Happy Old Year!!!

Happy Old Year!!

I just wanted to make sure I got that in before the last bell tolls. No one ever wishes me one, so I thought I would get on here and wish it to everyone! (You know all 4 of you who read my crazy stuff.) It is sad that Happy Old Year is not wished or celebrated, why do we have to focus on the New stuff anyways?

I do love an adventure, don't get me wrong. Figuring out things and adding new thoughts to my silly little head is quite entertaining. Also trying to figure out new ways of bastardizing the English language is challenging, I have so much competition ya know. I look forward to our New Year and beginnings.

New Year is about things you don't know. What is in store for us as the the new calendar is flipped open to each new month? I mean,  you never really know how many times you are really gonna stub your pinky toe, do you? Whereas in the Old Year, you know that after the 4th time you felt you broke off that little appendage on the coffee table, you thought a little redecorating of the living room was in store, right? You also know how your hair looks in that hair do you tried out and that color shirt you thought was gonna look great. Instead you looked like a monk acolyte and that shade of orange did make your skin look green. I mean, that is GREAT information. How can you not be happy and celebrate that?

Of course there is that fear of the unknown and unforeseen, is that what we are really celebrating? I think we should celebrate what we did learn and now know. I think we should celebrate personal growth and understanding. Are we glad that any mistakes that we made in the year are behind us and we don't have to ruminate over them anymore? Are we free of unjoyful tidings we learned to overcome and become better despite them? Are we lamenting the partings of people who may not of been good in our lives? No, we found in ourselves inner strengths, new truths and perhaps better understanding of how our version of happiness is what makes us be. I think that is why we need to be celebrate the Old Year, because it is celebrating ourselves and those we love, and our journey. I think celebrating what is coming as a bit premature, as you don't know how you are really going to tackle those situations. It is almost akin to getting a pat on your back for winning a game you have not yet played. I think you should get the pat on the back for the game you have played. And played well, I might add.

Christmas Eve...Again

Quiet time... Peace On Earth time... One of the most predictable days of my entire year time.

I love Christmas, with all it's Joy and Love and gift giving/receiving. All the yummy food and family and friends. Snow on the ground and clear night skies to watch the stars twinkle. The tree in the living room giving off an ethereal glow. I can almost hear harps playing and angels alighting in my yard. I love it. Of course, due to the holiday and what it entails with children at home, I know what I will be doing that day.

Back on December 25, 2006, I posted a silly little blog on MySpace (don't judge) about my Christmas holiday. And frankly I don't see that much has changed at all. I still feel the need to offer up the baked goods, I think it is a genetic thing. I see all sorts of stories and Facebook posts of my families wondrous oven-baked love. My motivation toward doing it though is mostly just the need of thinking it's a good idea, then not doing it. It's okay, I hardly announce my plans to douse the family with carbohydrates so they hardly miss it.

After the near miss of oven loving is followed by The Wait. I wait for kids to eat dinner. I wait for kids to watch a movie, I wait for kids to get ready for bed. I wait for them to stop asking go to the bathroom, and asking for water. I wait for them to actually fall asleep. I tried that "lock them in the dungeon" routine before. My yelling and screaming at them to quit doing anything but mimicking a plank and breathing seems oh so much more effective. Plus it sure stirs up my heart rate. How could using a form of cardio not be a good thing?

The Wait was what I usually thought of as the hardest part, that is until I found out what a shopper my husband really is. That man likes to buy, he LOVES to just drown the kids in presents. Everything and anything cool is usually something he gets. If the kids get a set of clothes and bedding, I probably picked it out. If they got the latest xBox 360 game, he tossed it in the cart. Oh well, at least I know my gift choices make for warmer days or nights, right? No, The Wait is not the hardest part, not with the Shopaholic there to give me sleep deprived seizures. He gets so much cool stuff, but does he wrap the majority of it? Yea, that's right. I have the skill, so I wrap until I keel. I remember one year wondering if it REALLY was 3:30am or was I just hallucinating from tape and paper fumes. Alas, I was not and that Christmas is forever stricken from the family albums and not even mentioned in whispers out of my earshot. Most of the kids don't even know why the restrictions LOL

I know that I would solve any and all problems of late wrapping if I would just wrap as I go, but come on, we all have our own little Holiday Traditions, right? And I won't even pretend mine are healthier than most, because I am sure my health has declined just from Christmas alone.

That being said, I am passing The Wait by writing a bit on my blogs, but I do believe that I hear the Merry Shopping Elf giggling in the closet where the gifts are hidden, so I had better go rein him in until the proper time for wrapping magic.

Merry Christmas everyone, please love any and all, no matter who they are and what they have done. It's the Season for New Beginnings and Peace, but only by our own works. <3

Just a little me

I won't lie. It's been a crazy mix of emotions kind of week for me. And typically I write only because of a few emotions such as anger/frustration, silliness/joy or thoughtful/insightfulness. I hardly can stand to write when feeling over whelmed or sad. And I can honestly say this week has hit those points. The more entertaining part of my emotional psyche did come out to play, but when things hit a low I just had an utter lack of desire to write.

I imagine I would of had fun trying to frame words around some possible business opportunities that may be an option in a few months to come, or the possible job offer. I had hit some milestones with potty training (not me, my grandson), and what not. Most likely these little tidbits won't make it to print, as I write on the spur of the moment and don't usually ruminate about my verbal flights of fancy. Sort of a lost episode of Firefly kind of deal. It makes me a little bummed, but I am sure in a few more days time, my brain and fingers will get together and come up with something I know I will find entertaining.

I hope you hold your family a little tighter, love a little freer, and remember that this Christmas Season is about much more than the best decorations, the right present or endless lists. It's about family, whether you are related by blood or not, and maybe more importantly it's about love for all.

Don't eat at my house...

Originally written on Mar 1, 2007


Seriously, you wouldn't like it. I make promises of succulency seared steak; large, baked to perfection potatoes; and some fresh assortment of baby vegetables, sauteed in a light butter sauce. And when the blessed night arrives with those promises of delight for my families palate, I yell at them over my shoulder as I type out my latest blog and tell them the Ultra K Discount T.V. Dinners are in the freezer.

Honestly I don't know why they complain. I mean, if you take the main course from Wanda's Wonder Meat Surprise, add the veggie section of Maynard's Muskogee Corn Dog and top the meal off with the frozen, pre-strained, de-flavored mash potatoes from Kylie's Kickin Chicken, you have something very approximate to what I planned on offering anyways, at one tenth of the cost!

Oh don't get me wrong, I have made some pretty near gourmet meals in my lifetime, I'm just afraid none of my children under the age of 16 have ever had them. And the children old enough to actually have sampled my stylized cooking, were really much too young to appreciate it.

I do have a nearly legitimate reason for causing voluntary malnutrition in my household; I work. Who out there (out the 2 people left who read my blog) doesn't know what I am talking about? I mean come on, do you really want to come home from work and start mashing dead cow protein in a large bowl with an unfertilized chicken egg, toss in some secret spices (salt and pepper), top with ketchup and bake? Don't you spend most of your day with eggs that should be unfertilized and cows you wanna mash anyways?

