a little sand between the toes

my packing is almost done.

my house is almost clean.

my laundry is almost finished.

and miss kitty is soooooo ready for the beach. viva la 'myrtle.

miss me much.

smooches.

rain, rain go away

did i mention something recently about dayshift being da'bomb?

you're welcome, for the ignorant stupidity i like to spread around. i send it with love.

i spent most of my waking hours today walking around soaking wet with the delightful downpour we were blessed with down south. i got to fix breakfast and lunches and change adult diapers 8 x's, 3 of which were poo. i got to load and unload and load and unload $500 worth of groceries, label every single item,divide 30 lbs of various meats for the freezer, start a roast in the crockpot, change 2 beds worth of pee sheets, clorox and sweep and repeat and take out 6 bags of trash. i got drooled on and pooped on and the wire popped out of my bra.

theeeeeen i got to pick up bella from the crackhouse, err, boys-n-girls club, (don't EVEN get me started on this one) only to discover on this, the SECOND DAY, she already got the priviledge to write " i promise to listen and not talk while staff is teaching" 25 x's and had lost her id card. she then chose to cop an attitude and the demons exercised their right to take over her mouth until supper time.

i made supper and did 4 loads of laundry and doled out punishments left and right to the creatures underfoot. and then there were the pets....

i have absolutely nothing packed for the beach and am feeling fatter than ever and i'm tired and my foot hurts and i need a shower and a new pair of tennis shoes.

blargh.

anniversary gone wild

dudes. i mean, dudes.

you all know how i like to wax eloquent around here.... how i can talk for paragraphs. but my heart isn't in it for the long haul tonite and i'd rather enjoy my fluffy cloud feeling anyway. i had a whole *ode to marriage* blog rarin' to go, and then the resident red-head around here, borrows the computer to play *hello kitty*, and all my hard work? it dissapears like a fart in the wind.

so i'm just gonna let this one fly. sometimes there are no perfect words or pictures captured. sometimes, ya just gotta be there.

its really ree's fault over on pioneer woman . i spent over an hour one early morning this week, catching up on her how-we-met romance novel, and then i felt inspired to share a lil somethin' somethin', myself, about the guy that's been squished beside me on the couch, or velcroe'd at my hip for the past 8 years. or some such thing.

anyway. happy anniversary to us, today.

we've done some livin', in the past 8 years. and when i say livin', i do mean livin'. there have been some very real moments when both of us wondered if all those years were so worth it. but the truth is, i can't imagine anyone else in my life i'd rather have spent those 8 years with.

so here's to the guy that still likes to get lost with me on our *pick a direction and go* dates. that never tires of "punch buggy". the guy that still tags along to thrift stores with me and still puts up with what men like to call the "walmart dance". here's to the guy that still makes me giggle and melt and feel warm fuzzies. whose hugs make still make everything all better. here's to the guy that still understands my obsession with things like frogs and orca's and flip-flops and the continued search for the perfect mop. who still buys me pickled herring every year for my birthday even tho the smell of it makes him gag. here's to the guy who patiently and deftly maneuvers through 10 pillows on the bed every night and secretly loves the fact that i make him eat green vegetables. the guy that will pause "pinks" just to get me a moo'latte from dq.

jason, this one's for you. love you, love me.

this last week was awesome.

having a day job is da bomb ~ i woke up excited every morning this last week to go to work. i got thru training and registration and financial aid and the end of the school year and mountains of laundry. david c. won AI. we went fishing and taught our 7 year old the fine art of the illegal outdoorsmen. well she didn't know that. in my defense, she bores easily, so who better to keep lookout for the forest fuzz with the binoculars. its $9 a license just for one county. please. can i hear an amen? even God's gotta be down with me on that one.

also, a strange man peed on my couch. in jasons defense, it was a coworker of his that got thrown out of a bar and unfortunately was still able to read a phone book. in my defense, it was my COUCH. it is my sincere hope God has a purpose for these moments, beyond just a kick and a giggle at my uncontrollable eye twitch. i do wonder, often, why we end up being that safe place to land for these people that manage to wander into our lives. i'm considering installing a baptismal booth in the spare closet and inviting a little of the holy ghost to our couch, to help the "spirit come upon them".

anyway. after much, much aggravation saturday morning~ my first weekend off in centuries, spent trying to clean an entire couch... lets just say i wasn't so blissfully excited when jason suggested for an anniversary treat, a romantic getaway to all that is saturday cruise in night a few miles over. after all, bella was at nana's for the night, so why not celebrate now, you beautiful magnificent sweaty woman that hasn't showered or fixed her hair!!

see. we made an oath when we got married all those 8 years ago that we'd do something different every single anniversary. so here's a good time. sit down with your beloved one night and try to remember what you've done with those past few years. then compare notes. and laugh. rinse, repeat.

here's the cliff notes version of our celebrations:

year 1) we're at a total loss here. we can't remember nothin. neither one of us can agree, so for the sake of the blog, i think we were still basking in the awesomeness that was us and being dirt poor and probably swore that we needed nothing but just eachother or some such m'larkey and ate ramen noodles in bed, popping a bottle in bella's mouth and watching a special on "amazon tribes" on pbs.

year 2) was the year we "branched out". jason spent much of this trip reveling in the fact that i can't tell east from west and had me convinced we were going to georgia just so he could show me spaghetti junction. anyway, i was still drunk in love and we drove 8 hours to atlantic beach, nc, which is marvelous, may i just say, and one of the little known wonders of the world. but we spent a day driving there just to spend a day in the ocean and on the way back, landed at a $20/night motel with no a/c. however, that little get-away was still pretty spectacular and still rates right up there on my all-time favorites list.

year 3) continuing with the beach idea, myrtle beach, sc was the *it* place. this was the year we discovered we'd actually married on a) a recognized holiday and b) black biker weekend, and enjoyed 3 hours in a traffic jam on our way to our "beach front hotel" that was "15 minutes from the exit", the whole time me mourning the fact that i was not born with a badunkadunk. however, all was not lost. i got a killer whale boogie board with which we got properly sunburned at so much fun in the sun. we learned you should never eat at a seafood buffet and that the free zoo is a great little secret and the crocodile park was pretty cool too. this was also the year we discovered the miracle that is TGIFridays food.

year 4) boone, nc -blowing rock. i love north carolina. that is all. anyone that ever has the chance, should head up that-a-way. its gorgeous and the little tourist town there has the best vibe. so many fun little shops and nooks-n-crannies and eateries. best crock ice-cream ever.

year 5) hot springs, nc . again, i love all that is north carolina. we totally got lost on the way there, which is really sad, considering its less than an hour away. we stopped in this town that's smaller than MY hometown and i got this bad "blair witch project" feeling from the old timer that gave us directions. but as it turns out, getting lost is a blast. we drove past waterfalls on the side of the road and discovered this mysteriously huge, ginormous dillapidated mansion out in the boonies. and the natural hot springs baths? like buttah. one of my favoritest anniversaries ever. we spent $20 to rent one of the mineral spring spas and then $30 for a motel room at the alpine inn down the road, that was like sleeping in your mom and dad's spare bedroom but with the comfiest bed ever. we had free hot tea at the little what-nots shop across the street the next morning and ate chinese off a rickshaw cart.

year 6) nebraska in all its glory. we went to kearney and i got this gorgeous celtic heart bracelet at the one store over by that flower nursery. earl may? kim, help me out, here. and jason found these kickin' shoes @ the refind thrift shop. then it was off to grand island where we spent all day at the water park and even got a hotel room with a pool. and after getting properly water-logged, we ate at whiskey creek steak house and its my opinion that all of you need to put both of those on your to-do list.

year 7) gatlinburg, tn. we figured, why not. this was our one default cop-out, considering how close we are. but it was still lovely. because people? you can't not love gatlinburg.

year 8) tri-cities, tn. one of our most inexpensive, spontaneous, most fun anniversaries ever.

so anyways......the looking at the old cars and such. woot. i wasn't in the mood, did i mention? also. do you know how hard it is to clean an entire couch? but i sucked it up and went and then i realized how cool i was. err, it was. jason was in his element and serenely, immensely happy.

and then they ran out of bratwurst, so whats a girl to do but mention how cool it would be to go to the movies and waaalaaaah, jason got a great idea.

first, we stopped here at the most wondermous bbq shack in the world . think "fried green tomatoes" secrets' in the sauce, only without the gross inuendo that they'd bbq'd some dude. this is hands down my most favorite bbq spot in the whole entire world.

and then. just in the odd case you're still interested in following along, he took me to my very first drive in movie theatre ever . dudes. this thing is awesome!! $6 for a double feature. and you can bring your own food. heck, you could wear pajamas! and you can totally make out in the car. i'm hooked. we watched the new indiana jones flick and the iron man. and i have decided i must have one of these. when i retire, i'm totally buying one of these drive-ins. watch me.

anywhoo.

jason. you rock. here's to 80 more.

keepin' the sabbath

dear God.

its me again, margaret.

i'd love it if you could grant me the serentity not to throttle hope tonite at work. perhaps she could get the 24 hour laryngitis?

that is all.

i'm feeling just a teensy defeated today.

by the time 8 o'clock rolled around this morning, i was not in a very church-going-mood. i'd just spent the night with what is to be my replacement trainee, *hope*. and my cheerfulness had all but gone out the door within the first 2 hours, with me kinda feeling knocked down at every pass.

i quickly discovered hope has been with this agency for over 9 years, so as she followed me around, i relaxed with the notion i wouldn't have to really detail any job specifics and was chatty, handing out my little tips and tricks of the trade for this particular house, when she informed me quite rudely that since she's "worked here so long, she thinks she knows what she's doing. that she doesn't even want this shift, and why is it again, that i am choosing to leave, making her take this?"

it was about that time that *flow* decided she really didn't care for this *hope* person at all, and refused assistance from her in any and every capacity.

