies when i insert quarters into metallic cleavage.

"i have way too much sh** on my plate right now to deal with this...."

this was said, right before i was hung up on, this afternoon. after i had asked christy if she was going to stay in touch. after a long silence, after she had called to "see how i was doing. oh, and she left her cigarettes here...she'd need to stop by and pick those up."

"too much on her plate." wow. so, i guess i don't. or i guess i do such a grand job of hiding it all that everyone thinks they can heap a big steaming pile o' poo right on top of mine. really? seriously? because this is why i'm in therapy. because, for some reason, i can't seem to say no and stop myself from loving people unconditionally and not opening my arms and my heart and my home open wide for them to rip me a new one.

it could be this nasty sickness talking. the fact that it hurts to breathe, cough, blow my nose.....it certainly doesn't help that my offspring came home from school with attitude plus, tonite. or that my mom called this morning to remind me i'm fat.

just tell me this. why do some people just not care? why. why do some people open their mouths and use and take and not care one bit who they step on, in the process.

and why is it, that i care so much?

and why is it that every time i get just a couple steps forward, i feel like i fall a mile back....

tonite, i don't want to understand. tonite, even my lucky wonder woman underoos aren't helping.

get down with the sickness

i'm just passing through while i wait for my rendezvous with tylenol night-time cold and sore throat *with cool burst* to kick in.

mom called this morning:

:croak:
ewwww. are we tired or sick??
:croak:
well that's a bummer. are you taking your vitamins and massaging your face?
:croak,croak:
well i guess this isn't the best time then, but i was just calling to see if you'd like to try this new diet pill thats out....

rain, rain

jason got his work bonus, friday. and while there are so many more sensible things that could have been done with Extra Free Money that we didn't have to work for, there are also times when you just need a break from insanity. whenever i have those rare moments of guilt, i am reminded of the sage advice given to us, a newly engaged couple, years ago, by a crusty old co-worker. he said he didn't have any shower gift for us but he could give us some words of wisdom: "work to live. don't live to work".

words that hold true, when you're struggling to make something of your life. when you have average jobs with average pay and living week to week, just is. when you weren't smart enough or lucky enough to do everything right, once you hit adulthood. or, when you find yourself in your 30's and still without a higher education or a car paid off or a mortgage or anything proper, really, to show for yourself, in society's terms. years of bad planning, poor choices, just bum luck, can eat away at you. and clawing your way back up to the top sometimes takes more energy and sacrifice than you could ever realize. so those moments, few and far between, when you splurge, i can't judge anyone for. i understand, all too well.

yesterday i felt hellacious. i'd spent friday night at work, self-medicating with zicam and herbal teas. after my ladies were in for the night and my cleaning was done, i mostly chilled, literally, on the couch. i tried to focus on bad reality tv and hemming some of bellas pants.the night was long. very long. and not a friend, to me. by the time morning rolled around, it was everything i could do, to get the girls thru their morning routine and wait for my shift relief to arrive.

when i arrived home, it was to the hustle and bustle of my busy little family. jason had errands to run and an uncle to help move. bella was packing a bag to go with nana to her church groups' spring fling. i did little but kiss everyone hello and goodbye and then flop down on my wondrous, most fabulous bed in all the world, and pass out.

i woke up in a coughing fit around 11 and called my manager, asking for the night off. when jason arrived home in the afternoon, he snuggled in next to me and said he had an idea: we could still go to gatlinburg . why not....he'd grab us some fannie farkle dogs and we'd veg out in the hot tub until we passed out from the sheer awesomeness of it all.

we had joked about escaping to gatlinburg if he got a bonus check. we'd just run away for a day and the world be damned.

decisions. i, of course, had banked on feeling human, so as to acutally enjoy the experience.

i felt like unadulterated crap. but the very promise of a hot tub was like handing me the keys to the kingdom. i nearly regretted the choice on the way up....its only an hour and a half drive, but we took jasons car, which has no ac. so not only was i burning up with a fever, sore scratchy throat, congestion and all the added goodies that the "s" word brings with it, but it was literally hot.

thankfully, it still being the calm-before-the-storm off season, the traffic wasn't bad. and the scenic ride up, is always breath-taking and beautiful. i stopped to get more sinus medicine and we got a gorgeous room, which turned out to be a loft, with full jacuzzi. jason did get the aforementioned sausage dogs, and with my nasal spray, i could almost taste it. and then, my friends, we soaked in every last bit of hot, bubbly goodness that jacuzzi had to offer. jason was wonderfully attentive and snuggled with me all night.

one day. when i'm rich and famous and out of debt.... i too, shall have one of these wonderful water inventions. its too bad you can't just rent a hot tub. after watching reruns of the cmt show,"can you duet" ( have you seen this?? and is it just me or does that one judge need to totally brush the hair out of his eyes!!), i didn't sleep worth crap. i burned and chilled the night away and couldn't wait to come back home. we stopped at the apple barn for some breakfast and made our way out of town.

today is a dreary, rainy day. which i will find helpful, when i snuggle back into bed in a few. i think the medicine and all my tea is helping, but its taking its sweet time. on the way back home, i had time to mull over the decision of whether or not to go into work tonite....did i really want to waste vacation time on the fact that i feel like absolute crap? but as it turns out, i do.

we got home to discover christy was gone. you'll remember she'd left out of here thursday night, saying she needed to go pack up her apartment, and she'd called that one time... but not since. and so sometime last night or this morning, she let herself in. took all her things and just left. no note. no phone message. no email. just gone. i called her sister to see if she'd heard from her. she had, and was surprised i didn't know ~ christy is "coming to stay with her for awhile". the same sister that doesn't know she's gay, for fear she will reject her or worse yet, confirm that God will. the same sister that won't allow animals in her home, that she could "never live with".

there's a part of me that wants to be loving and gracious and kind if or when she does make that phone call. but there's the other, very real & wounded side of me, that is angry and hurt. the side of me that knows i opened my home and my life to her. that we sacrificed alot and did so much to try to help. and she, in essence, slapped us in the face. i don't really know what the lesson in all of that is. and part of me, doesn't really want to.

but maybe that's the problem....maybe the lesson is that i'm supposed to be fixing me. not everyone else. that maybe i'm supposed to officially learn to bloom where i'm planted and be happy with me and who i am and what i have. with enough. to focus on my relationship with jason so that nights like last night aren't so terribly rare. so motherhood doesn't seem so hard. so the hours in the day don't seem so few.

there are moments, when the walls in this room, seem to close in on me. especially when money is tight or i'm feeling the pressure and demands from all different directions. but there are also moments, like now, when i am extremely grateful to God for what we do have. and that even tho we may not ever have excess, we always do have enough.

hows that, for irony

well it just figures that the very day i decide to get myself healthy and stay healthy, that my white blood cells would all die off in a sub-bubonic plague. having not 1 but 2 smokers around, the past couple weeks, has been a terrible influence on me. i'd never so much as looked twice at one of the cancer sticks and in fact, had never even bought jason a pack up until 2 years ago. even when it was all the rage with my girlfriends and their black clove and cigarellos. 'never interested me. before we moved in together, and way before bella came along, that was my one prerequisite of jason, that he smoke outside. i hated the smell. then all of a sudden in the face of my marriage and life as i knew it officially spiraling down the loo, i bummed one off jason one day & inhaled the nasty sucker down, thus beginning my on again-off again relationship with tobacco. i'd bum one here and there, from time to time.

i know. i know. shocking. the good news is i don't need it, as say, jason does. but when life gets stressful, that becomes the first thing i want to reach for. when mom had her heart-attack, when ray lost his leg, after the rape....

i still hate the smell...still don't allow it in the house, but still visit my dirty nicotene secret from time to time.

you'd think i'd know better by now. after last years bout with pneumonia and onset of the most Ungodliest Painful Asthma the world has ever known, you'd think i wouldn't be so stupid. but stupid is as stupid does, and i have been so stupid on 11 such occasions over the past year. yes, i keep track. i got a hankering for one the other day , actually, when all that dog drama went down, and i puffed 2 of them b'natches. the very next day, i decided to get back on my vitamin wagon that i'd fallen off ever sooooo gracefully, drink my weight in ice water and in true "lets DO this" form, walked a brisk 2 miles around the track that night, ignoring my heaving busoms.

add to this, my evil plan to cash in some vacation time on my next paycheck, and you have the makings for a right good disaster.

therefore, i spent all of yesterday and last night in sinus/chest/chills/congestive torture. i came this close to calling into work but bucked up and bought a bottle of zicam to get me thru the night. i wish i hadn't. and i have a sneaking suspicion that i may not be as lucky tonite. my plan is to knock myself out in abit and see if i'm miraculously healed by tiny heavenly faeries while i sleep. that could be the nyquil talking, but i'm not one to argue.

anyway. what i really came to talk about was this: guess who called my house last night. guess. you'll remember awhile back, my lengthy speel about the upstairs neighbors and the notes and the general funk and the "what to do, what to do", and such. well she called. and talked for like, 20 minutes. nicely. and asked for help. 'said she'd seperated from her abusive boyfriend. could we please keep an eye out for her, and so forth.

the irony in all this, is that tho i've felt really rather put out with christy, i don't think the neighbor would have ever reached out, had christy not embaressed the crap out of me by knocking on their door and asking for weed last week.