To those of you out there who do spend their time with barn animals parading as humans, my hats off to you if you actually spend 3 minutes of your night on each child's meal you microwave, cause that how we roll at my house...

This one put me in my place

Originally written on Mar 2, 2007


There is NOTHING like being put in your place. That special moment, where you realized without a doubt how an ideal or self-reality you hoped/dreamed/thought had its own little set place in the universe did not in fact exists. And having found that out, you again realize, you are really the loser those kids in elementary school said you were.

Imagine, feeling that you are the life of the party, the unpaid entertainment that wins you the free ticket to some good munchies and a round of beverages. Imagine, for one second that you are the popular friend in your little circle whom everyone loves to hang out because of your witticism and charm. Imagine, your children brag to *their* friends about how cool and funny and extremely smart their own mother is, and she even proves it on a semi-bi-nearly tri-weekly rate on an internet blog…

…When in fact you are not.

The premise my story of stems from wanting to toot my own horn, show myself how important I am to the people in my life. It all came crashing down to one little click; the My Readers link on my MySpace Blog. Imagine my utter shock seeing only ONE person. ONE PERSON!! WUUUUUUUUONNNNN PPPEERRRRRSSSSSON subscribed to my blogs!

Granted, I love Jamie to death for putting up with my random thoughts, incoherent ramblings and the total destruction of the English language set to screen. He is a brave soul and deserves some sort of metal, to be sure. But I had hoped that others were benefiting from my words of wisdom, and alas, 'tis not true. Where am going with this, I am not certain, but I do feel much better for ranting, and I thank you, my ONE and ONLY audience member for not throw that rotten tomato you are holding your hand…

APPEND~ I do only have one subscriber, my lovely, talented and I wanna grow up to be just like her one day cousin Sissy. I don't mind, I just find it funny that 5 years later I am in the same boat. - Cathy Maccabee 12/13/12

Not The Lemonade

Life is funny sometimes. I tend to want to plan it out and set out the path the way I want it to go. What usually happens is a different result, coming from an entirely different path. The point of it is to not take it as being hit by a blindside punch, but to enjoy the journey into something you were not expecting. I could say making lemonade, but I think it is much more than that.

Crying

Well I did it. I showed up at my parents house and had a good cry. I needed it. I had just finished cleaning some essentials out of my son's vehicle. He had a very traumatic head on collision, and lived to tell the tell. And just as good as that, his children were not in the vehicle at the time of the crash. However, all his clothes and other personal items were in the vehicle.

I enlisted the help of my 18 year old daughter and her boyfriend to help me. I am so glad I did, for two reasons. Firstly, there was no way I could of done this so quickly or easily. The condition of the items in the back of that Suburban were horrific. Boxes that had held clothes had just disintegrated and massive amounts of clothes for 3 people had been mixed wildly in with boxes of household goods. My tiny wisp of a daughter climbed in and dug like her life depended on it to toss clothes at myself and her boyfriend. I would of never been able to climb in and just toss clothes out the windows like that.

Secondly, I needed others there to put on a brave show. I knew I didn't want to see how massive the damage was, but I knew it was important for me and my son to see what kind of work that vehicle did to keep him alive. It worked double time and then some. You can't even imagine metal paneling folding over itself 3 times. This is something you have to see yourself, not that I recommend it at all. To know that a massive 5.7 liter engine shifted nearly a foot and a half to the passenger side of the engine compartment AND almost half a foot into the cab of the vehicle should be out of the realm of possible imagination for anyone. The frigid temperatures helped me keep my cool, it drove me to just focus on the job of photo documentation and getting what was necessary out of the SUV. I didn't want to break down and cry and make my baby girl think that I was an overly emotional and stressed mother, even though that is exactly what I was. Still am for that matter.

I felt a little weepy as I walked back to my vehicle after checking out of the impound lot. I knew it was going to be a long drive home just for the emotional baggage I was carrying. One fourth of the way into my drive I decided that I just need to gather my energy and see mom and dad. The urge to just break down was rearing it's ugly head and blurry vision and highway travel don't mix well on slick winter roads.

As I knocked at my mother's door, I choose not to look at her face and try to smile through the window like I usually did while she unlocked the door, I knew I needed a hug right away. And like the wonderful mother she is, I got that hug.

Grand-Dame-Ma

Any of you moms out there every feel like crap after flexing your Mom Muscle? Of course I know this is a silly question, but that is what is on my mind this morning. I had to pull out all the stops and flex like the Hulk taking down a Loki, and that was that. I still feel like crap though, but I know my outburst was warranted and it did produce some results I feel more comfortable about. I feel a little comforted by the fact that I know I am appreciated, and most who I gave the verbal lashing to, understood I was under duress. Oh well, I shall call this another chapter in Life of Mediocre Mom and find a way to draw a picture about it in pixel art.

Life, as it is... A Mother's Worst Nightmare

Life as it is, can be crazy, even for a crazy person, such as myself. I get to use the phrase "every mother's nightmare" and expand on it, not really exciting but more of a landmark. At some time in your life, if you have children, you will most likely be exposed to a trauma or fear or circumstance that just blows you out of the water. I have had a few close scrapes and my mini panic attacks about them, but nothing as severe as what happened last Friday.

I had just declined watching my son's children. I was tired, and I didn't sleep well the night before. I felt bad for it too, I love the little buggers but sometimes they require a bit more energy than I feel I can muster when I know they are on their way. I was thinking about arranging the weekend so my son could get as many hours as he wanted Saturday and Sunday, but that Friday I really just needed and wanted to relax. Of course, as Fate would have it, my scheduled activities were on a very opposite course.

I got the call while I was listening to my ambient music. Listening to it is something I love to do when I am writing or relaxing and just want a little mental alone time or to clear my head. The call was from a number I did not recognize and hesitated to answer it. On the other side of the line was a frantic woman, who sounded like she was on the edge of horrified. That of course this piqued my interest right away, I sat straight up in my bed. She said she was calling for Chris' mom and that he already had her call his work and that he had been at an accident and he looked hurt but was doing okay. Of course at that point I heard a male voice groan from the background of her phone call.

I thought I would feel blood draining from my face or a little woozy or even extreme panic, like a chicken running around with it's head cut off, but I didn't. I knew it was close to him going to work, but I had to make sure if there the kids were in the vehicle with him. I felt like I was stumbling over the words and not explaining my question well enough but I heard her ask in the back ground to someone groaning if there were kids in the car. I could hear his voice before she relayed the message, 'no they were at home being watched'. I don't remember what she said and could not think of anything else to say so I told her thank you for helping him out and let him know I will be at the emergency room waiting for him.

It was a blur of grabbing charging cords and having my middle son start up the car, I told my husband what had happened. He knew I needed to get out of the house and on my way to see our son ASAP. Knowing I needed gas didn't even phase me in choosing to go to the ER first. I knew I could worry about the tank later, the most important thing was to be there for my son, and to know that he was okay.