:le sigh:

the fact that she's worked here for over 9 years, came up many, many, many-many times during the course of her stay, mind you. so in effort to dodge her sharp tongue thru-out the night, i tried instead, to redirect the conversation. her accent was almost french, and i wondered where she was from. we have many african and sudanese care-givers within our company; several of them, refugees. i have found so many of their stories simply amazing. she shared snippets with me: her husband is an international doctor and she herself is in her last year of study to be a urologist. that this job has simply been her income along the way.

everything i did was "ridicoooolous." it wasn't neccesary in her mind that i do hourly checks, that i provide such detailed documentation. that i clean every night. that the ladies get up so early in the morning. she blamed *ebb's* eratic sleep patterns entirely on the fact that i check on her thruout the night, insisting i am "waking her up". she had followed me around all of an hour before settling on the couch with her laptop and by 10 pm was asleep, and chose to sleep off and on until about 4 this morning. when she did wake up, it was to stare a hole straight thru me and make yet another rude comment about the way i "do things".

i tried to buffer all of this with gentle responses. "we all do things differently". i was "sure she'd settle into her own routine". "i just try to follow the company guidelines". etc....

without going into any more detail, i was entirely humbled by the time daylight rolled around. my feelings had been hurt and my spirit not a little bit wounded. she announced 2 hours before the end of our shift that she had a headache and was going home. and i hate to admit it, but the ornery troll in me wanted to shout "good riddance".

i've come to care very much for *ebb and flow* in my time here, and have taken great pride in helping to run their little house. i know its silly that i should feel put out by one persons' opinion but lets just say it would be an understatement to say i'm not really looking forward to my last night on the overnight shift, with her in tow.

a fact that is possibly even more rotten because she insists upon watching CNN all night long, when we all know i could be catching up on those crazy Kardashians or Kenny vs. Spenny.

blaaaargh.

and then my m-i-l, whom i love and adore, incidentally, woke me up this afternoon to inform me that i'm not doing nearly enough about bella's ibd issues and that she'd like to take her to the doctor herself this week, due to my busy and hectic schedule.

do you ever feel like some days you've been duct-taped to the principals office chair?

thankfully, church helped me even some of it out. the praise and worship slowly melted away the stiff joints and sour attitude i'd entered with and we had a great sermon this morning, along with guest speaker *kadeer* who is involved in campus crusade in our church and hails from east congo. he is such a beautiful and honest soul and had such an inspiring story to tell, detailing the 2 lessons he'd learned in particular: that trust is trust is trust, when it comes to God. and that it doesn't matter what you have. its what you're willing to give.

also this little tidbit:

"there are 5 frogs on a log. 3 decide to jump. how many are left?"

the answer is 5. because the deciding and the doing are entirely different things.

that speaks maybe more to me than anyone else right now, but i'm glad it did. i like those little
heart-tuggers from time to time.

this helped abit today too:

every gift is a trust placed in human hands by a holy God and it is up to each individual to develop the integrity, humility, and work-ethic to know what on earth to do with it. A gift never guarantees success. In the long run as well as the routine day-in and day-out, those with the grit to just keep doing the hard thing will often prove more effective. Gift without grit is a dang waste.

but i think i could do with a hug, all the same.

it comes in threes

so we made 136 big smackers @ the yard sale yesterday. 'sat out there wheelin and dealin, whilst freezing my toes off. coldest day of the month so far~ so strange, for tennessee. and yet i managed to pull off a sunburn? bella guilted more people out of 50 cents for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, than was probably acceptable. i see CEO in her future. after asking her to sort thru her toys the other day, she'd come up with 4, count 'em, 4 items to put in the sale. she'd sworn that everything else in her room was sacred and that she couldn't live without them. i let her price the items, with her biggest seller a $2 tea-set.

my favorite moment was when a family with 4 kids pulled up. i'm not sitting on this side of easy street myself, but there was just a feeling i had, that things were hard for them. they quietly looked around and the 3 boys climbed back in the car with dad, while a little imp trailed behind her mother. she headed straight for bella's princess tea set and scooped it up in her arms. her mom shook her head and she gently set it back down and then walked back to the car.

bella had been watching the whole scene and whispered in my ear, "mama, can i give them some cookies?" i told her she'd need to ask permission, so she skipped up to the mother, who hesitated, then nodded. and bella cheerfully distributed cookies to the excited kids in the car. as the mom neared closer to our table, sifting thru clothes, i asked if her little girl had liked the tea set. she shook her head, visibly uncomfortable. "oh noooo. no. its fine. no."

i asked, "are ya sure? cuz she can have it, if you like." she looked almost incredulous and blurted out, "for free? you're giving it to her?".

bella jumped in and said, "yah. i know she'll love it cuz i've got lotsa years outta that puppy."

with my unladylike snort and, lets face it, with that kind of logic literally draped across her feet, the woman almost smiled and rushed to her car. her daughter jumped over the seat and scrambled for the tea set, hugging it to her chest, and ran up to bella to say thank you. she proudly carried it back to the car against the loud exclamations of her brothers, insisting she had to buy it. and with a defiant, "i don't hafta!" she giggled and settled in the front seat as they drove off.

that made me unbelievably happy.

i don't know yet, what my decision will be with school. registration is this monday. but i feel surprisingly "ok" right now. i've had a plethora of *tiny instances* in the past 2 days. i'm thinking. and praying.

yours are appreciated too. this helped a nice bit this morning. as did this ~ seeing the 3rd way where you can ....makes me feel not so quite alone. here's hoping you all have a wonderful weekend, filled with all your favorite things. this will be my last work weekend for the summer, at least. i plan on enjoying it.

1 am spazztastic

uuuugh. i'm so tired and sore. i've been awake since 5 am and it seems ridiculously cruel that its not even midnight yet. i covered for cindy's shift with flow today, baked 9 dozen oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, tagged yard sale items, made beef strauganoff, cleaned closets, rearranged appointments, made other appointments, had 3 big humongous conversations with my all-time favorite rottenous, headstrong redhead. aaaaand, i remembered all my vitamins. plus i drank a soda.

alright, two. fine, are you happy?? its been one of those days.

but my husband got a ticket on the way home from hauling my rabbit cage off to his grandmothers so i can make the big bucks tomorrow. and no, not for speeding. for being in noise violation. thank you very much. did you get that? and i knew he'd been pulled over before he even got home. he called, as he always does, and mentioned he was by such-n-such and he'd be home in a jiffy, did i need anything. 15 minutes passed and i'd just sunk into the soft, cushy couch to rest my feet when he walked in and headed straight for the cigarettes and i knew it was all downhill from there.

{yah. for those of you keeping up, there's been a re-write of the official rules. operation "cold turkey" lasted about as long as i do, watching the PGA's. so instead, we're role-playing. wink,wink. eh. i wish it were so sordid. its more like i get to play nicotene nazi to his emaciated pow with the twitch}

but baby steps. baby steps, my pets.

anyway. we all know how he's nearly deaf. i swear on a bible i can hear his bass from 2 miles away on his way home every day. so this was inevitable,yes. and stupid. did i mention stupid? a $95 fine for listening to xm talk radio too loud. i'm disowning him, effective immediately.

in brighter news, i feel you should know i watched an awesome "nanny 911" episode about foster parents with 23 special needs boys. it blew my mind . seriously, check out their page ~ awe-inspiring. i sat right here and cried.

also, i'm officially addicted to anything with gordon ramsay.

and dude. on our local fox news station, referring to the topic of next weeks AI finale, ' they actually just uttered the phrase "its gonna be a real barn burner".

dooce ? my daughter pronounces crayon "crown" too.

and now for the downer.

after all my hard work yesterday....all my water drinking, vitamin taking, good livin', i think i slapped it dead in the face in the space of 5 minutes, managing to put away 3 dill pickles, a handful of prezels and a cheese stick.