'funny, how the world goes 'round.

zicam, take me away

ugh. i feel like snot today.

on the upside, it is pay-day. and it is my opinion that one of the greatest contributions of the south is chick-fil-a. twice a month, i plunk down $4.17 and indulge my guilty, dirty pleasure of a #2 breakfast combo after depositing my hard earned paycheck. oh my gadd. its like buttah.

so my stir-fry actually made it to the wok last night, and we ate picnic-style outside, to enjoy the spring weather. we played in the yard with frank for abit before wandering back in, and decided to run to mr. k's, for a minute. mr. k's is this way super awesome used book/cd/dvd ~ buy/sell/trade kind of store. very hip. very cheap. we found the box set for the 1st season of dexter, a book for bella and a gift card for shelley's birthday. afterwards, jason pulled into Pier One and said, "lets go look at candles." i don't ever argue with insanity. especially if it might mean i get something out of the deal. especially if that something is a ginger-peach candle. they had a big sale going on and i walked out with some tea lights and 4 tins of my favorite smell.

suhhweeet.

then, after a months worth of talking about it, shelley and i officially began our walking last night. i can't say that we'll win any iron woman championships anytime soon, but it was a start, and jolted our tickers into high gear for a little while.

i got in rather late, sheepishly. and to my surprise, jason was still up. we jumped in the shower together where i enjoyed the immensely scrumptious fragrance of my new bodywash by dial: soy and almond milk. faaaaabulous.

jason was acting really suspicious, wondering if i needed anything from the bedroom and such....i said no and he asked if i was going to be a minute? i can read him like a book. so i played along and took my time. when i finally emerged, he was nowhere to be seen and the bedroom door was closed. i opened it and squealed with delight.

there were candles lit everywhere. and he'd hung up my gauze canopy that i couldn't live without, 3 years ago. i saw one set up at a Bed,Bath and Beyond and drooled over it for over a year. when they finally went on sale and i had the extra money, i snatched one up. but aside from a brief stint up before our move to NE, its spent much of the last 3 years, folded in its package. i took a picture last night but it really didn't do it justice. i was going to post a link but i'm entirely too lazy. so just trust me when i tell you it was All That Is Awesome.



needless to say, much gratuitious lovin' followed.

butterflies

bella's butterflies hatched yesterday. bella returned again and again to her netted treehouse yesterday, to log their progress: this one was eating, this one was flapping his wings.....she made the decision to "let them fly free" this sunday afternoon at the butterfly habitat in our nearby park. i told her i was really proud of her, because i know thats a hard decision. for me, that was a profound moment as a mom, that my baby was realizing some deep truths. for bella, it was simple. she nodded and said, "when ya gotta fly, ya gotta fly." and in the next breath, "can i watch hannah montana?"

after a fitful sleep last night, i got up this morning with purpose anew. i decided to earnestly and faithfully begin my daily immuno supplements again and as i've been lax to eat breakfast as of late, i had some leftovers arby's sandwich, courtesy of melissa last night. i thought briefly about going for a walk but then decided i'd walk with shelley tonite instead.

i love corned beef and sauerkraut. if i'm lucky, i get myself a sandwich on st. patricks day, once a year, just for the sake of celebrating, since noone else in my adopted TN home seems to share my pallet. melissa knows this and brought us all supper as a thank you for watching autumn for her; my sandwich was a reuben.

it made me feel instantly chagrined at my earlier aggravation with the whole babysitting and not getting to spend quality time as friends 'thing' ,and it was a 2 fold blessing, because after the day yesterday had turned out to be, i was in no mood to fire up the wok and start stir-frying anything.

and anyway. how cute is this?

christy never did come back last night and when i peeked in bella's room, i noticed a candle had been burning all night. i went to blow it out and discovered she'd lit it in front of her mothers obituary card. i sat down for a moment and prayed. 'wondered if our standards had been too high. reading the tiny funeral card, i realized its that very thing that makes me know she hasn't let go of the past. hasn't begun to heal for the present life she lives.

i wondered briefly at the whole "no one left behind" phenomenon. i realize i'm taking that a little morbidly out of context when the basis of that is founded on no child being left behind in school, but anyway. if i'd been on the ark and she came running, i'd have let her on with her animals. then again, if there had to be a choice between her or her animals, i'd have had to pick her.

the truth is, sometimes good work is dirty work, right? maybe we should've just dropped that rule this one time for the sake of her comfort...who cares if her dog poops or pees in bellas room or marks it up or chews one of her favorite toys. well, the truth is, I care. we care. and maybe i'm a long ways off from graduating from grace academy with honors...maybe i need to take this semester over again, but this is where i'm at. what would that say to bella. that rules have exceptions? that we don't care about her space and value her special things? that grownups can do whatever they want with no consequence....?

i think, in all humbleness, God allowed that question to be answered for me today. and in more ways than one.

because this week has been so chaotic, i actually chose, after breakfast, to lay back down for awhile. naps are few and far between around here, so i basked in the cool breeze coming in from the window and being able to stretch out. for a blissful 3 hours, i slept.

when i got up, i called to talk with jason on his lunch break and right after, christy called. she said hello and was quiet. i asked, "what's up, my girl."

she said she needed to go last night. she needed to take her cat and dog and go back to where she could sleep with them and not be seperated. that she's missed them and she knows i can't understand but it would be for me like being seperated from bella. that she needed weed to help her unwind. that she needs to get alot packed. that she's decided not to stay there but is looking into public housing. that she needed her own place.

i told her that yesterday was horrible and awkward. that i wished she could've just sat and talked with me instead of just storming out....maybe we could've come to a workable solution. that i was glad she wasn't staying there, because that's the reason she left to begin with. that weed is not going to help her more than for just a little while. that we love her.

...that government housing is a waiting list and a whole lot of red tape. that i know this first-hand after helping 2 others in that system this past year. she also has no birth certificate, no ss card, no photo id. her drivers license is suspended and was stolen a long time ago. all things i've been trying to help her get back. all things that take time. and time is a process. that even if they can find her immediate temporary housing, that may or may not include her 2 dogs and a cat.

she said she felt confident they would help her if she told them she has no place to go.

i said, "but you do."

she sighed and said, "i know. but i need my own place. i need to do this...all of this...for me. not because of morgan or you or anybody. for me. i'm the only one that can take care of me.

and i wanted to argue that she's not alone and that there are those of us that love her and more importantly, God wants to take care of her. even that she's being just a little bit ridiculous in the meanwhile.....but i think my heavenly father knowingly and lovingly silenced my tongue.

the very real truth is, no matter if she's coming to that conclusion in a round about way, facing herself, taking care of herself is one of the biggest parts to that process. and in the last 2 weeks that i've invited myself along in that journey, hasn't that been the one resounding prayer of my heart? that she do these things. for her....?

i think, in a way, this is very much the way a mother feels, when she comes to the realization that no matter how much she loves her kids. no matter the lessons she's painstakingly tried to teach, that sometimes, your kid just needs to fall flat on their butt before they ever get that point. and even then, it may take a few falls. may even break the tailbone in the process. and that the most important thing you can do, is love them. and let them fly free.

when ya gotta fly.....well. ya gotta fly.

doggone it

aaaaargh. God, i don't know what to do. i really don't. today has been utter chaos.

i hate that christy is in so much pain. i hate that she left out of here mad. angry with me, with herself, with morgan, with life.