I saw two ambulances at the bay doors at the hospital but had figured I had beat his ride by a long shot. I knew he had not been loaded in a vehicle when the good Samaritan had called. With my luck I had a wait. I checked in at the front desk, and a very kind and motherly women made sure to take down my son's name and date of birth so she could direct me to his room when he got there. As I chose my seat I looked for one that faced the Ambulance Bay doors and watched as the two red trucks were cleaned up and readied for their next trip out.

Of course, like the cool place it is, the Emergency Room intercom system piped it's alert messages not only to the back with the waiting personal and staff, but to were us poor saps who sit and wait get to hear it. I heard an ETA of 4 minutes and was comforted that my wait would be just a short while longer. I was agitated and anxious about the alert code and what it meant for injury level and staff readiness. To my undying thanks the motherly women was watching out for me and came right over and explained as much information as she could about the nature of his injury and what his status was, from the information she got from the attending EMT. I was comforted and worried but not nearly as so if she had not been so kind.

It didn't take long for her to usher me in to his room after he was wheeled in. And oh what a site, blood and bandages caught my attention but I quickly looked away. I didn't want to loose it or become faint, not that I believed I would, I just didn't want any complications for what my job was here: to be there for my son.

The sweet women who lead me in warned me that he was going to look a mess but I let her know he was the 2nd oldest of 5, I had seen quite a bit of it all (though this was not even close to anything I had experienced before) and I think I would do fine. She seemed a bit relieved and impressed and left me at his room.

He noticed me right a way and smiled, I knew he would be okay if he could smile. He loves me unerringly and would smile when he walked in the door of my house, but his smile gave me a lot of comfort.

He was a mess, bits of glass were sparkling on his cheeks and in his hair, his left hand looked like it when through a window and probably had. His pillow held all sorts of dust and hair, and a couple of blood spots. But the star of the night was his lower leg. They had to keep it uncovered for the most part, to assess the wound and set up for mobile x-ray. And I tried my best not to look still fearing that it would be more than I could take. I kept talking with him, even making silly jokes like the ones him and I like to share, and when I felt he was truly himself and not suffering from some devastating organ injury I glanced at his break.

A compound fracture is a break of the bone that happens to exit the body through the skin to become expose to all manner of elements and contaminants. I won't go into detail, but I can say it's not everyday a parent can look at the actual bones inside their child's body without the help of an x-ray machine.

 Maybe it's a morbid curiosity or just wanting to know what his status really was and what to expect next but I looked it over as closely as I could without getting in the way of anyone treating him. In fact I am impressed at my display of medical treatment ballet I have when working around medical personal. I could spin, move and sashay out of the way and be back to hold his hand in a heartbeat.

The worst of it is he is going to be healing for a very long time; the best of it is I have my son. He is not dead, I am not planning a funeral nor am I wondering about how much time will I get to spend with his children since he is separated from their mother. Those would be the worst. I got to live through every mother's nightmare and live to tell the tell. I know I am given all that which I can handle and I keep hoping I don't need to keep taking the next step, but I will take each step as I need to for each of my children, my own or grand. I don't want to live in any sort of nightmare but I will deal with it head on and do my best with it.

Pandora's Box is Open

I have been in quiet a mood for a while! I think I am loving it, but it's all still new. I think it has something to do with my Pandora app on my phone and my BlueRay. I get to manually tune my mood to music. It's like thinking you have total control when you really don't LOL I favor the Ambient Station, I feel all comfy and relaxed, and then the thoughts and creativity flow. I had been a writing fool on that station for like a week! I had to take some time off for Thanksgiving, a day or two of extra babysitting time with the Grandkids and my birthday weekend, but when I haven't been busy, I have been busting out the groove in verbage. I love it!

Of course I tried an experiment tonight, I flipped on some Marilyn Manson and the like and pumped out a pretty heady and dark story, but it was freaking cool.

I had played some Lullaby Station for my grandson and my granddaughter and got them to sleep, it was awesome. Both of them seem to really love music and maybe I won't let mom or dad in on my secret weapon, so I can seem even more cool than my current coolness level.

This morning I did an impromptu dance session in the living room to some Too Close by Alex Clare... I was a complete swan, with no balance, sense of timing or even the right tutu, BUT I had fun and loved it. I rather enjoy letting the music have me and take me away on journeys, it's like a 5 minute vacation.

Plus I have been listening to bands like The Birthday Massacre, Escala, La Roux and my personal favorite Emilie Autumn. Oh yea, wait until I hit up the K-Pop, I am gonna rule the world!!

Happy Birthday Me, I am 42!

It's my birthday! I am 42!! YAY!

It does not bother me one bit that others know my age; I am not offended when you ask, I love it! I know people who color their hair, 'adjust' their birth-date or leave it off of Facebook, and all I can think is why fight it? Why not enjoy getting older? Did you know that you do more stuff as you get older? That's how I look at it. Of course I am almost the ultimate "glass half full" kind of person you would ever meet.

I like the idea of getting older, I have some goals I want to reach and they happen to be down the road a bit. Like, I will start getting old when I am 82. Yes, I planned it out, and yes I know that sometimes there is no real choice in the matter, but I don't want to be old before then. I want to do what ever I want and not be held back by a "I am too old for that" mentality. want to do stuff before I get old though. I want to play with Barbies again, but this time with granddaughters and they will have to clean the mess up and put them away. That is gonna be fun. I also want to find some fun hiking adventures too. One of those goals is to take a mountain hike on my birthday, THAT will be a blast.

On the flip side I am pretty sure I won't mind being old, I am gonna have a LOT of fun with that one, just ask my kids. I try to pull stuff now and I get the idea that I am not senile enough. I can't wait until I get to say stuff and get to watch the look on my children's faces as they try to recover from whatever I said. I think I should start the list now, so I can add a little "classic" to what I say. I want to do wacky things like wear a bucket on my head and carry around a garden rake and tell everyone I am protecting the castle from dragons. Who couldn't find me adorable after learning that, right?

Well I have a wonderful day planned, involving some cake made for me, kids surrounding me and grand-kids having a blast.

Thankfuls

I don't usually do the "I am thankful for..." thing on social media or blogging, not unless I think of something outrageously funny to say about it. My MO is to try to be thankful to those around me as much and often as possible, rather than save it up for one day a year. As it turns out on this wondrous morning I have decided to go outside my shell a bit. I would like to admit to "out there" what I am thankful for.

I am thankful for my family. Everyone of them. The ones I see everyday and the ones I have only met once in my life or even just heard of, thank you. I am thankful for the family that I have chosen myself, those of you not of blood, in my heart you are family; you are an army of few but those of you I have chosen I have chosen because I need you; in your capacity and style, I need that quality I may lack or not understand, and you posses it, thank you. It's all of YOU who make me who I am today. You give me ideas and show me love, you let me love you and you tell me what you think. I think of myself as a diamond in the rough, but as I mature, I find I have many more facets than I had started out with. This is due to family.

I am thankful for my friends. My friends are the people I try my best to take them aside and show them compassion and hope. I always try my best to leave a positive word or just let you know that I listen to you. I may not hang out with you and run in your circles, but as often as I can, try to help you. I am thankful that I can make a person smile or give them a positive spin on a crazy bad day.