{insert slam-head-on-keyboard-now }

while jason slept blissfully unaware, not 6 feet away, i was having a midlife crisis over here. at 1:39 am, i sat bolt right up in the bed with the realization that school means eighteen months. thats eighteen months of mondays thru thursdays taken up from 6 am until 10 pm. of not being there to help with bellas homework and school projects.

she'll be in the 4th grade before i'm finished.

not to mention that my daughter and my baby daddy butt heads ferociously. there is no such thing as gentle understanding and patience when it comes to those 2. and i've tried to cultivate that relationship. i really have. but nothin' doin'. its something i don't pray about nearly enough, really. i think dads underestimate the important significance they hold in a daughters life. and the thing is, i can't do that for him.

anyway. i think to myself, what exactly am i trying to do, here. not only will i not be here but i leave the 2 of them flailing around with 2 hours left out of the day to make dinner, do homework, go to bed. but we'll always have the weekend?

so i sat here and cried, is what i did. big, ginormous crocodile tears. and today, i think i've mostly kept busy so i haven't had to think about anything in depth. i've wondered why and for what purpose am i striving to do this *thing*. for a better life? meaning, more money? i don't know that i want this. in truth, i don't know that God's given me the thumbs up on it either. and i don't know that the difference between me or the ability to afford things in life, is what i need to give of myself. to me. to God, my daughter, my husband.... there's the whole "if not me, then who. if not now, then when." but where do you draw the line. and when is sacrifice just plain not worth it.

i'm so bloody indecisive right now.

the thing is, there's so much more back-story than i can ever delicately weave in mere words here. the main jist is that i've sacrificed whole years of my life... years spent running in circles and running to catch up and running away. but is it wrong and selfish to want this time with my daughter..... to contribute, but to do so by being here.

i try so hard not to be, but in truth, i'm so jealous of the stay at home moms out there its not even funny. i envy the time they have with their children. in bella's nearly 8 years of life, i've had 8 months of that experience. i've lost out on so many powerful and pivotal moments in her life.

nothing hit harder than her first mother's day in school. she was so proud to show her homemade flower pot to me and when i hugged her and thanked her for her beautiful work of art, she said, "oh but mama, its for nana."

because nana was who she knew. and this is something that still haunts me to this day. i'm not over it. not by a long shot.

i've discovered that thru circumstance, i'm not the mom i thought i'd be. and i mourn that loss. the woman i am, is not the girl i was. tho i struggle so hard to "trust in the Lord and lean not on my own understanding", i fear i've become very jaded. the girl that loved to put herself out there and teach and love passionately and had the patience of job, now shy's away from these intimate dealings. i know i do this out of fear of becoming attached because somehow, i've always been yanked away.

so how do i get those principles across to my daughter.... how do i help her know she is beautiful and brilliant and empowered....that learning and educating and growing her character is so important, that leaning on God is everything. that chasing her dreams is imperative, when i myself feel so weak and defenseless. when i feel as tho my very efforts are thwarted at every pass.

i'm reminded of my dads advice to us, his daughters, that we "needed to be able to take care of ourselves. because we could meet the man of our dreams and he might be gone tomorrow and where will we be if we've depended solely on him." yet he was a contradiction in terms. my mom has never had to work during the course of their marriage and we grew up in a time and place where the man was the head of the household.

i think sometimes, i traded one extreme for the other in my 2 marriages. despite truly unbelievable circumstances, the 26th of this month, jason and i will be married 8 years. sometimes i think we've done more living than some spend a lifetime getting at. there have been many, many joys and blessings. and there have been deep wounding scars. more to do with what we brought to the table but laid underneath. and years later, tho we're healing, there are still gaping wounds still needing to be dealt with.

i know everything is a process. but right now, i'm struggling with getting over those moments when i feel i'm free-falling into oblivion. call me selfish and stubborn, but this is what it comes back to: my strength. or lack thereof.

i want to be held. i want to be covered in warmth and love and light and allowed to rest. to truly rest. is it simply that i don't trust God enough? or is it truth, that no matter the love i have for jason, this will always fall on my shoulders. to make these decisions. to change the course of our life. to bear the brunt of it all.

and is it wrong that i'm angry because of that.... that its not fair, because he's not brave or strong enough to take that place in front, that i must be the one to make these changes. jason is such a beautiful and loving soul. sometimes he is pure childlike innocence. and while those glimpses warm my heart, i'm discouraged that he prefers to never grow. that he is content in this state, with me being at the helm. when what i'd like most of all, is to let go of the wheel and wherever the waves toss, there am i.

i know jason is just a man. and its ok for me to want more from my husband. but i also know he cannot be my everything. he can't be my rescuer. only God can.

so..... i don't know if i want to get my lpn. there, i've said it. the whole purpose in this, is to be my stepping stone into my heart's dream of being a doula. and i tell myself that i can never afford to be certified without a decent income. that i'll never show my daughter disneyworld, let alone afford all her field trips at school or a copay when she gets sick without the money it takes to do so. and i tell myself that even if i never realize my dream, at least i can always find work as an lpn, no matter where i go. and we would have, for the first time, something that has eluded us to this point: financial security. i do have moments of near excitement to do just this. and then moments of absolute uncertainty.

but i digress.

i don't know the lesson here yet. this unchartered territory. there are solutions, yes. i could switch back to working graveyard shifts and go to school during the week. i would literally have no days off but i'd be here for bella. and i could finish in a year as opposed to those dreaded 18 months. i could learn to be still. and find myself 2 years from now happy that i did. or i could find myself still struggling to stay above water, regretting that i didn't "chance"

so this is where my head is tonite. an entry begun as fun and ending with my heartcry.. sometimes, i wish the answers were more forthcoming. but thank you for listening, all the same.

i'll leave you with plumbs "in my arms". as a mom, i find it a beautiful song. but i like to imagine them Gods words to me as well.

Your baby blues
So full of wonder
Your Curly Que's
Your contagious smile

And as I watch
You start to grow up
All I can do is hold you tight

Knowing
Clouds will rage in
Storms will race in
But you will be safe in my arms
Rains will pour down
Waves will crash all around
But you will be safe in my arms

Story books
Are full of fairy-tales
Of kings and queens
And the bluest skies
My heart is torn just in knowing
You'll someday see
The truth for lies

Clouds will rage in
Storms will race in
But you will be safe in my arms
Rains will pour down
Waves will crash all around
But you will be safe in my arms

Castles they might crumble
Dreams may not come true
Cause you are never all alone
Cause I will always
Always love you

in the middle

i love coming here in the morning, to this little community of friends. to learn and laugh and cry and journey with you. the fact that i'm not nearly as learned or funny or eloquent as those i link to, doesn't deter me in the slightest. i figure i'm wicked marvelous in my own right. and i'm forever grateful for each and every one of you that share with me a window to your world, reminding me i'm not so all alone around here.

now then. while i'd love to regale you all with the story of why you should always, always change out of your nightgown before dropping your child off at school, i will, instead, sit on my red face, errr, bum, for the time being.

anyway. that seems more a bedtime story, so we'll save it for later, mm? meanwhile, i'm trying to decide what i think of these new supplements mom sent. i think i see the point. they give you heartburn from hades, along with that not-so-fresh pregnant feeling, thereby erasing any glimmer of any notion that you might be hungry. this could shave a few pounds by the reunion. it could happen. a girl can dream. etc...

i managed to get much accomplished yesterday....discovered i should qualify for my grants, which will be a godsend. i'll put in my application monday. i also spent a good bit of time enjoying conversation with my 2 picks for my midwifery immersion; one in nashville, the other in asheville, nc. i think if i keep my focus on my ultimate goal, this *stuff* in the middle, won't be so hard. won't seem so long. i loved a journal entry i read not so long ago by blossoming soul , celebrating being *in the middle*

'managed to get just about everything out and marked for the yard sale. jason helped with the hall closet last night and we had fun pulling out all our summer goodies. mostly, he labored over the boogie board and antagonized the cats with the fishing poles while i sorted. at any rate, i've got a nice little pile, succesfully stacked and purged, and can officially look forward to friday. weather permitting, i'm hoping for a good turnout. mama needs a day at the beach.

i also cleaned and organized bella's room. thoroughly. i do this periodically. mainly so i can find the lost underwear and where my tape measure has gone and to see if the frogs need more water. but i think i also do this because subconsciously, i am painfully aware that there will one day sneak upon us, adolescence, and with it, the incensed "mooooooooom. give me some privacy!!" and my days of decluttering will be over, replaced instead with peeks into a room filled with angst-ridden diaries and posters of hot young popstars with facial piercings.

don't think for a minute that her door will slam before i loudly point out that i haven't had privacy in 15 years. but still. while there's still groovy girl dolls and littlest petshops to collect, all is good.

after i've thrown out wrappers and tossed in laundry and sorted thru school papers and organized her bookshelf, i sometimes find myself randomly brushing a dolls' hair or looking in her *special* boxes under her bed. she has two, and it always makes me smile to go thru them: little bits of paper, rocks, a movie ticket, a shamrock necklace from st. patty's. sometimes the items make no sense. sometimes, i'm touched by what she's deemed "special".

and while i get alot of slack from people about going thru her school papers and deciding which to keep and which to toss, i do not, however, just toss out her special things.