i know how hard it is to part with a pet, let alone several. it breaks your heart, when they've become such a part of your family. i've had to do so myself. and i learned my lesson the hard way with the realization that people should not get pets unless they are fully equipped to deal with everything that entails. you see a cute puppy or kitten and your brain short circuits and turns to puddles on the floor. what you don't think about, is food and housetraining and exercising and vaccines, and animals going into heat. let alone allergies, breed behaviors, unforseen medical issues and just plain how they'll fit into your life and vice versa.

i read somewhere that anyone thinking about having a child should first have to adopt a diabetic puppy and see how that goes.

i think the same is true for prospective pet owners.....

i do not like chaos, and i can't stand mess. i'm anal that way and i admit it. i love animals. but i do not like all their baggage. i like cats because they're low maintennance. they come around when they feel like it and provide random moments of cuteness and entertainment. we are not dog people and we learned this long ago. so don't even begin to ask me how we ended up with a dashchund. its a long story that has less to do with my momentary lapse of brain function, seeing him as a substitue for the 2nd baby i have yet to concieve, and more possibly to do with the tolerance of my husband and our 2 older male cats. somehow, despite all odds, frank fits. it helps that he is a miniature weenie and as our cats are both bigger than he is, they've never had a hard time getting along or establishing who's boss, and he, in turn, doesn't mind one bit being the baby around the house.

last night my good friend melissa called. we used to be very close, but since her baby was born, she has called me twice just to chat. otherwise,she dissapears for weeks and months on end until she needs me to babysit. in her defense, i know her life is just as full of all the *stuff* that we all face, day to day, but i won't sit here and tell you that doesn't still hurt just a little. that said, the baby is innocent in any of that, and i, of all people, am familiar with what its like to have a baby and a job and desperately in need of affordable,child care in a pinch. and how easy it is to forget what that might feel like to the receiving end.

even so, i have struggled in the past little while with being taken advantage of. i think, at times, that people rely on me a little too much for their comfort, their well-being, their safety net. and that's entirely my fault because i somehow can never seem to say no.

bleh. anyway.....so i didn't even want to get up this morning. i was tired and cranky and woke up with a headache. i hate those kind of mornings. i dropped bella at school and came back home to slice up my beef tenderloin and start the marinating for stir-fry tonight. christy's landlord phoned, and right afterwards, morgan. christy was immediately up and out the door.

i don't really ask, and she doesn't so often tell, these days. i know they're both sorting thru what it is that they need to do, in the aftermath of their breakup, and i know that i want to be as helpful as i can without getting in the middle. we've offered our home and the truth is, thats going to be a little messy no matter how hard you try. christy has been with us nearly 2 weeks now. and its still a process, trying to all live around eachother. our house that once seemed so big, is just a little smaller now.

i know she's hurting so much and trying so hard, which is never easy, taking one thing at a time. she's been more than helpful around the house, helping with groceries and even giving us some $ for letting her stay which was a lovely blessing but certainly not expected. the truth is, i wonder what lesson it is, that God expects me to learn, sometimes.

christy and morgan lived in a very small apartment. and in that small apartment, they had 7 dogs and 8 cats. it was too much and too many, and if you went to visit you were knocked over by dogs climbing and jumping all over you, and, i will be honest, the smell. you can't help but smell that many animals no matter how hard you try to keep things clean.

i know that they loved them. but the truth is, they would never have had that many to begin with, if morgan could've stopped herself from collecting every baby, every stray she came into contact with. if they would've had them fixed. if christy would've said NO.

i was just in the middle of fixing a bottle for the baby this afternoon, when christy came back with 5 of the 7 dogs. i had placed an ad for her the other day, per her request,when it became apparent that they needed to officially move out of their apartment. the landlord had threatened eviction and animal control and gave them a week. so i advertised the dogs for her and she got a response almost immediately ~ a woman willing to take ALL of them.

but somewhere in the process of me trying to do good will, morgan decided she wanted to keep the puppy and one of the females who, incidentally, is now pregnant. and christy decided she didn't want to part with her favorite two. nobody discussed any of that with me. christy had mentioned she'd be taking the dogs out to meet the woman that had called. instead, she arranged for the woman to come to our house.

our dog has been very sheltered. when christy asked if she could bring her cat of some 14 odd years with her, we reluctantly said we'd give it a try, figuring the cats would be the biggest obstacle. thankfully, the introduction went off without a hitch, with our 2 mildly curious, but mostly disinterested. frank could care less.

so when 5 dogs came running into franks' domain this afternoon, our house turned into a freakshow. there were dogs barking and growling and jumping everywhere. spraying/marking on my toilet, my tub, my trash can, sodas, my broom, my couch. frank about hyperventilated on himself and i'm standing there holding him in one arm and a startled screaming baby in the other, going, "what just happened??"

the next 2 hours were hell. i literally shut myself off in the bedroom with frank and the baby. when the woman finally came, she left with 3 of them and christy came back into the house, crying. i went out to comfort her and she begged me to let the other 2 stay.

i told her how sorry i was that she's having to make all these choices so fast, and that i know its got to be painful. that i wished i was more in the position to help, but the truth is, i'm not....i don't have the kind of house that fits multiples of dogs and cats. the only animal we've allowed in bella's room is brimley, who sleeps with her every night. frank finds the wonder of her toys entirely too intrigueing, and runtz is a little too interested in her frogs. where christy has more or less taken over bella's room, she'd have to understand, the dogs couldn't be in there with her. and then there's the fact of my 4 lb shaking mass of scared spitless weenie wuss thats barking incessantly during this entire conversation. i can't have the neighbors complaining and in turn my landlord upset. i can't do that.

i hoped so hard she'd understand. but she just sat there, looking dejected, not speaking. she left, shortly after, and took them with her. 'said she was going to start packing.

and i found myself just mad. which has unfortunately stuck with me the rest of the night. is it wrong that i find it entirely unfair and innapropriate that she would just assume she could bring them all into my home and we would be ok with that? and when we weren't, that it was somehow turned on us and i'm the bad guy?

this is combined with other things that have been eating at me and aren't neccesarily anything i need to talk about but i will.

i know she feels like her world has crumbled around her feet. and i've tried to give her space and love and encourage her. but there's a limit to what i can do for her. and i have. i really have. i accept people as they are, with all their baggage and bruises. i don't judge. and we all have loved her. despite the issues jason and i ourselves are dealing with. we've held her up and tried to pry her out of her depression. we've included her in our life and helped her every which way we can, out of love. and instead, we've had to work our life around her. bella can't play in her room when she wants to, because christy sleeps until she feels like getting up or she's laying in bed, depressed. she doesn't appreciate my rule of no smoking in the house but reluctantly complies. however, she thought nothing of bringing weed into my house, leaving her pipe in plain sight and then smoking it in bella's room. after morgan called me every name under the sun, for "taking christy's side", she continues to call here at all hours of the night and its gotten to where i just shut the ringer off when i'm home anymore.

where do you go with that? i get tired of shutting my mouth. i expect more out of the people i care about. i expect better. and i don't expect to feel like the wicked stepmother just because our life works a certain way and i ask that you pretty, pretty please with cherries on top, respect that.

she left, awhile ago. after i'd said we couldn't have the dogs, she brought back one anyway. so i bit my tongue, and hard. frank did manage to get over his initial heart-attack after awhile, and the night, tho awkwardly quiet, progressed as ok as it could. until she went to bed. she came out shortly after and talked to jason. said she couldn't stand to think of her dog sitting outside the door, crying for her. that she was taking him back to morgan. jason apologized, saying we don't allow any other animals in bella's room, so there's no accidents, no half eaten barbie dolls......he asked if sleeping on the couch where she could be with the dog would be better?

but no.

so i've been going around viciously cloroxing everywhere her dog marked, during his brief stay here. the couch, the entertainment center, the guitar..... and the more i scrub, the more the whole thing just makes me mad, dammit.

christy is better than that. she has to want to lead a better life than that. doesn't she? what better time than now, to get yourself healthy and happy and figure out what direction you might want to head..... yesterday she was talking about getting back into school...seeing if her credits would transfer. after i'd said my peace about the mj, she'd stopped. things were looking up. she got her depression meds switched and scheduled a time to talk to a counselor. and now i'm afraid that because of a dog, she's going to wallow in this hell that has been her life, some of which is self-made, and dive right back into the thick of it. she is haunted so much by her past. by the way she was raised and the fire and brimstone God she believes has already damned her. by her inability to accept herself, or her sexuality, let alone anyone else. she still mourns the loss of her first love and after 4 years with another, her morgan left her the same way as the first.