I am thankful for Nature. Many things that drive me is due to this whole wide world I live in. I take walks in the fall to smell the cottonwood leaves as they lay strew about the ground. I love the colors of the the sky from dawn to midday to dusk, even the color of space at night, I love it. I am thankful for the many creatures of the earth, such as the chickadees that eat at my bird feeder, or the Stellar Jay who cleans up the mess that has been tossed down to my yard. I am thankful for the lanky bovine that keep the tourist all in a twitter when they see them munching on branches and trees around town. I am thankful for the seasons of the year and what each of their jobs do for my surroundings.

I am thankful for the past-times I enjoy, to an obsessiveness. I could go on and on about softball and maybe even tell you things you never knew. Or I could enjoy a rousing fantasy based game because I enjoy the idea of of wielding swords or casting spells. I love, love, LOVE the Internet. From message boards of old to conversations done in real time with web cams in this fantastic day and age. It makes a lot possible that was only a dream when I was a child. I love writing, and blogging, both of which are pretty much connected completely to the Internet but I save my stories for myself to read when I want. I love music. Sometimes I have a song running in background in my head. It does not always fit things that are going on around me, but when I pick a song to play over and over it is there to give me a little bit of inner joy I don't have to share with anyone else.

I am thankful for me. This is not something I always tell myself, but once in a while I pour on the positive affirmations and just let'er rip, like now. I love how I think and process things. For me it's the journey of how I get to the conclusion, what I do to make the dots connect, not the end result. I love how I thirst for knowledge and do my best to feed it. I do act like a spoiled Now Generation kid when it comes to my questions demanding answers, but I know that I have other questions in the wings and I need to make room for them, lest they get bored and leave. I am thankful for how hard I try to love myself. It is a very tough job and I know I have failures and shortcomings regarding how I treat myself, but I work hard at trekking on. If I do well, I look back and give myself a quiet and short pat on the back.

One thing I may be most thankful for is my capacity to love. I wasn't going to write this or try to figure it out, but I find it is something that I want to try to express. I love as hard as I can, without conviction. I get hurt often, something I truly dislike. But I won't stop loving for fear of being hurt. I am thankful for that. It helps me try to understand others. It helps me try to see into their dark corners and just love them for who they are. They may not understand, or want my love, or even find it unacceptable but I am okay with that. I am thankful I can do something such as love with every fiber of my being and be satisfied that is all I want to do.

Boot Camp DVD

This was originally posted January 14th, 2008

I just watched the Graduation CD we bought for Alex's Boot Camp Graduation. It was nicely done, with a presentation that gave us a great idea on what our recruits go through all the way during Boot Camp to watching some kids eating their Warrior Breakfast after the crucible.
It was scary to see how much they are yelled at, why they are yelled at, and who is doing the yelling. I know the reason behind all breaking down the recruits. They have to be built up to be Marines. I am okay with that; otherwise they would not produce the people they need to do the work they do. Still as a parent, you wonder if the way that kid was reacting was the same way your kid was reacting when she was being yelled at for not locking her footlocker right, or not completing a task quick enough.
What I did love, but also found irritating at the same time, was the footage actually shot of my daughter's platoon for her Emblem Ceremony. This is the ceremony where they receive their Eagle Globe and Anchor Emblem and are welcomed as full fledged Marines into the Corp fold.
It was beautiful to see proud young men and women crying at their accomplishment. The pentacle of all their hard work as it comes to fruition. You get to hear them sniffling, and watch their faces twitch as their tears dried on their checks and made them want to wipe them away or scratch them, but the total self-control they exhibited in not doing so. Watching the look in their eyes as they stare into their Drill Instructors eyes as they are handed their emblem, given a handshake and being told they have been brought into a Brother and Sisterhood for life.
While watching this, I kept searching and searching for my daughter's familiar face. Minute after minute, even to the point of pausing and using slow motion to see if I can find her in a quick pan. Catching only a glimpse of an ear, or profile of her face from a distance, or that shot of the bun in the back of her head that survived her 52 hour Crucible Ordeal.
As I watched every inch of that footage, I got mad at the cameraman for shooting 15 freaking minutes of the same stupid girl in standard issued glasses crying, when he could of been searching the crowd for me so I can see my daughter at one of the MOST defining moments in my child's life.
After watching for what seemed like forever, fuming and just getting more upset, I finished the movie and laid down. Then I cried. I cried because I truly miss her. I feel a little (or a big, as it felt at the moment) corner of my heart had broken off. I have friends who think I am worried (yes I am a worrywart) but I truly know that was not why I was crying as I lay in my bed. I knew that I completely and totally missed her physical presence right here next to me. I let the tears roll off my face in continual waves knowing that this fit of tears would pass even if the feeling of loneliness wouldn't.
She has been there with me through everything in my adult life, because she was there the moment I became an adult. Maybe not a completely responsible, financially stable, highly educated adult, but I was an adult from the moment I held her in my arms in the hospital. I knew that this little life depended on me to love her and care for her and teach her the best I know how, to live in this life.
And in turn I was there for her biggest moments in life, her first Holiday Concert for kindergarten, her first band concert, her tromp through all the teams from Anchorage for a bid in the All-Star Softball Tournament, her first hair coloring, her last band concert, high school graduation...to being the last family member she sees at the airport before leaving for the Marine Corp.
I know the Emblem Ceremony was such an internal victory and profound finding of oneself, but I would of been so satisfied to see the look in her eyes, the look I expected from the person I know better then she realizes. I know now I can't be there for everything, that she gets to keep her own big moments in life her own, but I am still learning this. I will sit back and imagine the look in her eye, the steely stare in straightforward attention and the tears on her face that wash her slate clean and set her up for this new part of her life.
I know that I can do that. I just wish that knowing this would help the loneliness in my heart...

Twinkies... Manna from heaven!

Ahhh the latest and greatest from one of the most advanced civilizations to grace the Earth, the possibility of the demise of Twinkies. I am actually very saddened that so many are losing jobs, and stores will be closing. In short, it really sucks. After losing our yearly income this last summer I need something funny, so this disclaimer being said, here goes.

It has been amusing to see the general public's reaction to the loss of this uniquely American treat. I have not touched the stuff since I learned to read ingredient labels, sometime between junior high and my 4th child, I get confused as to when I learned this skill, both events seemingly happening within mere months.

One, by the third sugar ingredient I figured, maybe it's not something I wanna feed myself or my kids. I mean, I feel bad adding sugar to my cereal, thinking that is over kill. Two, when I got to the second kind of fat in the ingredient list my little worry bells went off. Who uses beef fat in processed foods anymore anyways? Apparently Hostess does. And three, not only do the ingredients scare me, but the simple fact that you eat the first one and BAM! it's gone, that scares me..

You don't even remember chewing it, and it's completely devoured. You know the dog didn't eat it because you don't have a dog. At least this is how I feel. Then I would look around, making sure there isn't any persons of a magical nature waiting for me to eat the second one just to make it vanish. I would deliberately try to take slow bites and savor the filling. Most of the time, I do remember eating the second one but I also remember something else. I remember how sticky and greasy the little suckers are too. I mean how weird is that, you either eat something greasy like a pizza or something sticky like honey, not something with both tactile sensations at once. THAT is bizarre if you ask me, truly.