we have this ritual, when her boxes become overstuffed. she finds a large branch outside and decides which items she wants to use to decorate her *blessing tree*. i like to imagine i'm imparting a time honored tradition in the delicate and freeing art of purging. i'm sure, for her,its just a fun way to spend 5 or 10 minutes. she picks a spot to "plant her tree" and then decorates it; when finished, we take a picture. generally, it stays up a day, and then, so the neighbors won't start talking about the crazy people that have adorned their yard with a lightbulb, christmas bow, neon yarn and what looks like anal beads, the tree is dismantled and the items lovingly thrown away.

some special items stand the test of time, and i'd like to think that one day, like me, she'll have narrowed it down to just one box. but that she'll enjoy, like me last night, peering into that box from time to time and smiling at the memories.

she had fun helping me make calzones for dinner, which were scrumptious, might i add. and at bedtime, jason joined us for her devotions and story.

when she was fast asleep, he and i lay talking....about our days....about life...how i need to shave my legs....our wild little child. i wondered aloud what she'd remember from this age. we joke, often, how she has the memory of an elephant. but i wonder if she gets that from me. although i do well to remember what i ate for breakfast nowadays, i can recall so much from my childhood. actually, as early as two.

i remember my mothers friend cb spencer who always reminded me of "websters" dad, George Papadopolis (Alex Karras). i remember tru and ethel. our pastor.the layout of our apartment and my kindercare. i remember my best friend rufus and taking him in the bathroom to wash his "dirty face". hanging upside down on the monkey bars and seeing an orange furry tarantula. i remember mount trashmore and kings dominion. i remember playing on the beach, running from the crabs. how my friends' skin turned mahogany in the sun. i remember playing in the halls of the 700 club and ben kinchlow's kind face. summers at the rothchilds, playing in the quonsets. how grandma washed my hair so rough, yet years later, i miss that. waking up at 3 in the morning to go fishing with grandpa garold.

and later, i remember my stepdads feed and trucking company. how john would let me ride on the dolly, sneak licks off the salt blocks and then slip me gum. how hale would let me sing him songs on the truck. i remember the little playhouse dad made me. calling the operator when i couldn't zip my pants. my first dog, charlie. the smell of lilacs on the side of our house. uncle keith chasing my pigtails. the steam from horses mouths on my cheek.

all of that and so much more....and we're barely up to the tender age of 5.

my childhood was far from perfect. while i was very blessed and proclaim much of my growing up years as a camelot of sorts, there were also moments of profound darkness that would shadow me years later.

but these things.....these happy things make me smile.

so tell me, what bright memories from your *middle life* bring a smile to your face today?

momday,momday

here's hoping all you moms out there had a lovely day celebrating with the miniature people that helped give you that title.



i had a wonderful mothers day. it maybe wasn't exactly what i'd anticipated, but i wasn't dissapointed. i was reminded more how the simple stuff is sometimes the best stuff....

i had this whole "ode to mom" blog on my mind.... instead, maybe i need to actually just finish that letter she asked for back at christmas. i guess i hope, one day, i'll be just as awesome in my childs' eyes. she always seems to know just when i need her most.

i have random things on my mind. also, i'm very tired. but good news: bella has officially graduated to chapter books in AR. toenails crossed that one day soon, i'll be catching her under the covers with a book and a flashlight. its been a long time coming, folks.

this may or may not have been my official last late night weekend @ work. thats exciting and kinda scary, too. the long hours of this morning were spent deep in thought. 'round about 3, at work, i start to zone out so i generally start to talk to God then ~ it seems a fitting time. i probably win the prize for all-over-the-place prayers. the funny thing is, i never really finish one. its kind of an on-going dennis miller monologue.

after thanking God for blessings, i ask forgiveness for not being as perfect as i like to think i am. and the rest goes something like this:

hey, God. its your favorite pal. so decided to take the day position at work. i asked that you'd tell me flat out yes or no. we all know how i don't like to be specific with these kinds of things. and after my devotion tuesday night, i felt like you probably couldn't have been more clear if you'd have flown a blimp overhead. but still i question: is this really what you want? i think i want it.....i'm excited but scared spitless at the changes that will take place. all those things that i continuously put off yet appreciate the fact that i'd have the time during the week to complete said tasks if i actually wanted to, will be no more.....

but how do other normal moms swing this kind of thing. what do you do when the school calls and your kid is sick and you can't immediately go to her. it makes me wish all the more that we had more of a connection in our church community. and then i wonder....will i be able to apply in time for my lpn? will i pass the pre-test? i don't know that i really want to do this at all. i don't know if i have what it takes, after all this time. i'd like to be passionate about it....i want to do what i want to do. everything is a process and i try to remind myself of that. yet, will i be able to survive 18 months worth of school? is this really what i want? its in these moments i get so tired of feeling like the one to sacrifice and come up with a back-up plan around here. wondering when i get my turn on the merry-go-round. its not that i'm complaining. i'll pull my part.... i always have. i just get tired sometimes. 'wish the lesson didn't always need to be so hard.

i need to register bella for summer schedule at the boys and girls club. i'd like another baby if we could fit that in the next 10 years. the inlaws are taking bella to the beach, the end of this month. i was so jealous when they asked if they could take bella. more so because i wanted to be the one to show my daughter the ocean for the first time. not that we have the extra money to plan that kind of trip. its just the point. yet again, another first that i've missed out on, ya know? i'm grateful for the opportunities bella's been blessed with, despite our shortcomings. and i know in the big scheme of things, there are worse things i could pine away about....but anyway. over the weekend they invited us along....all we'd need to cover is half the gas and our meals there. i'm dying to go, but financially i don't know if we can.....i'd love it if you could help out in that department.

also. would it be terribly bad to ask you for a $5000 loan to officially get out of debt? i know its huge. it seems like such a small number in the big scheme of things. seems almost reachable. but it feels virtually impossible. anyway, maybe things don't really work that way upstairs ~ is manna still the heavenly exchange? just in case, i'd like to claim that 5 grand if you could swing it. after so many losses...so many hits along this path, i just get really overwhelmed with the climbing back up sometimes. it'd be nice to have that clean slate. i get weary of this one thing being the prayer of my heart.

i don't want to talk to any of them, yet wonder how christy, candace and melissa are doing. i miss friendship and wish that we had good close friends. i miss bbq's and late night card games. making candy at the holidays. someone to shop with. a girlfriend that calls just to chat. i wish jason had a buddy...a good buddy.

i'd like to go camping this summer.

some days i wish that we hadn't moved back from nebraska. i don't miss the chaos and the fussing and fighting. but i miss my family. i miss my 6 month stint of being a stay at home mom. the red barn. walking bella to school. i miss corn fields and going back in time to a quieter, more simple life.

i wish i didn't screw up so much. i wish i was over the rape. and i wish forgetting was easier than forgiving. i wish i wasn't so tired. i wish we weren't the waterfall and money wasn't the thousand foot drop.

and why do we go thru a roll of toilet paper a day?

and then i watch marathon episodes of john and kate plus eight, and life doesn't feel nearly as complicated.

friday reviews

lord, are you gonna be grateful you know me today.

for those of you interested in how kat spends her pay-days, twice a month, allow me to illuminate:

first, imagine a rabid, starving squirrel. next, imagine a field full of nuts....

sadly, that's pretty darned accurate. because these 2 fridays out of the month are the best 2 fridays of the month!! when we actually have ! money ! to buy crazy things like groceries and gas, and pay bills. aaaaand, if i'm lucky, i have just a little left over to pursue guilty pleasures like a thrift shop or a new domestic gadget or a frappucino or, like today, being savvy, baby.

i have an addiction. its called clean floors. and with the family and critters i live with, i am kept constantly on my toes. jason bought me this handy schmandy swiffer wet-jet for christmas this year. i remember the day well, because i dragged him to 3 different stores in effort to get the best price. anyway. i love it. but who knew you had to buy refills. sheesh. also, we have the stupidest tile floors in the universe, so my search for the perfect mop has become this huge, tragic saga in my life. i'm pretty sure libman owes me a share in the company. i've tried 'em all. so, my beloved swiffer does wonders on the hardwood portions of the house, but it mostly scoots dirt around in the kitchen and bathroom. and because the swiffer is so enormously fun, jason and bella can't stop themselves from *helping* me to mop, therefore using up my $6 box of 12 refill pads way before i'm prepared to buy another box. oi, at the hyperventilating.

until.

i got a bright idea. see, the swiffer wet-jet has a velcro-type bottom. so i went to the dollar tree this morning. i bought 3 double packs of microfiber cloths for 3 bucks. i came home. i cut them into thirds. i slapped one on the bottom of my swiffer and presto-yes-kat-you're-amazing, it works. aaaaand hoooow.

cha. ching.

next on my list was to find an indestructable dog toy.


this is my dog. el stupido the destroyer. our living room is contantly littered with the carnage he's wrought. nothing is safe in his mouth.


this is a kong. this is what i finally bought after 23 minutes worth of sobbing in the fetal position in the 2 mile aisle that is dog toys in petsmart.