when she called me crying, so broken, i wanted nothing more than to be her safe landing. i know i can't rescue her, patch her all up and wave a magic wand. but i thought, maybe here, she could have some breathing room. time and space, to face some demons head-on. demons that she has been tortured by, perhaps her whole life. i've tried to draw her out....to talk about the deep things that we try so hard to hide.

but the thing is, she has to want to fix herself. face her demons. only she can answer for herself, the question of her being gay and her relationship to God. noone else can. people are going to condemn you in some way or another no matter what you do or who you are. but only you can know where you're at with God.

rrrrrrgh. and i care entirely too much. God help me, i do. so much for separating myself from the lives of those around me. she's just so incredible. so talented. such a beautiful, beautiful soul. i guess i'm just wondering at what point do i end and does God take over.

this too, shall pass

i feel blah tonite. the day started out well enough and has had its bright moments. but tonite i wish i could be held. have someone rub my back and run fingers thru my hair and sing me a lullabye. my stomach hurts....i think i'm festering the onset of a bladder infection and i don't know why. my feelings got bruised one time too many, today. my back hurts from long nights spent fighting for my space on the bed as well as covers. christy has been sleeping in bella's bed and for lack of creativity thus far, bella has been sleeping with us. when there's 2 of the 3 that like to sprawl out like porn stars, its not a comfy night. i miss being able to stretch out. at least the plus side to all this added commotion is that i've not had to endure listening to the neighbors. score.

i had the unexpected blessing of some extra money today, and actually got to go and buy some luxuries. things like shampoo and body wash and my favorite laundry detergent. that probably sounds silly to alot of people, but to me, its like christmas. when you live paycheck to paycheck, one small hiccup can send your world spiraling out of control and robbing peter to pay paul becomes a way of life. we risked everything for jason to take a job back in the late fall. a job that had awesome potential, along with the possibility for him to apprentice. but when winter set in, the work came to an almost abrupt halt, in what they termed their "slow season" and with that, our 2nd and much needed income. he went without a paycheck for 3 weeks. and that combined with an emergency oral surgery in february puts us right at a month behind in nearly everything. until today, its been months since i could actually fill my car up with gas. that made me immensely happy.

i hate money. i hate that it limits us. that to this day, it remains one of my biggest stress points and one of the largest obstacles in our relationship, as just such an overwhelming source of frustration and resentment. its such a struggle, trying to climb back up out of nothing.

its in those moments that i forget to be thankful. for what we do have. and i am grateful. i thank God for all the blessings we have. because despite all that we lack, we also have so much more than so many.

its just....sometimes, like tonite, i want to be able to cry. i feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders at times and i wonder who put it there...me? i feel like so much is expected of me...so many depend on me. and i feel spread really thin. out of energy. out of time.

is it selfish, sometimes, to just want to "sit this one out?"

so, to make me feel better, i'll take a moment to count my blessings. 'watched juno tonite. just as awesome as i'd suspected. i made a mean bbq and homemade slaw. i enjoyed the breeze tonite on my drive home. i found 2 new thrift shops and revisited an oldie but goodie. 'got some great buys, as well as some awesome material for all my crafty endeavors. and all for under $12. the one is only open mon/tuesdays and is $5 for anything you can stuff in an industrial sized trash bag. the 2nd is $1 per clothes item or again, $5 for a kitchen sized trash bag, and the 3rd is 50 cents an item. i found some really nice clothes for bella and christy, candace's girls and my nephews. and that always makes me happy.

it doesn't take much.

if you come to a fork in the road, take it

ahh, the great yogi berra.

since starting to go prematurely grey, one of my greatest words of wisdom i like to impart upon my helpless minions is this: pick a direction and go. i am of the belief that there comes a time in our lives when we all come to that great indiana jones crossroads and step onto thin air, in faith, or get crushed by a huge metal ball.

i should also mention here, that i'm not so great at taking my own advice.

so its 3 in the morning and here we are. jason fell asleep on the couch, watching celebrity auction. i'm guessing that wasn't on when he slipped into dreamland, but i woke up to thesound of auctioneers shouting over eachother, trying to sell randy jacksons shoes. it made me smile, remembering my uncle rocky's sales, as a child.

i will probably edit this later, as there are some poignant verses i'd like to share. but its late,and my mind and i aren't so tight, in the wee hours of the morning.

at church, this sunday, the sermon was simple and straight-forward. mostly a recap of the last series. my favorite part was done by alf. he held up a guitar and played the only song he knew: jail break. everyone laughed as he acknowledged he's crap at being musically inclined....that he can hardly keep rhythm and sing at the same time. he talked about those amazing musicians that can actually make a guitar "sing". he proceeded to question, "if you were a guitar, crafted by the premiere master designer of the universe.....where would you rather be. hung on a wall in a museum, so people could walk by and marvel at your pristine appearance and All That Is You....or would you rather be kept in your case, so there are no scratches, no story or wearing with time...or would you rather fulfill your purpose, and be 'made to sing'....?"

there was a reading in particular, that hit home, and was beautiful in its simplicity. the jist of which was, "all that matters, is that i love. that i don't need to understand. i don't need to have the right words, or even the answer. i need only to give myself, as a resting point, a safe passage, for God to do the rest."

yesterday was killer. i was soooo tired when i finally got home. i'd worked all weekend and had so much to do yesterday. christy had been out and about and she came into the bedroom sobbing as she collapsed on the bed beside me, and i wrapped her in my arms. "i feel like i'm having seizures again", she cried. "i get lost in my thoughts and the words that try to come out.....and i don't even know where i am, anymore." i'd told her earlier in the week, to take all of this one thing at a time. that everything is a process.

its ironic, i find myself here. and i try to take each day as it comes. try to be quiet, and patient, and Let It Be. to leave my life, as i know it, at Gods feet. not try to make sense of it all, or even understand. and it is a balance that is unfamiliar yet intrigueing.

i find myself looking curiously forward to my therapy session this week......

and i wonder at why are there no answers, sometimes. or too many, others.

christy comes into my life unexpectedly. i liked her instantly, when we met by circumstance, both beginning a training session in a customer service job. even then, i could feel her hurt. and sometimes, i wonder if i'm the only one that notices those tiny inconsistencies. the only one that sees the elephant in the room..... i bided my time. and into our 6th week, we were assigned seats next to eachother. it was a friendship, fast and strong, from there on out.

i am so very blessed and grateful to have her a part of my life. and i also question, at times, why it is, that i'm here, in hers. there are those around me, that find it unsettling, my friendship with her. but i don't see what they see. and i don't think what they think. i only know she is my friend. and i love.

maybe i have a very liberalist view on God and Christianity. and i can't explain it, but even that, is ok. because its mine, and thats all spirituality can be to anyone.

i believe God is a jealous God. but more importantly, that he is all encompassing. when Jesus walked the earth, He walked the hard and narrow, winding road. surrounding Himself with the life and people that needed him most. and He LOVED. despite who they were, or what they did, or which side of the tracks they hailed from. He simply loved. His closest companions were people road-weary, that had traveled long. and He made their journey, beautiful.

i think we all have a part in that. in helping to make the journey beautiful. in ways that we never even fully understand.

it is thru christy, that i've been forced to face some of my own demons. dig thru the closet of my past. question my own, as well as society's views on Being Gay. it is because of christy, that i've been given the opportunity to talk about some pretty big questions with my very little daughter. it is because of christy, that i am consistently reminded of Gods grace and acceptance, in a world that offers so little, anymore.

why is it, that its so easy to persecute those that are different. why is it, that we're so unwilling to take that step outside our comfort zone to listen to eachothers stories. to validate our hurts and our hearts.

i grew up in a christian home. attended private christian schools up until high school. i was active in the church, i taught in the church. i sang in the church. i believed in the church. one of my earliest childhood memories, was of playing in the halls of the 700 club, CBN ministries, where my mom was a secretary to pat robertsons office. i remember tiptoeing outside the small chapel and watching ben kinchote face down on the floor, praying. accepting Jesus into my heart at the tender age of 4, was nationally televised from our church, The Open Door Chapel. therewas a time in my life when talking to God was like breathing, to me. i attended bible camps and crusades and missions and revivals. at 12, i accepted the holy spirit. at 14, i was offered a recording contract thru my church. i ate, drank and slept it. all of it.