Aside from the strangeness of Twinkies, they have a kind of power. I mean I spelled it out about how the first one is ingested without thought, or even action; it just appears in your stomach with no effort from the consuming human. That kind of power should be awe inspiring, but it does not stop there. The real power, can, even in the most minute quantities, get a teenager to do physical labor. Seriously, it can! You guffaw?  You snort in derision? Test it, I say. Try it out!

Get yourself an fairly healthy looking teenager, your own is preferable, then the neighbors won't call the cops on you. If you have to borrow one, please get the parents permission and I would sign some releases and such, just to prove you are not a crazy nut feeding snack treats to random mini-adults and be labeled an insane person. Okay, now that you have your handy human-in-training, you ask them to do some sort of strenuous or other undesirable labor that most adults can muddle through and not die from; like shoveling snow or taking the trash out. At most, you might get an excuse about an injured arm or a desperate need to do homework that is not due for a few more weeks; the subject knows very well they are going to put it off until the night before turning it in anyways. In the least, you will get an eye-roll, especially if you brought this being into the world. I recommend rolling those eyes right back at the subject, as they will need them for the next part of the experiment.

But if you take the SAME teenager and offer them a Twinkie, all you see are the cartoon clouds that spin chairs previously containing persons with no will to move. It would be a comical moment, if you were not being serious and conducting an experiment. It is less funny when you are using your own child for this test. You will ponder why you didn't try this earlier, then you like me, read the ingredients at one point and remember something about clogging arteries of children is frowned upon in most civilized societies.

I know this experiment sounds amazing, but really it is worth a try. And then after you see proven results, you can go horde your own collection of Twinkies. You never know when you want to redo the siding on your house or have to tear up and repair the yard for some underground sprinkler upgrades.

Rumble in the Jumble

I haven't written in forever. Well, forever in my little world. But I do that. I have spurts of 'gotta get it on paper' and then I have these long dry spells with nothing to add. I usually want to write when I am feeling overly silly or creative. It's not often I write due to the more common emotions of sadness, anger or love. I tend to be a rather private person about that stuff. I do use my silliness and humor to bounce off those common feelings, to sorta get over it and move on. I like to that I have been busy, though I may not really be. Busy people don't play 5+ hours of phone games a day, do they?

Any-hoo, I am feeling a little melancholy at the moment. I think it is a jumble of things that add to it. First and foremost is the weather. I love that we have mostly white on the ground, but really a couple inches before Thanksgiving is not going to cut it. I have seen snow like that blow away and reveal the lifeless brown grass underneath many a time. I need a good snow, the kind that gives a blanket to my world. Cleans it up, so to speak. Most people think Spring is the season for new beginnings, I say Winter is. It cleans up the world, gives her a new identity. You can plainly see her beautiful flaws and perfect landscapes. There is no practical hiding in Winter. In many ways it is such a warm and comforting season. You can snuggle close a your babe in your arms, sipping hot cocoa and reading a book as easily as you can take a walk to the edge of civilization and take perfect postcard pictures. Yea, I love Winter, a lot. But it's not Winter without the snow. I need more.

To add to my jumble is family. Oh, yes, that joyous conglomeration of people you either created or who created you, the ones you add on your own and those who seem to just drop in like a puzzle piece when you least expect it. Family is almost always a mixed bag. But always an important bag. I am constantly striving to please a parent, and fight that feeling that I need to please other humans with insane perfection. I am always trying to best a sibling, but show love and compassion like only a sibling can. I am always trying to parent children, even if they are adults, not an easy job. I never thought you would have to worry about adult children almost as much as you worry about them as kids. The plus side is I am on the cusp of Teenagerland at the moment, it's been a nice break. I had been the mom of a teenager(s) for 12 years...THAT is like forever in Parentingland and the break I have had in the last 10 months has been sorta nice. And the ones that are added in, they seem to make life that much more interesting. They make you want to cry and laugh, pull your hair out and beat the crap outta them, or they just make you feel that extra bit special. I love my extras, I would not trade them for the world.

I have the normal family craziness, but I decided that was not enough. I decided that I wanted to add more. In a past life I might have run an orphanage or boarding school, that would make sense to me and explain why I keep wanting to add to my brood. I am in the process of seeing if I can foster my cousin's daughters. I am pretty excited and happy about it but, I am also nervous. I know their life has not been the easiest nor the most normal (who is to say what is normal right? But I think they may have more abnormal then any child deserves). I worry that I could just make life more difficult for them, I like rules and weirdness. Creativity and silliness. Trying to be normal and then making it all fit around my idea of fun. I am not sure what I like to teach and create is something they would enjoy, if that makes any sense. Oh, I know, I am a good parent. I love kids, I love mentoring and teaching. But I think being a little nervous gives me an edge to stay on task. I guess I get to see how this adventure works out.

Holidays, oh yes holidays. The time where I like to add a little crazy to my craziness and see what happens. One Thanksgiving I threw a temper tantrum. No I didn't stomp my feet but I think dumping out the gravy in the sink and yelling was a little over the top. There was that Christmas where I was snarling at everyone and everything while wrapping presents at 3am but I think that is acceptable behavior for crazy people, right? Well I got Thanksgiving around the corner and I don't have plans, food or the house ready for it. I am not sure what to do. It is not the worst of my worries, and most likely one of the easiest to fix. I have having dinner at my house so I can get oodles of extra to live off of for a week.

I have been going through my own inner turmoil as well. Sometimes I feel as if I am standing on the edge of something great, something bigger than myself. Being able to see for miles in any given direction but no real idea of what direction I should go. I think the biggest part of this is the fact that I know I have choices. Knowing you can go in any direction is empowering, invigorating, and a bit scary. I could start new adventures, meet new people, do new things at any turn I choose. I tend to like to plan out stuff and know how things are going to happen, but most of these choices are complete mysteries to me. And wonderfully enough I think I am ready for adventure. But I do not feel the need to make a move right now. And that's okay too. I have a lot of patience, and I don't mind practicing that.

At any rate, enough babbling, maybe now I can find a way to write something creatively and post it on the other blog. Happy November

Flip sides

Here is a blog I follow. I met this guy roughly 2 years ago. He is a great guy, fun to be around, easy to talk to. He is also rather opinionated, but that is okay, you allowed that as a human being. Since I know him I get to see the back story to his blog posts, somethings are not always beautiful to behold. Like his story. It is sad, and I have cried about it, but mostly, I just keeping telling him I am his friend and I am there for him. If you want to read a couple of his posts, or follow his blog. He updates it when he can, or if the mood hits him hard enough. And sometimes I think he just wants to know that he is not alone.

http://abovethelower48.blogspot.com/2012/11/0-0-1-961-3960-full-sail-60-2-4919-14.html

Soooo tired!