this, is what i like to call a match made in heaven. 1 hour later, its still holding up.

i. am all that is awesome.

fire on the mountain

in effort to make myself feel better about the raging fire thats moving down the mountain not 4 miles from where we live, not 2 miles from bella's school, the blue haze that has settled thick in the valley, and the scent of smoke permeating ever so slowly inside, the title of this post has a 2-fold meaning.

at least one of my readers (maria) may remember a certain margarita party from yester year, whereupon approximately 15 or so women gathered secretly under bean dip and tortillas and the guise (maria?) that we were doing something proactive, learning the art of spousal massage only to recoil in hushed horror as our guide(s) for the evening were ~ how to put this delicately ~ not exactly what we'd expected.

i think i managed to pick up at least one tip from that evening. possibly two. never touch tequila again. and the quote, "wherever 2 or more are gathered"? i don't know that God neccesarily meant women. i think perhaps that verse could've gone with a re-phrase. you've heard the old "when women plan, God laughs", right? and the party remains, to this day, one of those things. that which must not be spoken of...

anyway. while the actual fire is not in the slightest controlled, rain is on the way and they're still holding off on evacuating, having moved in 2 more *hot shot* teams from the 2 surrounding states, working feverishly so we don't have to.

so meanwhile, i have other things to concern myself with. like, hoping i don't get stuck with an enormous fee for not mailing my direct tv boxes back in on time. or the loss of jason castro (although merited) in my life, or waiting for the locksmith to show up and rescue my stupidity. always make copies, kids. ok? always. and then, just in case you don't, always get the additional protection on your insurance.

you'd think bella would be tickled pink that she gets to spend some extra valuable time with the tv and cartoons this morning, but no. instead, she's irritated that she'll be missing a magical day in the 2nd grade.

wonders never cease.

as an aside

in talking with my mom just now and lamenting the fact that i cannot make up my fool head about much to do about nothing, she blithely asked what my decision with work was then going to be. exasperated, i said, "have you not been listening?!! i'm trying to tell you i don't know whether to scratch my watch or wind my butt!"

{subliminal movie reference. guess which one without googling and i'll give you a special !surprise!}

if i switch to dayshift, this could handicap me later on, when fall classes start, if i go full-steam ahead with my lpn. they have night classes that take 6 more months, but will that utterly exhaust me 4 out of 5 days of the week. however, actually having weekends off.....

argh. someone please make up my mind.

"well", she said. "just don't let me hear you've lowered yourself to exotic dancing. "

"yes, mom. *heifers and udders*. that'll go over good at the reunion."

homegrown

dudes. do you remember chris sligh ?? he totally has a cd out. did you know this? we heard one of his songs on the radio on the way to school this morning and it was actually pretty good. i immediately squealed, "thats chris from american idol!" and bella processed this. "oh yeeeeeah. he had the red curly 'fro!". she chuckled, in her old soul way, and sighed, "i miss blake ,don't you?"

guys, is it sad that my 7 year old is a seasoned american idol aficionado?

i'm so depressed. i had it all mapped out.....today i was going to Find Answers ! Get Results! and instead, at 10 in the morning, i still sit in front of the computer screen, wondering if maybe i could just go back to bed....i still don't know what decision to make about shifting positions at work, despite my list of pro's and con's. and thats this ginormous ticking clock with every passing day. i'm totally frustrated with all this college business. for one, i feel just a little bit silly, being in my 30's and just now officially walking down this road. for probably the first time in my life, i felt literally stupid in a phone conversation. with admissions just now, i think i actually made a fart sound over the phone, followed up by a "dude, i need help".

ok, so here's the thing. i'm not a convential type of chick. if i had it my way, i'd be living in a roughly hewn cabin, walking around barefoot, tending to my herb gardens and eleventeen children. i'd live close enough to 4 major things: trees, mountains, water (preferably ocean) and walmart.

i most closely relate to the era of the tudors, prairie pioneers, roaring 20's and the hippies.

i did well in school. i did very well. even exceeded, a wee bit, dare i brag. thanks in part to good genes, school was easy for me. i got straight A's and the only class i ever had a hard time in, was algebra. hello, my arch-nemesis, mrs. lockman. that said, i despised school. to me, it was just drudgery, simply biding my time.

as a child, i wanted to do 3 things. be a mom. get to broadway. study marine biology. i got the mom gig and i figure i can always make it to broadway and they'll still never know what hit 'em. you're never too old for broadway.

the marine biology thing was soured by 2 things -no- 3

a) the realization that i wasn't gonna get the chance to swim with the orcas while living in nebraska {i wasn't so great at thinking outside the box, back then. who knew you could actually go to college in other states!}

b) followed up by a conversation with my birth dad at 13, telling me it was a stupid, childish idea and i needed to pursue a real education.

and c), that i wasn't brave enough to overcome the other 2.

in high school, college didn't interest me in the slightest. i hated that inevitable conversation at my graduation party. all those well-meaning folks that wanted to know what i "wanted to do with my life". i had no real answers. i knew i wanted to *be* something, but what. all i knew, was that i wanted to do something with my hands. i wanted to make a difference; to dig in. i wanted to feel fulfilled. i loved things like entertaining and all things natural and roads less travelled. i had a soft spot for children and the elderly and the mentally impaired. i always had abit of an interest in the medical field and was 99.8% done with training in medical transcription when i eloped with my first husband and threw it all out the window. i'd found the courses in biology and the human body fascinating. and even then, that was my step up, the way i looked at it. it could get my foot in the door to bigger and better things.

somewhere in my mid 20's, the souls' prime time for self-discovery, i landed in seattle. and for the first time in my life, i was inundated by all these ideas. that it was actually *ok* to not neccesarily walk the beaten path. to go your own way. that this was even admired. honorable.

i discovered there were actually jobs out there for non-convential chicks like me. imagine!!

but what to do. what to do with all that crazy information! because non-conventional generally means non-accredited. you don't neccesarily get your BS in under-water basket weaving, if you get my drift... and with that, you also don't generally get student aid. so money was gonna be my biggest issue.

but i decided i wanted to study massage therapy and become a certified doula. to me, it was the perfect marriage of all my hopes and dreams and ideals for a career i could get up and love in the morning. and many bumps and hiccups later, i had worked hard at normal jobs and had the money in hand to go to school.

and then jason up and quit a job, the day of. i walked out of there with a grin from ear to ear and my loan papers and the joy that i was finally doing this,and that night, i was weeping on the floor. when days became weeks, i again wasn't brave enough or smart enough or strong enough to keep on truckin. the thing was, i knew i couldn't pay my student loan and support us too, so when its the choice of your dreams or milk for your baby, there's no contest. its a bummer. and its reality. and its called not consulting God, in your plans.

so anyway. fast forward to now and everything happens for a reason. for some, i think we have to spend a few years, in that ultimate jacob vs God rib-crackin *wrassle*, as they say in the south. but i'd be lying to say i'm not just a little put-out that its taken me this long.

i'm procrastinating, really. even now, i tell you!!

so my point is, jason and i sat down, some while back, and talked. really talked about where we're going and what we want to do, when we grow up. what we're doing right now, in jobs that don't ever get us ahead...where we're barely treading water and even that's nearly drowning us. and yes, sometimes, that *patience* and learning to be *content in where you're at and what you have*, is indeed an important lesson. but when its been beat over your head a few too many times, you kind of get to a point where you figure having a game-plan might not be a bad idea.

the thing is, i don't want to be here, in this place, struggling. i want a better life for us, out of this financial frustration. when bella has an ear infection or jason needs a tooth pulled, i don't want that copay to be the straw that broke the camel's back and then spent it spiraling into oblivion. 2 years from now......5 years from now.....i don't want to be in this same position. what made that hit hardest, was the realization that the end of this month, we'll have been married 8 years. and for the past 8 years, every year we tell ourselves at some point that "next year it'll be different".

guess what.

if life had a degree program, i'd have so many letters after my name that i'd be over-qualified. i think i almost have my associates' in street smarts. in my 30 plus years of living and my 3 and 8 years worth of marriage under my belt, this girls' done alot of livin', kids.

and, i'm kinda tired of getting knocked around. so what better time than the present. the thing is, some of those obstacles from before? still kinda there. so how do i step that up and still go after my dreams, this time with God in tow.....

so i have absolutely not a blessed, flaming thing figured out.

i mentioned to my dad yesterday that the idea of spending more than 2 years in any kind of school is repulsive to me. it literally makes me want to throw up. he laughed and said i might change my mind, once i get started.

its funny, the older you get, how your parents make so much more sense, isn't it? they're actually probably grateful that you finally make more ~ that its about time! which is probably a small reward for the effort they put into you....at any rate, i enjoy those random grown-up conversations just a little bit more, every time we talk.

its also cool that they become just a little more human...a little more hip.