and years later, i questioned how much of any of that was ever my own. my own faith, my own understanding. or was it simply, What I Had Been Taught. were my views my own or were they the views of my parents, my church. not even neccesarily Gods....

i am forever grateful for the solid basis i had, growing up. but i think it is because of that and because of the Life I Have Led, that i question. that i am sympathetic to the stories we tell. i don't question God, but i question our interpretation of Him.

for a very long while into my adulthood, God and i weren't so tight. weren't "rollin so mad deep", as they say. instead, i was disillusioned and disenchanted. i dabbled in a variety of different things that i mistakingly believed Made Me Happy. maybe they even did, for awhile. it would shock my family to know this about me, i believe. they would be dissapointed. after all, i was raised better. i *knew* better.

all these things don't define me. but they have helped to mold my character, imperfect as i am. it is because of my life experiences that i'm willing to walk a mile in someones shoes.to reach out where i know i wouldn't have, before. i see the beauty in quiet simplicity. in not listening, but hearing. not looking, but seeing. and thru my own imperfection, i am constantly blind-sided by grace. and the need to show that to others. to prove that it is actually there.

i am ocd and worry entirely too much, about what you think and what i think, and what God thinks about it all. i have been in an open relationship. i have lived in sin. i've drank too much, lived too hard and cried too often. i have explored sexually, far more than anyone ever needs to.

i talk too much because i'm passionate about the things i believe in and love. the things that i've come to understand and the things i'm still trying to. i know what it is, to be confused about who you are and where you're going. i know about loss and betrayal and Being Broken. i know how it feels to be at your Lowest Point. i know about love and its many complexities. i know about divorce and starting over. about broken marriages. broken trust. broken hearts. i know the pain of losing a child, and how challenging and rewarding it is to raise one. i know about depression and despair. about longing to be heard and understood. to be validated. i know about being raped. i know about forgiveness and forgiving.

i know about healing, and the long road there.

and i believe all of that, is a chapter, an excerpt, out of the story that is me. my tesitmony, if you will. you wanna talk about purpose.... i remember a moment in my life. i had come to the end of my rope as i knew it, at the time. i found myself sobbing to a complete stranger in a church and amazed that she didn't turn away from all the ugliness that was me. instead, she held me. and told me that when i was weak, God was strong. that He couldn't very well use perfect people to do what He needed. that He'd forgiven me before i'd even asked. and this? right here? was exactly where He'd needed me to be. that the stupid, stupid choices i'd made, were for a reason. even if that reason was so i could understand where other people were coming from. maybe, when noone else would. in essence, walking His walk.

i am the proverbial simon cowell to your Happy Little Corner. i, at times, may be entirely out of place, and not at all delicate. but i talk about the things you're afraid to. and in the words of bill engval, you aaaaaaare welcome.

because life is not always delicate. its not always the white picket fence and we don't always end up where we thought we'd be. but yeah..... we're right where we need to be, right now...

i got in some movies, this weekend, between doing All It Is That I Do, during the long hours of the work night. Premonition, No Reservations, Love Actually. all good. all reaffirming my faith in love. and in loving what you have. they also provided me some good comic relief:

"noone's ever going to want to shag you, if you're crying all the time." ....and this, my friends, is why i love emma thompson.

i also watched "no country for old men". i loved it. and i'll tell you why. one line. "when you waste all your time tryin' to get back whats been took from ya, more's went out the door."

true. so true.

the truth is, having christy here, has not been so easy. for a variety of different reasons. i want to be her resting place. a stopping off place for her heart and mind. i don't have all the answers. and i don't know what healing looks like for her. i can't help her find herself or come to terms with who she is or where she wants to be. but if simply loving her is the one thing i can do so God can take over.....that, i can do.

beautiful

kim called, the other day. as sisters, we are extremely close. both headstrong ~ stubborn to a fault. tho we'd probably never admit it, we are also fiercely competitive and as different as east and west. as adults, its taken us a long time to get to a point where we can agree to disagree. more conversations than not, have ended in her absolute exasperation, at me. and i, in turn, am often disillusioned when hanging up the phone.

one of our biggest fights ever, was born of her simply asking my opinion. she feels i am entirely too open. too liberal. and i can't believe that the majority of life is black and white, when there is obviously so much unchartered grey area.

that's ironic, when growing up, we were so different. i was miss Goody Two Shoes. the one who took home-ec and learned to cross her legs at the ankles....to speak when spoken to, that dreamt of a Little House On The Prairie life. i did everything i was supposed to, while i felt like she got away with murder. noone ever suspected i'd be the one to elope, to run off to places like california and seattle and tennessee. to marry and divorce. to explore who i was, in relationship to myself, with people, with God. to get tattoos, to Go My Own Way. or that she would be the one to quit college, marry into a ready-made family and live on a farm. although we were cut from the same cloth, we are very, very different.

this said, she is also one of my biggest heros and strongest supporters. she is passionate about what she believes in. she is stubborn and proud, a gifted writer, an incredible mom, and an awesome woman. i'm immensely proud to say we're related. for her sake, at least. ha.

so she called the other day, to catch up. talk about the baby and such. and somehow...somewhere along the way, we got to talking about body image. kim has just had a baby, so her mind-body ratio hasn't quite evened out yet. i remember full-well,looking at my newly un-pregnated naked self in the mirror and tsk'ing.

one of my biggest pet peeves is women's body image. mainly, the lack thereof. we are always our own worst critics. and c'mon, everyone is entitled to their *days*, whether those be fat, ugly, bad hair, you name it . but it honestly makes me angry, to hear women downing themselves. or worse yet, other women.

for example. in my eyes, my sister is a beautiful petite blonde. she has the long graceful neck and legs that women kill for. her pre-pregnancy, normal size is like, a negative 000. maybe i exaggerate. just a smidge.but this is the woman that can actually buy clothes out of the childrens department.(gag). i think she got up to 83 lbs (ok, maybe more like 120 lbs), her last pregnancy. (again, gag).

I am anything but.

listen, i'm familiar with reality. trust me, we're tight. and i'm not about to make excuses for myself. i'm short and therefore entirely too heavy for my height and health according to medical standards. i have been my healthiest feeling, most comfortable and proportionate between 180-215 lbs. i can hang with a size between a 16-18 and be right near bliss. i'm also a ways' off from that. :ahem:

i have some thigh dimples happening. a little of the fat back. i have that bit of overhang pooch that comes with having babies. the double chin mocks me cruelly from time to time. my hair isn't as thick as it used to be. my skin not as supple. my badunkadunk, well, i never really had. thanks, aunt cheryl.

i don't exercise like i should and i'll be the first to admit if i don't put myself in check, i can easily lean a tad to the side of lazy. until recently, i've carried on a long torrid love affair with all that is soda. i genuinely want to see myself in a bikini again in the next little while.even if i'm the only one that sees me in one. i don't want health problems. but while i'm working on it,while i have room for all these little improvements, i'm also glad for what i've got. i don't forgo swimming because i feel the need to wear a one-piece. and i don't not wear shorts simply because my legs aren't perfectly tan and lithe.

and i think i'm beautiful.

i am proportionate and curvy. i've got some hips and kachongas happenin. i have beautiful blue-green eyes. i love my hands. my muscular legs. the curve of my back.

i think crows feet are an homage to a life fully lived. i think a mothers tummy is indeed a badge of honor. i salute all the women out there that seem to have it all together. lets face it. some hot abs is some hot abs. anyone who watches "workout" on bravo can shout halleluiah with me there.

but there's also something to be said for aging gracefully. the way we were meant to be. not to fight it, but embrace it. to me, there is nothing more beautiful than a natural woman, inside and out.

and no, by no means, do i mean just sit and rot in your easy chair. get up, move around. breathe. better yourself. be healthy, be active. live. but the woman that embraces herself and life full-on, with acceptance, love and laughter, is the most beautiful woman in the world.

we all judge. we do. we can't help ourselves. you see someone in the line at the grocery store in her house slippers with her hair disheveled, her kid with the koolaid stains spinning in circles like a scene straight out of "parenthood" and you're automatically tempted to assume things.

and, y'know.... not even the right things. you automatically stifle a disgusted shiver...after all, you in all the wonder that is you, would never go out in public looking like that. but you don't take the time to imagine that maybe she just got off a 10 hour shift, that she's exhausted, that everyone at home, including her, has sinus infections and there's no childrens tylenol left and the cupboards are bare. so here she is, doing what she needs to do while you snub your nose.