Applications, resumes and job searching! Laying your employed self out there for all to see! YUCK! I wish the process was easier, but I guess whining about it is not going to make it so. Of course job hunting and 3am don't mix well either. Oh well. I felt the need to just type out a bit of rant without 'Facebooking' it to the world... Maybe someone from Russia will find this interesting LOL

Dark We Are Not

The Dark Time is over!! Thankfully it's been a fairly bright Fall, but none the less I am always happier when it's brighter outside.

I may have written before how I never believed that Alaska is as dark as others complain. I can't even begin to express how much I love how bright I think my state is than the rest of the Union. I lived in the Seattle Area for a year in my 20's. It was the then and in a subsequent road trip back to Alaska that I realized how not dark my home state was. And it floors me to this day when people complain about, or fear, our "sunless" state. People, we may lack a little direct sunlight a few months of the year, but trust me, we ain't dark.

I remember the first time I experienced real dark, it was the road trip back to Alaska from Washington state via California-Oklahoma (don't ask, it's how we roll). After a fun filled and dare I say, soggy camping trip and sight seeing tour of the coast of Washington and Oregon, we rolled into Northern California. It was late and we had splurged the night before for a hotel to escape the rain. So to save money and get some quick rest, we decided to pull over at the next rest stop on the Pacific Coast Highway.

So as we settled down, me making sure the kids were sleeping comfortably and warm, George turns off the interior lights. I grab my coat and blanket myself, getting all comfy in my seat and then the worst happens. George turned OFF the running lights. I freaked. I admit it. I yelped and then begged for the light to be turned on. I could not see my hands in front of my face (the first time I had ever believed that statement, by the way).

I was a complete baby, because for the first time in my entire life I had experienced total and complete darkness. 'Oh come on!' you say, 'You are from Alaska'... Yes I am from Alaska and no, it does not get dark like that here.

In Alaska we have these incredible and wondrous summers, with the most direct sunlight available on the planet. 'Yea, yea.' mumbles you, 'everyone knows that'; and 'that is the only season with light', you blather on. Oh, but you don't know then, do you? If summer is riff with direct sunlight then nearly the rest of the year is completely doused in indirect light.

I can still see for miles, at night, in the middle of winter. Tell me you can do that in Texas, or California in winter. You can't, not even in summer. And why not? We have snow. The snow is an incredible reflector. It can take moonlight and create the most incredible landscapes in the middle of night. And if we have no moonlight? Stars, a million little sparkling dots of light in the sky. They light up the world, so very much more faint then moonlight, but they do. And rarely, on occasion, we get Northern Lights. Now usually I am too busy watching the display to bother looking around and seeing the mountain ranges or other surroundings, but they add light.

I have been on drives from Anchorage to Fairbanks and been able to watch the beautifully jagged mountain ranges over 50 miles away from the highway we are on, without any help at all. In moonlight you can see in near perfect detail the ridges and valleys draped over the mountain sides. Rocky out croppings and snow covered slops. I have looked over snow covered valleys and seen with eerie precision the edge of the evergreen forests that blanket it randomly with just starlight. You simply can not do that in the middle of the night in the Lower 48. I tried. Even when we were in the middle of the desert in Nevada after 10pm, away from Vegas, the star light could not make up for the lack of reflected light.

Even in Spring you can see, there is lots of snow to reflect light. And the days are getting longer to boot, how can that be dark, I ask you?

The only time I think it is dark is in October or November IF we have no snow on the ground. The daylight hours are short and with the dark ground and mountains behind my house, there is little to no light reflection. I get all antsy and wait for the days that the snow comes to blanket the yard and add my winter dose of reflected lumens. Plus the Halloween season can make a snowless yard look a lot creepier.

I patiently wait for the snow, and I always always feel a little sigh of relief when that first snow fall sticks. Cause I know in the mornings I will be able to see out my front door and not have to worry about the dark again for another year.

My sorta new blog

For the last month or so, I have been doing a lot of writing. I just haven't been writing here in my 'Everyday' blog. I have been enjoying putting out some of my more creative (so say I) pieces instead of making fun of myself or others on this blog.

I am going to post an link and perhaps soon I will be back to sticking my nose out there, being silly and just enjoying the sound of the keyboard clicking after 1am.

http://duplicaterwritelyrighting.blogspot.com/

Though I am no pro, I really enjoy trying to get something I see or feel and write it out. It certainly helps me keep up on my spelling skills but in no way does it make me a Super Hero, (finding that out was sorta disappointing). Enjoy and feel free to leave comments. (I am just saying that because no one usually does)

Twilight

Something about the Twilight Saga hits me in an emotional softspot, and brings around a reaction so unexpected that I almost can not comprehend it. 

I think I can pinpoint it to Bella. I can't understand her blatant misunderstanding of her relationship with Edward nor can I comprehend her constant self depreciation. I was under the impression only real people can act or feel so unworthy.

I felt so disheartend while I was reading through all 4 books in the saga. I tore through them as fast as I could, trying to reach the end of the story like I do with most book series I read. But I found myself irritable and unsociable. I reflected on these feelings I had on nearly a daily basis. I have been know to throw a temper and loose my cool under stress, but I found myself in bad mood the whole while I was reading the books.

In most books the heroine has some selfworth installed into her programing and she uses her strength, wits and love to help her overcome all obstacales in her way. Bella has this ability to to defeat herself before she even leaves her bedroom. Her lack of confidence in her appearance and personality makes me want to shake some sense into her.

I do not think I was really mad at Bella, but I think I was relating to her. Oddly I was not fearful while she was fearing, nor was I sad while she was at the depths of dispair. I was sitting with her in class when she first moved to Forks, thinking how plain and ordinary she is. How unremarkable her personality is.

As I got further into the books and the relationship with Edward started her faults progressed. Unlike other leading women in a story, she felt unworthy of his love and attention, and nearly seemed to wait on a daily basis for him to say 'I am tired of you'.

I am the worlds biggest cheerleader for the underdogs and I was cheering for her from the beginging but it started to become a chore to think of the positivisms to help her become more confident in her relationship with Edward. I know, I sound weird cheering for a character that does not exisit to change her actions and feelings that have been penned in stone; but hey if you know me, you understand.

This is one of the more unique characters I have ever delved into, and I find watching the movies brings out the same feelings I had while reading the books. I believe I will be able to watch all the movies, but I highly doubt I will be able to watch them all in successive order nor will I be able to read all 4 books altogether again.

No More Dr. Pepper...

You have to know me well to understand the sadness associated with this narrative. It all goes back when I was small, sweet child.  My parents being the thrifty and conscientious types never lets their children have steady meals of McDonald's or other local fast food joints. The one indulgence was a pizza dinner from Shakey's once ever month or so. What came with this fabulous dinner was the universal greasy pizza chaser, 7-Up. "Pop" as my parents called it. I called it gold. I loved to savor the bubbly clearness as it washed over my tongue and tickled my throat on its final journey. If you are thinking I never really had much soda in my young life, and you are quite right.