my step-dad, in my eyes, is my dad. he's the one that's been there, in my life. the one man that i tend to subconsciously compare/judge other men against. he is not a perfect man. but in my eyes, he will forever be one of the good guys. he is one of the most honorable men i know. he does the right thing. he has spiritual and work ethic. his handshake is as good as his word. he's a true country boy , and, one of the things i admire most about him, a dreamer. he could sit down with anyone and find something to talk about. never knows a stranger.

as a child, i was always just a little jealous that my sister, 7 years younger, was his *real* daughter. i always felt maybe just a little less value, and hung back just a little bit more. but he never made me feel that way. in his eyes, i was instantly included. instantly his daughter. he has never once introduced me as his step-daughter. not once.

i called mom back last night. she'd left a message yesterday afternoon lamenting her new drivers license photo, saying 'if ever there was a mugshot of the year...well lets just hope we don't see her on "cops" anytime soon'.....

dad answered the phone, surprisingly. he was home on a fluke ~ a load due out today. right out of school, dad went into the airforce. and when his tour was up, he then went into trucking. he's one of the few people i know, that actually gets up in the morning and enjoys going to work. he thinks thats important, no matter how long it takes you to get there. he's driven truck from coast to coast, and for over 40 years now. i've often thought he would be the ideal trainer at one of those large companies. the wisdom he has saved up under his case hat is incredible.

we shot the breeze for abit and then he sighed, "ahhh lord. i guess i'll hand you over to your mother. she's convinced we're in for a tornado over in such-n-such county. i told her its at least 3 hours away. so she now feels 3 hours is just enough time for me to plant a garden. i want you to know this could've been divorce proceedings but for the fact that i enjoy most of what comes out of there my dang self. well, all except for the beets. i could do without the beets. but i don't know that i want to sign the amount of paperwork you'd have to sign, to list beets as your irreconcilable difference. soooo, what're ya gonna do. ya win some, ya lose some."

to be or not to be

i've returned 3 x's here today to this, my comfort zone. sometimes, i feel writing is the only one and true thing that makes me feel whole. validated. heard. it is my voice in the void. my thoughts and prayers and confessions of a soul broken, tattered. torn. but healing. surviving.

this is the one place i feel i have breathing room. enough space to slowly let it out.

let it go.

i used to frequent a certain tennis court when we lived in california. i seemed to have a knack for showing up when it was vacant, and i always breathed a sigh of relief when i rounded that corner. at such a challenging time in my life, that piece of concrete was like the span of the ocean, in my eyes. it was mine, that space. i could run up and down the court, at my pace. i could slam the net again and again. i could sit, in the cool of the shade.

those closest to you don't always want to hear that sound in your voice. the sound that tells them its one of "those days". its hard to listen to pain and easier to wax over the complicated confusing details of life, replacing it instead, with the normal and the mundane. and here, in so many words, i think there is a kinship. here, where the broken-hearted come to speak.

candace called late the other night while i was at work. i was in the middle of mopping. 'stopped mid-stride and answered "hello".... her voice was on the other end. as it always does, my throat
involuntarily catches when i realize it is her.

we talked for well over an hour that night. inevitably, the conversation always turns towards k. she mentioned she'd gone to a ballgame with an aunt. between innings, this particular aunt shared bits of wisdom on her understanding of the balance between love and loss in marriage. and she'd made the comment to candace that the day she'd finally realized her marriage could be salvaged, was the day she recognized that she didn't need to be there. but that she wanted to.

candace said she wasn't sure if she was there yet. at that point. and surprisingly, i was able to understand that. often, when she calls, i'm transported back to the tender age of 15, standing in front of my stepmother, 80's bangs in my eyes, her hands on my shoulders. pleading with me to " give your dad a chance. he's not the same man...." the rest of the conversation always trailing off there in my mind. where i ceased listening, instead only remembering the hurt. the pain and betrayal and abandonment and abuse. he could never be any different, in my child-like mind. it has been the same, when candace brings k into our conversation. as tho she is silently begging my understanding. my acceptance. my forgiveness, in spite of.

she needs me to share in this journey, because of the tainted connection that brings us here. because noone else ever can truly understand. there have been so many instances along this road where i've wanted to slap her dead in the face. because her husband raped me. because he single-handedly tore apart lives and marriages and simply walked away. because she chose to stay. because she loves him in spite of his indescretions, his affairs, his addictions. because she needs so desperately for me to validate her pain. her struggle. her story, tho she incapable of doing the same for me. finding the objective in the face of such crappy circumstances, is not so easy, my friends.

i mentioned to jason that we'd spoke again. he took a long, deep breath. "what did she want?"

i answered simply, "she wanted to be heard."

i haven't needed to be caught up in the thick of her issues. there are moments when i've wanted to point out in detail, the obvious flaws to her fairytale. that i know far too much about this life. this betrayal. about lies and sex addiction and actions gone too far and demons not faced.... that i've been there.

i haven't needed to hear her hurt and anger. to deal with hers, on top of my own. after all, its not fair. its never been fair. it will never be fair. i was the one wounded, yet she's the one that cries.

but its funny, after all this time, that in the process of me letting go. of turning it over to God. of forgiving....my own needs to be heard and validated and justified and defended have slowly crept away. and i'm left, not with the need, but the want to just be here.

oh, i have my days. i always will. its a daily struggle to remind yourself to just be. in the moment. in the now. to trust when that trust is no longer sacred. when that trust is broken.

and i realized this, the other night, as i let her talk. i found myself somehow grateful for this understanding, along this road that has been so painfully traveled. it is what it is. and if i hadn't had the grace of people willing to listen to me along my way in life....well, i don't know where i'd be, today. i recognized it in the coming home from christy's the other night and admitting to jason that i wanted to be here.

not to need, but to want. and it is a powerful thing. one that makes all the difference in the world.

the bad news bearer

jason arrived home from the scrap-yard tonite, pulled off his boots and then desecrated my bed with the clean sheets by plopping his filth and foul right down on top of it.

"reckon i should take a shower?"

"why no. i'm sure there's a dryer sheet hiding in one of the pillowcases. you could just roll around in peach blossom scent. "

so we fill in the cliff notes versions of our days while he still lays there and my eyeball uncontrollably twitches. he then declares he "has an announcement". and would i "like the good news or the bad news first."

i have never liked these particular words coming out of his mouth. we've been down that road far too many times. usually its followed by the announcement that we're back down to one income or he's brought a boat home.

but because i am nothing if not a glutton for punishment, i close my eyes and whisper, "the bad".

"ok. here goes. the bad news is, you're probably stuck with me for the rest of your life."

i pry open one squinty eye as he continues, "the good news is, i've decided to quit smoking. and no, not that 'i'm gonna try to quit smoking' or 'i'll give it another whirl', crap. i'm officially quitting. cold turkey. as of noon today, i've smoked my last one."

i now turned to stare at him, long and hard. finally i nodded. "thus, the bad news?"

"aaaaaand how" he rolled over and gave me the twin borat thumbs-up. "so i personally would like to take this fleeting opportunity to thank you, in advance, for putting up with the apocalypse that is undoubtedly now upon us. "

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

still. its better than a boat.

maybe.

decisions, decisions

bella's concert "simon says" was cute. she had a speaking part and was one of the dancers.' had a ball. my favorite line was when they were trying to reach mary magdalene as a witness for the trial of simon peter. a little girl pulled out a cell phone and dialed, then got this recording: "for hebrew, press 1. for greek, press 2. to continue this call in english, remain on the line." then, "i'm sorry, but the person in your samaritan network is outside the service area". :)

usually the hours between 2 & 4 in the morning are always the worst at work. my cleaning and paperwork is done and my ladies are usually asleep. so its hard to keep myself occupied quietly. but this weekend i discovered a new channel: theN. have you seen this? its sad, really. kind of like watching a train wreck~ you can't pry yourself away. i watched copius amounts of the series "degrassi". man, they cover everything on that puppy, don't they..... i don't quite remember high school that way.

i was also offered a different position in my job over the weekend. a position that i've secretly and not-so-secretly pined after for quite some time. mostly, i never really expected it would come available.

i've mentioned before that i work for the state in the mental health field. my proper title is *dsp* or direct service provider, as i work in-home, one-on-one, with adults with mental retardation. so as to not out-dooce myself , (yet coincidentally, please do read her latest newsletter to her daughter, leta.) i will never share names or intimate details. but for the sake of my sanity, i will share their stories, from time to time.

i work with many different recipients but primarily in-home with 2 ladies that, for story-telling purposes, i will call ebb and flow.

i've always had an interest in this field. even as a child. i was lucky enough in my jr.high/high school years, to have lived next-door for a time, to a director of just such an organization, who included me on outings, and then actually chose as one of my electives in the 9th grade, to spend 2 hours out of my day, working in an adult day-care facility.

its not a job for everyone. in many aspects, its a very thankless job. and it doesn't make me any more special, that i can hack it. its challenging and rewarding, yes. but its exhausting, humbling and just plain hard, many days. it's not pretty. not delicate. i've heard the term used: "glorified butt wipers" on more than one occasion. and yes, there's that too. plenty of that. trust me. but i signed up for that when i became a mom, thanx. i feel i'm now quite immune to the embaressment of the loud "I POOPED" declaration in a crowded store. never-mind if it comes out of my 2 year old or my 70 year old.