i for one, think that's wrong. besides.... that may have been me in front of you.

and no, this isn't one of those soapbox posts on society standards. maybe i'm just one of the few people left out there, that take people as they are.

maybe its because i'm not perfect. because at 32, i have yet to have my eyebrows or my woo waxed, i still don't know how to apply eye liner properly and i have the fashion sense God gave a warthog. that i still wear printed teeshirts, despite what stacy and clinton say on What Not To Wear. that in a group of peers, i often feel like the pregnant sow. that i don't know how cool a coach purse is or that shoulder pads really truly did go out of style in the 80's - i can "trust you on this."

i just don't understand how women can be so critical of eachother.

to me, its not ok to assume someone is from the wrong side of the tracks because of how she looks in a moment. i am forever inspired by women's beauty and the women who beat the odds and remind me i'm not so very different. that i am just as blessed, with the life i lead and the body that takes me there. the kate gosselins and the rosemarie siggins and countless others, that i think are absolutely beautiful inside and out. i think its so important to love yourself now, in this moment. to change, evolve, grow. but embrace yourself as you are. because this? right now? is a part of your journey. your story. so write it.

my body is not perfect. but it has seen me thru many triumphs and heartaches. it has been cherished, it has been pushed to the limit. it has been challenged. it has been raped. it has been reborn. my tummy is not perfect. but it has known the loss of 2 children and the joy of 1 living. my neck is not long and graceful but it has survived my first husbands near fatal choking, and it has known the joy of my song. my arms may not be as tight as they used to be, but they have cared and nurtured for countless people in my life, and my hugs are like christmas, birthdays and chocolate covered kittens all rolled into one. my hands, tho starting ever so slowly to wrinkle, have soothed a hundred fevers, have made a thousand meals. have grown, have comforted, have loved.

so if my face is my story, you'd better believe its a good read.

cheeky monkey

i had a dream last night that i & jason castro from AI were an item. this probably stems from lack of sex, lately, and my announcement tuesday night that i thought he was all that and a bag of chips. i had also asked jason if he would mind, terribly, if i used castro as my choice for a "backup plan".

anyway.

in the dream, we hadn't even made it to 2nd base and all of a sudden that floozy brittney spears runs off with him to vegas and next thing you know, they're married. and then he's feeling guilty, all the while making smoochy face with her all over the magazines. then AI wants us to sing a duet together because, wouldn't you know it, we're the best thing since sliced bread, and i'm all, "no way, he sucks." and he's begging me to sing just one more time and i'm all, "hell to the no, and filth and foul and such".

and then i woke up.

its dissapointing, really, when your erotica gets interrupted by morals.

***************************************

so christy was brave enough to tag along yesterday, in the never-ending nightmare, complete with The Number Nazi, that is the car-pool lane at bella's school. remind me to share that story one day. as per usual, after she'd plopped down in her seat, bella began to list her indiscretions of the day.

i always liken this to a train wreck. you know you're gonna hit, and hard, but something deep within compels you to speed up at the last minute anyway and just keep going. most kids would rather you pry it out of them. not so, mine. i guess she inherited my projectile personality, poor creature. she figures she may as well get it all out there on the table at once and let you sort thru the carnage. maybe she holds out hope that i'll miss something in the process....

yesterday, she received a red slip in lieu of the "thinking trail of doom" as the kids say. the school invented this little beauty a few years back, in effort to avoid the traditional punishment for bad behavior: sitting it out on the playground bench or better yet, being banished to your dungeon/classroom. instead, they can now walk the Thinking Trail, to think about their behavior and run off some steam.

i sighed and asked her what the red slip was for:

"not zipping my lip. and i know what you're gonna say, mama. but spencer told a funny joke and i couldn't help but laugh. you said we have to be nice to everyone so what was i gonna do, be a discrimination?"

i stifled a laugh, thinking abomination would have been more appropriate, but i give her props for the effort.

"bella, bella, bella" i began, "there is a time and a place. you could tell spencer later that his joke was funny. sitting there disrupting your entire classroom just because you don't want to *hurt someones's feelings*, is not ok. and blaming someone else for your kindness is not exactly what i meant when we talked about discrimination."

christy interjected: "you could be kind, quietly."

bella sighed and nodded, "i know." then she added, "do grownups get together and rehearse?"

one heartbeat at a time

with credit to ink on my fingers

"As I started to picture the trees in the storm, the answer began to dawn on me. The trees in the storm don't try to stand up straight and tall and erect. They allow themselves to bend and be blown with the wind. They understand the power of letting go. Those trees and those branches that try too hard to stand up strong and straight are the ones that break. Now is not the time for you to be strong ..."

Julia Butterfly Hill

i haven't talked much with my sister since the new baby arrived. i called one night while mom was still up, but the conversation was strained with all the overwhelming chaos that is life, as we know it.

i sent her these song lyrics in an email:

One Heartbeat At A Time ~ Steven Curtis Chapman

You’re up all night with a screaming baby
You run all day at the speed of life
And every day you feel a little bit less
Like the beautiful woman you are
So you fall in bed when you run out of hours
And you wonder if anything worth doing got done
Well maybe you just don’t know
Or maybe you’ve forgotten

That you, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time
Making history with every touch and every smile
Oh you, you may not see it now
But I believe that time will tell
How you, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time

With every “I know you can do it”
And every tear you kiss away
So many things that seem to go unnoticed
They’re just like the drops of rain
Over time, they become a river

You’re beautiful, so beautiful
How you’re changing the world, yeah you’re changing the world
I believe that you, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time

since i'm lazy, go check it out here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppOJkyYonIg

whenever i get too terribly overwhelmed, i try to refer back to erma bombeck: "Giving birth is little more than a set of muscular contractions granting passage of a child. Then the MOTHER is born."

i've always loved that one article she wrote after discovering she had cancer:

"If I had my life to live over, I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television - and more while watching life.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."
There would have been more "I love you's".. More "I'm sorrys" ...
But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute... look at it and really see it ... live it...and never give it back."

monday,monday

ahh spring. you harlot. you loose woman, you. where have you gone...

good morning, monday..... friday, to me. i love monday mornings. i come home and pick up after my hooligans, start some laundry and retreat to my bedroom, light some yummy candles and drop by online, to catch up with friends.

this weekend was uneventful. nice for a change. work flew by. candace called last night. and i don't know that i completed my assigment in closure but i said what i needed to say and i think that's all that matters. i'd prayed for the right timing and the right words. her call was out of the blue, really. so i'd say the timing was right.

finding that delicate balance in loving someone but seperating yourself from their life...their issues....in particular, the situation surrounding candace and myself, is something i'm working really really hard on, right now. its so easy for me to get uber-involved.... to dissolve myself into their chaos and take on their hurts, when thats just not my job....

'watched many episodes of jamie kennedy's "x'd". brilliant. simply brilliant. on the docket to watch this week: no country for old men, no reservations, premonition, the mist and license to wed. one of the perks of this job ~ the great movie exchange. 'hoping and praying, toenails crossed, jason gets his quarterly bonus this week, and juno will be next.

christy is staying with us for awhile.i'm trying to make this stopping off place as comfortable as i can, for now. and i hope she can slowly find healing. we're still in the awkward guest phase... i'm trying to pry her out from under the "may I's" slowly but surely.

bella came home with her first official *report* last week . following up their study on space, her class assignment was to write a short report about what she'd do if she lived on a space station in the future, then draw a picture of herself performing that job. they had the week to complete it but she wanted to get started on it immediately. she brought out her pencil and colors and spread out her papers on the kitchen table.

"mama, what are those people called that tell you what the people with other languages are saying?"

"you mean an interpreter?"