It was not until I hit high school and had to wander the halls of East High with my little group of wanderers that I found my true love. The story of what and why we wandered is fodder for another tale, but sufficed to say, I had to keep hydrated on these 40-minute jaunts. The popular beverage of choice was of course Coke Classic. Most of you can remember when Coke made the mistake of making a NEW Coke for the NEW generation to compete with Pepsi, however in their misguided attempts to win the youth over, they eventually realized they needed to cater to their existing client base. They brought back the "classic" flavor, or so they said. Everyone knew by then that the original recipe had been lost in European back packing tour and had to be reinvented. With this new invention came the throng of people who decided they hated Coke, and I would be one of them. I found a more wondrous and glorious bubbly flavor to dance on my tastes buds; Dr Pepper. It was the nectar of the gods, the water of life, the best damn carbonated beverage ever available! Thus began my love affair with the beverage established in 1885 as "King of Beverages"…

I left high school and started a family, and found that with every Taco Bell craving my pregnancies could muster seemed to involve my very own large cup of Dr Pepper! Imagine my happiness as I lay in bed at night after a filling burrito meal and having an in-utero child play a one-person soccer game with my liver as a goal post. I suppose the burst of caffeine may have affected a child or two, but most of the time the weirdness is associated with the maternal side of the family.

As you can picture, by the time I truly became addicted I was downing cans of the "good stuff" like it was going out of style. I would often find a can sitting on my computer desk where I was just sitting with nearly ¼ of soda left, and a new can in my hand. To my defense I have never been much of a coffee drinker and everyone knows you need caffeine to function in any sense nowadays.

Knowing that I was consuming copious amounts of calories every day, I had decided to switch to diet drinks, and anyone who has done the same thing knows that once you go diet, you can't go back.

For those of you wondering where the sadness of my story comes from, it is the simple fact that I had decided to stop drinking any and all soda on Friday, January 12^th I just wanted to see if I could do it really, it was more of a trifle than anything. I did extremely well until the night of January 15^th. On that fateful night, I decided I was behaving extremely well and had not had one soda for 3 whole days! Hearing the air rush out of my cold can of Diet Dr Pepper, I began to salivate. I lifted the lip of the chilled aluminum to my mouth and savored the artificially sweet, peppery goodness as it washed over my parched mouth. Surprisingly I drank this can with slow deliberation, trying to relish it's bubbly goodness. Then, much to my chagrin my stomach began to feel rather perturb. It took 2 more sips of my life's blood to realize, it was my favored soda, my dearest Dr Pepper. My stomach could not handle the phosphoric acid, natural and artificial flavors, sodium benzoate or phenylketonurics! I was understandably worried. I had but one small hope this might be a small set back or just a fluke, so the next night, I tried another can. You can only imagine the screams that came from my home that night, I am sure that is why the neighborhood was cased by cops for the better part of the evening.

Do you think I would let just 2 nights of testing my theory be the defining proof I needed to tell myself I could not plan on drinking anymore of my beloved soda without suffering dire consequence? See, you all who said no, know me just a little too well. I'm scared of you now and please leave my page and quit stalking me, m'kay? Back to my narrative; I have since tried ONE more can, but sadly I believe my body has won and will not let me put such unnatural substances in it. It is a shame, but I am sure that the Nestle Instant Iced Tea guys are waiting for the stocks to jump. I plan on spending the rest of my life drinking iced tea… take this as insider trading information and make yourself a few million bucks at my expense.

This was originally written January 17, 2007

Writing

Written originally May 16, 2008:

Writing; a form of communication. The act of a person or thing that writes. Characters or matter written with a pen or the like. A way of expressing thought and ideas.

I love writing, and I didn't realize it until, of course, writing was no longer one of those things I *had* to do. That last year I had in high school was the year I felt that pull of wanting to show off my literary sense. Sadly it was the shortest year I had ever experienced in high school, as I was a new mom and started to feel the pull of taking care of my kid over trying to finish an education I didn't think I would need or want.

I was elated when I entered a small vocational college and had to take a Compsition class. I hated a couple of the books I was required to read, but loved to write the reviews and reports on the various genre of assignments my teacher assigned.

Move a few years later and you have the world wide web, and the ever popular invention of blogs. I never thought I would find a place where I could just write to my hearts content. It didn't matter who read them or what people said about them; just the enjoyment of pumping out some "matter written with a pen or the like", the like being my trusty keyboard.

I really enjoyed finding ways to put my thoughts down in black and white. I don't care if people loved my work or not. I got a kick out of remembering proper writing rules and breaking nearly every one of them. If I could take a red pen to my screen while writing I would. And proof reading and correcting, who could hate that, right?

Maybe as I continue to mature (read *age*) I will even find some love for mathmatics, but I think that should be a different blog...

Darkness

She sat. Her white shift draped over her as she waited. Her surroundings enveloped her. The walls were indistinguishable from the floor, built with darkness. Her cell would be called black, if not for the total lack of color that settled about her. The rough hewn rocks had a way of draining away anything that called itself life from a body. The surface of the walls and floor were hard, but not cold. The heavy stone bench dispassionately supported her little body as she sat numbly losing track of time. It offered no comfort, no hope of solace.

The Voice waited. It knew her inner turmoil, boiling inside her. It knew her own thoughts would gnaw at her very foundation of sanity. Still it waited

She had let her head hang, letting her hair fall with gravity, not one dark hair moved. She tried to listen to her heartbeat, some little ray of hope, but she could not hear it. The only noise was her short gasps, but she could not hear that either. The sounds in her mind were the only thing she could hear. Her mind was slowly churning with thoughts. Dark thoughts, ones that stabbed fear into her very core.

The voice was waiting for her to move, show some indication she was on the verge of breaking. It's patience was eternal, it had no need for metering time, it just waited. Knowing it's time would come.

Her thoughts never stopped. They kept playing over and over in her mind, taking different shapes trying to pursuade her she can find a solution, find a way to wander out of this labyrinth. Distant hums of conversation eerily begged her to hear them, to understand what they wanted from her. The first drip of sweat crossed her brow and ran the length of her nose waiting to drip.

The Voice sees it starting, oh the anticipated moment was nearly here. Her hair was damp from perspiration. The first little shakes made her hair do a jerky dance. Just a little more time to wait, oh it's nearly here.

The shift was clinging to her shaking shoulders. Her hands in balled up fists, her nails dug into the palm of her hands. She couldn't keep what was suppose to be real, what was her life and the images she did not understand from intertwining. The thoughts danced in chaos with no order. A small whimper escaped her lips.

The room was quiet again. The stone bench was empty. Her frail body lay on the floor, her pale lifeless face pointed into nothingness. Her matted hair clung around her porcelain features, her eyes mercifully closed. The room became more dark, more horrible. The Voice knew it was the only way to survive.

Good Enough

From time to time I get music stuck in my brain, not really just the song, but the feelings I have associated with it too. Today is one of those days, and this is the song.

Good Enough

Songwriter: Amy Lee

Under your spell again.

I can't say no to you.
Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand.
I can't say no to you.

Shouldn't let you torture me so sweetly.
Now I can't let go of this dream.
I can't breathe but I feel...

Good enough,
I feel good enough for you.

Drink up sweet decadence.
I can't say no to you,
And I've completely lost myself, and I don't mind.
I can't say no to you.

Shouldn't let you conquer me completely.
Now I can't let go of this dream.
Can't believe that I feel...