there are days when i feel like i've used up every last ounce of patience i can muster, in this line of work. so much so, that i wonder sometimes if i have any left by the time i get home and my real life sets in.

so this job offer, although really tempting, is also one i'm on the fence over. for those of you pray'ers out there, mama could use a lil' sump'n sump'n this-a-way.

its easy for the crusader in you to overshadow your own well-being sometimes. and for awhile now, that's kind-of how i've felt. for any small hurdles this field has climbed over, there are mountains more, to be moved. we've come a long way since abusive institutions. but the ratio of discarded people out there to caregivers is staggering. its almost painful to realize how many get lost thru the cracks. every single day.

you become their voice. their staunchest supporter and defender when they can't speak for themselves. you rejoice and sorrow with their achievements and the very raw emotions that sometimes they can only communicate thru you. in a world where people pass in and out of their lives like a revolving door, sometimes your presence is the only stabilty they have ever known.

you hold their hands in the hospital as they lay dying. you clothe and feed and comfort them. you're there to take care of them thru holidays, birthdays, when they're sick and afraid. you accompany them to family events when their families can't deal with the effort it takes to do so. you love them.

ebb and flow are lucky enough to live in their own home, provided by the state. they have round the clock staff. both cling ferociously to routine and are as different as night and day.

ebb will turn 51 this month. tiny and precious. born blind, she never ceases to amaze me with the clarity of her other senses. she has an affection for rain, country music and reece cups. she will repeat the same phrases over and over in the course of a day: "looks like rain." "i've been good, hadn't i?" "i feel better now" "you tell my mama?" every time, she expects your response.

she will tell you 50 x's in an hour that she loves you.

she is an accomplished pianist, having never read a line of music. she recognizes voices she hasn't heard in 15 years and calls them by name.

flow is the meanest ninety pound 72 year old woman i have ever known. institutionalized for over 30 years of her life, i have seen it it take 3 women and 2 grown men to hold her down. she will bite, scratch, kick, scream and hit when she is displeased and i believe whole-heartedly that she loves nothing more than to give a new staff member what i fondly refer to as a true introduction to this line of work. she is non-verbal, yet can cuss as clear as katt williams.

she is as manipulative as they come.

when you go into this kind of job like me, completely blind, you're given this whirlwind training introduction to mental retardation and certified in this, this and this, you're then plopped down in a situation that forces you to either sink or swim. nothing ever fully prepares you because its something you learn as you go, if you decide to stay. i remember when i first started at this particular house. they gave you a summary of what to expect for this and this person, which never does them justice, by the way, and off you go. even in my training class, when asked which house i'd be working at, there were painful winces, when i mentioned "flow". the hype was pretty intense.

for 2 months, at bedtime, i would literally pick her up and carry her. i didn't know any better and did so because she would lay flat down on the couch and raise her arms up when it was time. i thought she was physically unable to do so by herself. then one night, i heard noise coming from her room and i peeked in. she had gotten out of bed and was bookin' it to her bathroom. she did her business, washed her hands and then trotted back to bed, hopping back in, easy as you please. after she'd tucked herself back in, she noticed me standing there. probably with my mouth open to my kneecaps. she just grinned and closed her eyes.

this has very much defined our relationship. to this day, she has never once been mean to me.

i call her mama.

she has an affection for baby dolls and likes her shoes just so. in the moments before bed at night, she chatters quietly to me. i like to imagine she's telling me everything about her day. she likes me to comb out her afro into soft curls. she loves the song "amazing grace" and that i sneak splenda in her coffee. when i wear shorts, she laughs. and when i have cleaned her for the umpteenth time after an *accident* he hugs me so tightly, as tho her life depended on it. i like to think its because i don't compromise her dignity. because, tho i have never understood her, i know her.

the job i've been offered is to be her personal assistant. and the job has its pros and cons. my biggest issue right now has not so much to do with her, but me. with the place i'm at in my life, right now. and i think the fear of the unknown comes very much into play. aside from our short stint in nebraska, in our life together, i have always worked. and i have never had *normal* hours or weekends off. the idea of a 9-5 kind of job, or in this case 8-3, is actually kind of scary to me. and the very real truth is, sometimes i don't know how long i want to be in this kind of work.

so....keep me in mind, no? more, later....

and then

crickets, i've a crap-ton to share with you all. mainly the absolute chaos of the last week and how i've yet miraculously survived. redheads of the world unite. can i get a witness. a little hooooooraaaah. continuing to rock your socks off, one easily sunburned heroine at a time.

you are welcome.

but i'm tired and its the weekend and while you're all thinking long and hard about the wonder that is me, i have work to do and bella's music makers concert tomorrow at church.

so instead, i'm hittin' the sack. its 9 on a saturday morning and past my bedtime. i leave you with this:

whoever thought up the "substitute plain yogurt for sour cream to make a fat free yet tasty dip?" needs a lobotomy. i was intending on some baby carrots and ranch *dip* for breakfast, thank you. and instead, because of the great taste bud revolt of 2008, i've been reduced to eating leftover greasy, cheesy tacos this morning. and because you cannot eat a taco without a pepsi, well just shoot me now.

needless to say, my fat intake is all your fault today, buddy.

i hope you sleep well at night.

you, with that conscience.

thursday thhhbbbttts

oh this is gonna be a doozy.

i'm always a procrastinator. plus, i think its a cliche' to make new years resolutions. nothing like the kiss of death. i've always wanted to make one of those cool lists...you know....like the top 100 things i'd like to do before i'm 40. or before i die. or the top 100 things you can't possibly live without knowing about me. like i can pick things up with my toes. or i can't hock a loogie without drooling on myself.

but i always feel like i'm a day late and a dollar short. all these bloggers with their special projects for every day of the week and such, now. bunch of over achievers.

people.

i do good to remember if i've changed my knickers & fed the dog. let alone my child.

so instead, i figure what better day than thursday to kind of clear out the cobwebs. during her brief stay with us, christy initiated this great idea, to go outside every night after the wild child went to sleep. we would "light a proverbial candle and purge". nevermind her candle of choice was a cigarette, but you win some, you lose some, in the interpretation.

anyway.

its a good idea. worth trying sometime. oh, its awkward at first. especially if the people you're surrounded by are not neccesarily stellar in their comprehension of All That Is You. but its freeing, to get stuff aired. out in the open. to voice it, talk about it, if need be, much to jason's dismay. to Let It Go. similar to that kind of thing where you write down all the sad, sorry, terrible, heinous things you've done, once every 7 years and throw it in a big bonfire and you're magically redeemed and all God's people shout halleluiah. what, you didn't watch dharma and greg? nevermind.

all joking aside, it really is very healing. sometimes, i think we need to just say something out loud, for it to make sense. or to look at it objectively. and to decide if there's anything you can do to change it right now or in the immortal words of the Eagles: learn to be still.

at any rate. today, these are the Things On My Mind.

bella
therapy
jason
christy

and before i get going, do me a favor and go navel gazing. you'll be glad you did. you'll thank me and even give me props. and maybe i'll get a free hoover out of the deal too.
http://borrowedlight.blogspot.com/

so i was going thru bella's papers today. with it being officially may, the countdown has begun, and i figured what better time to organize, before its pool time and i just really won't care. i regularly sort thru and decide which school papers need saved for all posterity and which ones well, don't. which is why i do this when she's not around. my mother thinks this practice is unholy and wrong and that God may just see fit to it that i'm forever banned to the kids table if i make it to heaven. heavy on the if. she believes bella and i will be sitting in therapy one day all because i threw out her potatoe head drawing. maybe so. but they won't have to go thru eleventeen cartons of crap when i keel over. eh? eh? ya follow me?

its so funny how your kids are sometimes so amazingly opposite of how you imagined they'd be. bella was born with personality plus. the perfect baby. she came out singing, if thats possible. happy. never knew a stranger. bold. fearless. free. so it was no real surprise when she took to school like a fish to water. she was off and running without so's much as a smooch goodbye. 'breezed thru kindergarten and 1st grade....loved everything about books! and learning!

and then we started 2nd grade and she hit puberty or a brick wall, one. all of a sudden she forgot how to read and hated everything but recess. nightly homework assigments intended for 20-30 minutes, lasted painstaking hours. and reading was like lining up for your nightly beating with a "please, sir, may i have some more?"

i came across a spelling test this morning. she'd received a hundred on it, incidentally. but she must've got bored in the process, looping each of her letters into elaborate decorative hearts and at the top of the page by her name, she'd lovingly written: "i hate thes crap". and while i know, i know...that i am largely the one responsible for the potty mouth and that this is precisely whats wrong with society's children today, i admit to a snicker, just then.

and then, the 5th grade spelling champion in me cringed. *thes* ? oi vey.