"yeah!! how do you spell it?"

i spelled it for her and had to admit she'd spiked my curiosity. her finished project was this:



my kid rocks your socks off.

the song of the broken.

as we lay falling asleep last night, i talked about where i'm at in all of this. what i'm feeling. where i want to be headed. he listened, quietly as per usual, and as i drifted off, i whispered: i'm sorry for what i've done and haven't done.

i heard jason said, "you have nothing to be sorry for".

but i think i do. i don't know where my marriage is. this marriage i was so certain of in the beginning. this marriage that has wandered far, far away in the past 6 of its 8 years.

i know only, that i want this one last shot in the dark. truly want it. to understand. to redeem.

blackbird singin' in the dead of night
take these broken wings and learn to fly
all your life
you were only waiting for this moment to arrive

today, bella's caterpillars arrived from http://www.insectlore.com/. she's been anxiously awaiting that package for the past 2 weeks, ever since her nana bought the kit for her at toys r us. i'm always a bit skeptical, bracing myself after a stay at nana's house and what new! exciting! thing/creature! will be accompanying her home. but i say that tender-heartedly, because despite my own issues, i'm grateful bella has that closeness with grandparents. i was almost giddy myself, opening the tiny box, just now, careful not to disturb the tiny painted lady larvae's little home. she'll be so excited when she gets out of school, to "make her butterflies".

it made me think of a song we sang during a christmas concert in bible school when i was a child: "angels, lambs, ladybugs and fireflies" i had to smile.

i had an epiphany yesterday. that all this lack of closure i suffer from in my life, is mainly self-inflicted. meaning, i'm the one that can't close that door. me.

its kinda hard to take.

christy called last night. so broken. her heart has hurt until it can hurt no more. and i understood the beauty in sometimes not having all the right answers. sometimes, having nothing to say. when listening, is just that. listening. i want to sing softly to her: "every little thing, is gonna be alright". and it will. and it will. but not right now.

therapy was exhausting yesterday morning. i sat, sobbing, for a moment, after we'd prayed. mildly perturbed by the awkward silence in the room, feeling surely she was obligated to present me with some profound wisdom after all i'd just projected.

instead, she asked me what closure looked like to me. and i hated to admit, but the truth is, i like order. despite the fact that i almost always invite chaos in to my life, in some way, shape,or form. i like things lined up in a row. preferrably in neatly wrapped packages. closing doors or burning bridges, without leaving a window open or at least a rope, seems so wrong, in my mind. why would God want me to do that. and doesn't that directly contradict his command of unconditional love? of hope or better yet, faith ?

the bible, at times, seems very contradicting. the whole "wise as a serpent, but gentle as a dove". or "God helps those that help themselves."

so what happens when you can't neccesarily "help" yourself....

i chose a christian psychiatrist because at this point in my life, i don't want to sit around and shoot the breeze on various me,me,me topics, the philosophies of "mind over matter" and "i am my only light" kind of stuff. you know, there's alot that makes sense in that.....in meditating, in freeing yourself and finding the hidden you. its actually why i find aspects of buddhism very pure in their roots. but i'm not religious. i believe in God and where my relationship is with Him.

so closure. closure, to me, would be k's asking my forgiveness. 'would be his admitting what he did. it would be candace's arms around me, saying: "i understand. I'm so sorry for what i've done.for how selfish i've been. "

but the truth, the very real truth, is that i may never see that day....

so where do i go with that.... am i justified in my pain? there's no question. but by holding on to that bitterness, i am retraumatized over and over and over again, in this vicious cycle that feels like a death to my heart.
i am only responsible for myself. for my forgiveness of them. for my realeasing them, out of love. it's not my responsibility to make anyone understand. empathize. listen. because they may not. now or ever. the bible says we are to love as God loves. to give grace as He has given it. to live in harmony, even to forgive those who trespass us. in spite of myself. despite everything they have done.

i went on and on about k's various indescretions and how angry it makes me, that candace doesn't hold him accountable for them. that they're not dealing with the real and now issues. that they're just covering up the dead bodies of their past without digging the grave. she said, "so candace, in your mind, is an enabler....is it possible that you, by remaining in her life, are enabling her? that in turh, no-one is really getting anywhere in that equation?"

well crap. and fudge ripple brownie and sons of stinkin' piles o' monkey nuts. and such....

if you ask me, i think we humans got a pretty raw end of the deal. i suppose that's why God doesn't ask our opinion.

but bitterness....it lies beneath our inability to forgive and be forgiven. in my mind, it is the cancer of our very souls. to paraphrase charles stanley, "the bitterness we nourish, stains every single aspect of the relationships around us, paralyzing with distrust, insecurity,a cloak of guilt."

the thing is, how can i talk about my belief, my spirit walk, the forgiveness of God, if i myself, refuse to forgive. what better example of absolute perfect grace, than God. than when he died for the lot of us. selfish, undeserving.

there's a quote: "holding on to bitterness is like drinking poison and hoping the enemy dies."

we tend to think personal circumstances are exceptions to the rule. that its justified. hebrews 12:15 says : "see to it that no one comes short of the grace of God; that no root of bitterness springing up causes trouble, and by it many be defiled."

that's really heavy.

and...with that said....if i forgive them, is it ok that maybe that is all i can do. that that in itself needs to be my release. that its ok for me then to walk away. to close that door.

i think it is. i do. i think that God thinks thats a-ok.

so there's this 6-step program:

write down the ways this person has offended you
make a list of your own faults
make a list of things you have done which God has forgiven you
ask God to help you think of that person who wronged you as a tool in His hand
ask God to forgive you for your bitterness
decide in your heart to assume total responsibility for your attitude.

that makes sense. its also easier said than done.

but i think i'm on that path. however slow. however long it takes to get there.

its funny...it took me forever to try and find a verse this morning. a verse that, as a child, held such significance to me. so much so, that even on my graduation cake, it was printed in frosting. it kind of put me in my place, to realize how long i've been gone from my relationship with God. it comes from Isaiah 43:1-5

i have redeemed you. i have called you by name and you are mine. when you pass thru the waters, i will be with you. when you pass thru the rivers, they will not overtake you.when you walk thru the fire, you will not be burned. for you are precious and honored in my sight. i love you. do not be afraid, i am with you.

while shopping the other day at the big dubb-ya, or "the walmart", as they say in the south, i was ogling the bathing suits, while visions of our beach trip swam in my head, when a pair of capris caught my eye. now i have never liked capris. never.ever ever in my life. but these. i actually coveted them. actually checked into a dressing room to try them on. bella plopped down on the bench and said "ok! you be me and i'll be you." i cocked an eyebrow and in my best *her* voice said, "ummmmmm this is gonna be a noooooo." she groaned, "maaaammmaaa". i laughed and pulled them up as she hung upside down and said in her best *me* voice, "ok!!now turn around. now to the side. and the other side. "awwwwriiiiiiight" ,she said. "you look faaaaaabulous!" and stuck a thumb up with a wink for emphasis. i said, "wow. my butt looks awesome in these! check out my butt dance!" and proceeded to sing "thats the way, uh-huh, uh-huh, i like it....." bella sat up straight and shook her head, disgustedly. "you are so crazy to be my mom".

crazy aside, i think i might just be doing alright.

have you SEEN what a gorgeous day it is outside?

'managed to get thru the work weekend, roughly in one piece. rented "dan, in real life". incredible movie. Must. Go. Buy. love the music, too.....sandre lerche is a genius. also watched: "i am legend". very intense. very sad. very will smith.

the universe has shifted. the p7 came home yesterday in a delightful mood. she took the dog out without being told. she took out both AR books and read them without throwing herself in a heap on the floor and writhing about in so much agony at the injustice of it all. while i was grilling, mind you. she then announced she thought she'd like to do her Entire Homework Packet. in one night. which she did. all 7 pages.

she got up this morning. by the alarm clock. on her own. she dressed,

brushed her hair and then came in the bedroom, bent over to give me a peck on the cheek and said "good morning, mama. i'm going to get some
applejacks for breakfast, ok?"

i'm still reeling.

either God is giving me the day off, or the evil prepubescent demons are sleeping in. either way, i'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

in other news. see this cute guy? adorable, isn't he. one would never guess that beyond his chocolate gaze and wrinkled t-rex paws, lies a dark plan for the deconstruction of my sanity.

week 2 of operation "puppy-pad meet outdoors" is going off like a lead balloon. i can't blame it all on his evil-ness-ish...we humans can be danged confusing. he loves to go outside. but the connection between the peeing and the grass has somehow short-circuited. somewhere between the hard-wood, yesterday ~ my left foot, and the front door.

le sigh. i may not survive.

the 'hood

i've worked the weekend pm shift a year, now, at my job. i work for the state, in the mental health field, taking care of 2 women with retardation in their home. needless to say, my sleep patterns, therefore, are eratic at best. its not uncommon for me to be up 36 hours straight, and counting, when i come off my shift, in attempt to gear up for the week in front of me. 'getting back to *normal* hours, as they say. this holds especially true in the summer, when bella is up @ the crack of dawn, raring to go.

i have a love/loathe relationship with our home. for a variety of reasons. mostly, i'm thankful that we have it. and every time we update another little nook or cranny, i fall in love with it all over again. i love this area of town. 'have wanted to live here for years. the neighborhoods are so inviting. the school is tops. the houses, gorgeous. so when we moved back from our brief hiatus in the midwest, this was my first drive-by. when i actually saw a *for rent* sign out front, i had to blink hard, twice, and practically slammed on the brakes for jason. i ran around front and back, trying to peer thru windows, and within the hour, was on the phone to the landlord.

its one of the historical houses here. a large 2-story that they made the unfortunate decision of splitting into 2 apartments, long ago. we would have the entire downstairs. the rooms are ginormous. enough so, to dwarf even our beloved california king. you could fit a hot tub and a full dance routine with ease, in the bathroom. it feels like a house, instead of just another apartment.

the landlord showed us bits of this and bits of that. 'mentioned the upstairs neighbor was a quiet college student. 'didn't even have a car. we should have "no problems with the neighbors". matter of fact, he didn't know how long she'd be there. we'd have the parking in the back, as well as a huge back yard, fenced on both sides.

the neighborhood is warm and inviting. alot of dog owners. we've got a good mix, from the yuppy middle-aged to the older, retired. even the newly remodeled frat house down the way, seems to be a pretty decent bunch of guys. for the most part, neighbors are friendly, bordering on interactive. shock!

as with any rental, there are ups and downs. i loved the hardwood. bella's bedroom had a decent plush carpet. the master had the cheap apartment carpet they put everywhere. unraveling at the seams. 'been here awhile. most definately had seen better days. the place needed alot of cleanup after the previous inhabitant: an outdoorsy bachelor and his dog. i found memories of his dog, all over the 6x8 carpeted portion of the bathroom. i could almost imagine the 2 of them standing side by side. :shiver: i made plans to put down interlocking wood laminate in that spot. the thought of stepping barefoot in there made me queasy.

at any rate, i'm a fixer-upper, by nature. we've always left a rental better than what we'd moved into. i have an eye for color and detail. jason's handy with a paint-brush. i deftly maneuvered a move-in deal: we'd do the cleanup. he'd wave the first months rent. on my 3rd trip to clean carpets after work one evening, i noticed neighbor(s). plural. for the first time.

when they split up the house, they initially had 2 entrances in the front. our master used to be the living room. at the time, i suppose it was the easiest way to get around the upstairs/downstairs dilemma, without building on a whole partition. they eventually saw the error of their ways and we now have our own side entrance. unfortunately, the neighbors still come up the front, right by the window which is parallel to the bed, which is 3 feet away. this, in itself, would not be a negative thing, if our neighbors weren't the type that come tromping up on the porch at 2, 3, 4, in the morning.

that night, while scrubbing away, i was amazed at the amount of traffic in front of the house. cars pulling up. girl running down the stairs and to the car. cars driving off. girl running back up the stairs. repeat. hmmmmmm.

we quickly learned there was not just 1 but at least 3 girls living upstairs. and if they were college students, then i'm a size 2 blonde. our initial futile attempts at neighborly friendliness went off like a wet rocket. we were completely snubbed. they even ignored my child. :gasp:

the noise was unbelievable. as was the traffic in and out of their apartment, like a revolving door. it was nothing for them to vacuum at 3 am. or to hear someone banging on the door at 4. 2 months after we'd moved in, jason had a rude awakening one night, while sitting outside. six undercover police cars pulled up at once, like a scene from a movie, and surrounded the house. two officers came up and began asking jason questions. did he know this girl. what were their patterns. what was the landlords information. jason peeked out the front window and watched as they kicked open the door and eventually brought out the oldest girl in handcuffs.

there was no activity for over a month. then one night, we noticed a light on upstairs. one of the girls had returned. then, two.... our peace was short-lived. they were back. and with a vengeance. the noise resumed. at least 2 men had now moved in as well. there were arguments. police visits for what i can only imagine to be domestic disputes. we called animal control one morning when we were awakened by the frantic crying of a puppy, stuck halfway between their bannister and thin air.

and then, they started throwing food out a side-window. at first, i ignored it. it was mostly bread, potatoe peelings, etc...but then it was grease. running down the side of the house. i'd had enough, one day, when i came outside to walk kodah, and there, scattered all around our front deck, were strips of raw chicken. later, that same afternoon, it was what appeared to be an entire loaf of bread. i calmly came inside, grabbed a plastic grocery bag and some gloves and scooped it all up inside the bag, then tied it neatly and sat it around front on the bottom step of their porch. in my mind, i thought this was the nicest, quietest way of dealing with the issue. i hoped they would get my point. i had avoided talking with the landlord up to now, because both jason and i were more the laid-back type. live and let live. but this bordered on ridiculous.


instead, i watched from the living room, as 2 of them walked around the house, laughing, pouring the contents from the bag in the exact same spot. i headed for the door in oh no you just didn't mode as they ran off, jumping in their car. by this time, i was more than just annoyed. they sat, watching me pick it all back up and carry it out to the garbage. finally, one rolled down a window and hollered "we like to feed the birds!"

wow. they could speak.

i walked abit closer and said, "that's cool...we feed the birds too. its just....could they maybe please toss their scraps in the vacant yard beside us?"

she shot back: "its just bread, lady."

"well. no it isn't. i've got a little girl and a dog that play outside. you're throwing cooking grease out as well as raw meat. I don't throw my trash in your front yard.

they replied with "we like to feed the birds!!" and spun off in a peel of giggles.

the next day, there was a note in our mailbox, written in big, bubbly letters, telling us we were "annoying", and that they'd "never had neighbors like us."

i responded with a very kind but to-the-point letter, myself. i apologized if we'd been annoying and gave our phone number in case it ever happened again.... that we certainly didn't want to offend them. i asked them politely, if they were aware how loud they were at all hours of the night. i reminded them, gently, that the landlord was only aware of one tennant, not 5, and that we had been kind enough not to bring their numerous police visits to his attention.

i received a note the very next day, apologizing, and thanking us for not involving the landlord. she said she was 6 months pregnant and that she'd made bad decisions in her love life but she was a good person. that the police were always in her business. she said they'd stop throwing out their scraps and they'd try to be quieter.

for awhile, that seemed to solve the problem. things weren't perfect, but i recognized and appreciated their attempt at trying. i realized she'd had the baby, one day, while taking out the trash. i saw a bassinet box in the alley. my heart went out to her. i'd since discovered she lived there with custody of her younger sister and a toddler we had never seen. half their rent was paid by the state. they are on welfare and she goes to school part time, in effort to keep all of this. i had a sneaking suspicion they were selling something extra on the side.

for about a week, i tossed the idea back and forth, whether or not i should leave a little peace offering on their doorstep. maybe some diapers. maybe a gift card. in the end, i decided not to. but there are those moments when i think we truly miss out on the bigger picture, simply because we choose not to step outside our comfort zone. this is one of them.

shortly after the baby arrived, a new man did, as well. he seemed nice, actually spoke to us in passing, and seemed friendly when he stopped at our yard sale in the spring. but it wasn't long before the fighting started again. one night, bella and i were laying in bed reading an AR book for school. jason was outside with one of his buddies, working on his boat, when we heard what i can best describe as a piano being thrown off the deck onto an oncoming car. we ran outside just as the guys came around the house. there was no piano but alot of screaming, spilling out in to the street. jason immediately dialed 9-1-1 and police were there within minutes. as soon as they pulled up, however, every light upstairs went out. they refused to answer the door and we were left standing there scratching our heads, along with the officers.

its unfortunate, they are the one dark cloud on this street. unfortunate, all the more, that they live on top of us. because i have the ears of a bat and i sleep so light anyway, their night time routine is a great source of aggravation for me, and over the past months, i've gotten to where i actually need a sleeping pill a couple times a week, just so i can sleep a few hours, rather than minutes.

last night, i was woke up around 2 in the morning by screaming and banging upstairs. eventually, they made it downstairs and onto the street. him, half-naked, and her, chasing behind him with a blanket. it took me forever to get back to sleep. today, i go between feeling she's so incredibly stupid for repeating this pattern over and over, and then feeling sorry for her because she's so obviously being abused in some way, shape or form. i wonder if she honestly doesn't know any better. i worry for the safety of her 2 small children. and i wonder what my place is, in the process, so that i'm not just another bystander that has failed her.