so bella. my daughter. my beautiful, brilliant wide-eyed wild child. fiercely independent. dramatic. boisterous. with a heart bigger than the universe. seeing only the real. only the now. always educating me. always inspiring me. always surprising me.

my daughter who has struggled, so much, this year. days of insanity. temper tantrums, out of control behavior. pushing to the limit. not my child.

my former boss, bless his sarcastic yet enormous heart with a soft spot for a woman bawling snot boogers, who has been a God-send over the past year & listened to more than he ever needed to, about my ongoing saga in this department, asked in passing the other day, "so how's the boo?". i gave him a thumbs up and he stopped dead in his tracks and mouthed "exorcism?" without missing a beat, i nodded, with an "its amazing what holy water can do."

seriously tho? "add. adhd. early hormones. bipolar." all labels spit at me over the course of these last many months. by a schools lazy approach to my concerns and their frustration with repeat offenses. by doctors that find nothing wrong with her, but can offer magical catatonic pills.
i struggle with this one. with categorizing my child. i always think there's some way i can fix her...that i just haven't tapped into it yet. i just haven't prayed hard enough. i don't want to make her feel labeled. peers will help do that for her, all too soon.

the solution:

well i don't know what the answer is. surprise!! and maybe there isn't one. maybe this is a phase. maybe its something bigger than all of us. maybe this means actual puberty will be a breeze, complete with angels singing in heavenly choir.

a woman can dream.

with only weeks remaining of school, maybe i can just hope for a fluidity to our summer. maybe, we'll find a connection and have a break-through..... maybe my exasperation and concern over my own personal issues involving what's left of my sanity haven't helped find a solution, either. i've been on the fence about switching schools. but she's all for it, and jason and i have talked and prayed this one into the ground. with every day i pass by the potential new school, i feel just a little more hope. so leave her in Gods hands. and try, try, try. i called to setup registration this morning.

therapy, i find myself entirely disillusioned by. y'know...we're in a church that has been an absolute blessing. jasons' mom has even been coming with us...they have an awesome kids program, a rockin' praise and worship. its a church home thats been a long time coming, for us. one that jason and i both really feel comfortable in, for probably the first time in our marriage. where the emphasis isn't so heavy on the doctrine and dress code and the building fund, but more on the Bible and where you need to be with the Big Guy Upstairs. where jasons's tattoos don't automatically condemn him sideways, and flip-flops are accepted.

which is huge. HUGE, i tell you.

the thing is, i'm not laying my *stuff* on anyone. and most certainly not the church. but it does make me realize some cracks in our churches today. i love the song by Casting Crowns, "does anybody see her". in the past couple of years, the lyrics in that song have taken on an entire new meaning to me. namely, how easy it is not to notice those faceless ones in our midst. or worse yet, turn the other way when we do notice. because of our own lack of understanding. or wanting to. we don't want to get our hands dirty. acknowledge the ones that hurt. the ones that need more than just a "go with God".

it took ALOT for me to actually reach out and ask for some help. to officially talk about my rape. and initially, i was lovingly looked after, don't get me wrong. i submitted a prayer request, which jumpstarted a chain of emails from deacons to elders, that then put me in direct contact with our womans coordinator, whose hug was like that of God himself. the church actually assisted me with getting in contact with a therapist. but, after the whirlwind of love, i can't help but feeling like i've now been kind-of "dropped off at day-care, see ya later".

maybe that's ignorant and childish. i realize i'm not the only wounded soul out there. we're in a large church and at some point, "God helps those that help themselves" does come in to play. the therapist i see, is based out of a christian organization that takes cases, largely out of the donations of churches like mine. which, let me be frank, is awesome. but when your therapy sessions range a month apart and your issues don't.....well, there's alot i can say about overbooking. if you'd like a long entertaining story about northwest airlines some day, for instance....

but my point is, it kinda makes me want to "bounce". or for all you kids not up on my street talk, "drop-out". and its not that i don't need it. jason and i both do, quite frankly. but i feel like i need to look at the bigger picture. am i going here simply because the church is assisting in my $50 copay.... because i was desperate and didn't know any other way to go about asking for help? and if all that is true and i still want to stick with it, then can i be patient with that kind of schedule. not really getting ANYthing figured out, 4 weeks at a time. or is that Gods' intention. and am i actually getting more out of it than i bargained....

so solution: don't really have one. will think on this some more. for now, let it go. allow myself to be psyched up for my session the end of may.

speaking of therapy and all that "more than i bargained for" stuff, my issues with jason and christy as it turns out, go hand-in-hand, this evening.

christy's sister phoned this afternoon, concerned as she hadn't heard from her. before christy hung up on me the other day, she'd said she was going to stay with her sister for awhile. as it turns out, she never showed up. i sighed, today, wondering if this was really a conversation i wanted to get into. but i think it was needed. my hope is that God works his wonders there. that maybe i was able to give her sister some insight into Christy's broken-ness. i told her i hadn't heard from Christy. but if i did, i would let her know. i called the only number i had and left a message. and i let it go.

but she called, shortly after. asking if i could bring her cigarettes.

blaaaaaaaargh.

jason and i had just settled nicely into our newly used boxset of "dexter", episode four....bella was asleep, frank was between us, being the weiner that he is, smelling like cornchips and chewing on rawhide. after i hung up the phone, i faked my death and slid onto the floor. jason shook his head. "go. but don't think i'm not going to ruin the ending for you. because i totally will. serial killers wait for no man."

i told him if he really cared, he'd go watch "sweeney todd". which, by the way, was a real bummer in my opinion. and who knew it was a musical? did you know this?

so i went. and because i didn't particularly want God's input right then, i turned up the contemporary christian station just a little too loud and jammed to this song by jars of clay:

There is a river that washes you clean
There is a tree that marks the places you've been
Blood that was spilled, although not your own,

For all of your tears, are the wages for things you have done
And all of those nights
Spent alone in the darkness of your mind
Give it up, Let go
These are things you were never meant to shoulder

There is a river that washes you clean
There is a tree that marks the places you've been
Blood that was spilled, although not your own
For all of those tears, love will atone
So, give up the right
To control the waves that empty out your life

Above wild skies
Are the rays that break, the shadows we design
Give it up, let go
These are things you were never meant to shoulder
Give it up, let go

know the world can turn in different ways
Most of the time, we're simply hanging on
And under the signs of how we all behave
We might find the place that we belong

For all of those nights, that you cried all alone
All of your tears, love will atone

fine. score one for the Big Guy. gotcha.

i got there and walked up the steps, as slow as i could. i took a deep breath and i knocked. she came immediately to the door, and sobbing, threw her arms around me. she reeked of alcohol. the apartment, inside and out, as chaotic as her life has become.

she said she was sorry. that she doesn't know who she is anymore. that she can't leave morgan. that she can't go to be with her sister and look her in the eye and be honest.

i said, what better time than now. that no matter how perfect she tries to portray her life and do everything right, at the end of the day, there's always going to be that one person that doesn't agree with you. that condemns you. that misunderstands. that judges. and only you can get yourself right. only you know where you are with yourself, with God. only you can start fixing you, by opening that door. by facing those demons, head-on. that noone, no matter how much they love you, can ever do that for you. can ever make you feel good enough about you.

she argued that her sister will throw her out, if she admits her lies. if she tells her she's gay. what if she tells her she's going to hell?

i asked, so what if she does? and what if you are? is that what you want to hear? is that what defines your life, the opinions and expectations of others? is that why you run from everything? because her sister can think that all she wants. but she can't answer that question for her.

i told her i know what its like to be flat on your belly, your face in the mud. and the last thing you want to hear is someone telling you, "hey. you're flat on your belly, face in the mud". but thats the danged truth. and it sucks. and you want out. but this is the stuff, kiddo. don't tell yourself that you're so far gone and not worth it, because you're here, right now, in this moment, for a purpose. so take that long hard broken look in the mirror. face it head-on. and stop running. does she really want to be here in this place. drunk, stoned, donating plasma twice a week for her next high? or does she want it all to stop. now.

alot of stuff was said, actually. i'm nothing if not to the point, as we all know, chapter 798 in. and i don't know that she was ready to hear any of it. or that it will ever make a difference. the more important thing, was that i prayed about it, each time i opened my big fat mouth. and thats not something i've done in a long while. and when i left, she thanked me for loving her.

and as i drove home, i was flooded with this overwhelming realization that this is exactly what love looks like. imperfect. and broken. exasperating. no magic wand. its intense and flawed and messy. and sometimes you have to look it in the eye. and sometimes you have to walk away.

when i got home, jason was in bed watching "sweeney todd".

"i don't have a clue what these people are saying. and by the way, thanks for not telling me this was a MUSICAL. "

i probably responded with a really innocent "whaaa?" and climbed into bed, beside him. we switched it over to "miami ink" and watched in silence for awhile. i told him i've been angry with him. for a really long time. but tonite..... for the first time in a long time, i couldn't get home fast enough to him. that i realized he was right where i wanted to be.

he said he really needed to hear that.

i asked if he realized how long we'd been married. he didn't even pause, "not long enough".

good answer.