Good enough,
I feel good enough.
It's been such a long time coming, but I feel good.

And I'm still waiting for the rain to fall.
Pour real life down on me.
'Cause I can't hold on to anything this good enough.
Am I good enough for you to love me too?

So take care what you ask of me,
'cause I can't say no.

Teaching...

I have been looking for a job for a little while now, things I am familiar with like receptionist or secretarial type work, but also in an environment that I know I will be comfortable with. While pursuing through available jobs in a Native corporation in Anchorage, I found a listing for Science Teacher.

I knew about a program through the local school district that works with Native kids almost on a tutoring level so I didn't realize they had actual teachers working for them. I of course clicked the link and read up on it.Yup a full blown 4 year college, teaching certificate teacher. I was a little disappointed about the list of what you needed to teach young minds. But, I was pleasantly surprised that I had actually anticipated finding out whether I could qualify for a job like that.

I had thought my "teaching bug" was something I decided would not happen in this lifetime. I had thoughts of college and earning a teaching degree. I knew I wanted a pack kids, but something in me said, you can have that horde and a million more if you were a teacher. However when I got pregnant and married (yes, in that order) working on a goal like that would end up being pretty unfair in the short run to a young family. It was something that I let going knowing I would have kids and they would be my own. I was, and am, happy about that.

Then something happened back when my eldest daughter was 10. My husband and I being rabid baseball and softball fans, and former little league participants, thought our kid would probably have fun playing softball for our local little league. In my mind, she was the ultimate superstar. She was so willing to learn and try everything they were showing her on the field in practice and at games. She even decided she wanted to work on pitching, and I had NEVER seen a kid push themselves as hard I had seen her at one of our last All-Star games. On the mound, all red faced and tired, trying her damnedest to make the pitches hittable or strike them out right at the plate. She was never perfect, but her attitude and her willingness to keep going earned superstar points from me.

Of course my focus was on my kid, what parent wouldn't think to come up with ways of how this could be better, or how could we buy her that to help her out? But I noticed something else. I watched the coaches, I wanted people around her that would be of value, people who would care and be there for her. They pretty much bar parents from rushing on to the field and giving their kid some one on one instruction on how to make a proper throw or stop a ball, or to keep their chin up-it's okay, totally understandable. But what I noticed is that the coach seemed to pretty stressed. She was a sweet and young gal. She was great with the kids, understanding and helpful, she cared. But she always seemed to not be able to please every parent all the time. It was a lot for her and she resigned shortly before All-Stars started. That sorta left the team out to dry, but luckily the league arranged for a coach from another league to help out, we had to combined with this second league to make an All-Star team anyways and he was more than happy. He did need a 2nd coach to help out. I of course volunteered my husband. We had coach some beginning skill level girls the first 3 years of our marriage, but life got in the way and we never went back when I own kids needed us more, but I had thought he would be a great addition.

How much better it felt to have a little more control in molding those young minds, I can't tell you. I didn't disagree with the young gal who started us off, but I knew that I had some knowledge that could be useful for this group of girls. When the opportunity presented it's self, my husband and myself were able to coach the group of the girls on our own, we took it. I relied on George to make sure we got the strategic and technical stuff down, I worked on skills and team building. I didn't know that I would be walking into a sort of Nirvana. I had found a zen.

I am sure that most of those girls would want to clobber me, for all the silly little mundane drills on technique and body movement, but I loved to see them execute perfectly, or attempt it even if it was a fail. I did that for 10 years. I ended up having the "millions of kids" I wanted. A few of them I wanted to take home and call them my own. A lot of them I still see today, adults (I feel OLD) and talk with them about life. Of course there is a couple of them I give hugs and encouragement to when they need it, just like when they were kicking themselves for missing that fly ball.

I got to teach them something. I am sure my goal was this technique for pitching or that move for base running, but I think I taught them more than that. I like to hope I taught them more than that. I became a teacher without going to school, without a teaching certificate, with only my love of the game and my heart to give them my all. I got to live a dream, and I didn't take time to drink it in. I have not been on the field in two years to coach, I really do miss it terribly. But I have budding thoughts in my mind that are getting hard to ignore.

I can always find away to be out there and teach, I suppose, and maybe it is a time in my life I need to look at that again. If I could find a way to get out there and mold young minds, I believe I am gonna do it, and I don't think it's all the Pink Floyd I have been listening to that is talking. It's one of the few things about me I really love bragging about, and maybe that is a sign. So in the way life works, maybe this is the beginning of another journey, who knows? I might tell you about it when I get there though, just you wait and see.

Hallelujah

Music does not play in my head to accompany my life, I look for the music to put there... 

Every song I listen to makes me think of you.
The places you have been left their mark on my mind

Thinking of traveling with you makes me smile
Things we have said make me laugh

I enjoy the thought of exploring life with you
I want to see what you see, with my eyes

I bide my time waiting for life to intertwine
I pray the wait is short and sweet

But I would wait for you on the edge of forever
Knowing everything will be all right.

Absentee Ballot

I have not been on in a while, very bad of me. Not that I heard any complaints, but I did say I was doing this for myself.

I have been a very busy human the last 12 days. My eldest child, who was 10 days past her due date, had her son on the 10th, after 28 hours of labor at the hospital. Everything went very well, with minimal stress to Momma and Baby, and little Jonathan is so precious. I was part of the birth team but I also got to leave and sleep in my own bed a couple of times, which was probably a life saver.

I have been getting to know my newborn grandson, having his mommy visit, hanging out with my middle grandson (his big brother), helping my eldest son get to a from work occasionally, spending time with his two children.

Then a myriad of errands with my husband, everything from replacing his stolen phone to picking up socks before he left on his bowling trip.

Then I allowed for errands I needed to do.....whew I'm getting tired again from typing and reading it all.

I am not complaining, just busy. I feel a lot more like I did before I stopped working. Productive, cheerful and checking things off my to-do-list. Not too bad of a feeling.

I will try to make an effort to write a bit more in the coming days. My husband is out of town and I get all sleep deprived when I am alone at night. I might even come up with a couple of crazy ideas and put them to pen, as it were.

...have you heard the one about the alien abduction?

WHEW! Life can be so overstimulating. How? Waiting for daughters to go into labor, visiting with grand-kids, visiting with friends, getting ready for holidays and birthdays, dishwasher pipes clogged with artichoke trimmings, breaking snow records, watching Spring fly into action, cats and dogs living together and shopping at the grocery store!

But I, armed with my savvy internet knowledge, favorite stones from Kenai, my quartz crystal and some nice meditation music have broken through the mental fog. It was dicey for a bit, but now that my weekend has been rolling right along, I just may turn off the "fasten your seat-belts" sign.

I hope the holiday and season treat ya well, but always remember to treat yourself better.

Hate...very strong word

Hate. It is a very strong word. I really try not to use it unless I know the feeling is very appropriate. I hated the Brussels sprouts I had when I was a kid. They tasted like dirt, I didn't want to even pretend to like them. Not even to make my mom happy.

The opposite of hate is, love. Also a very strong word. I try not to use that unless I mean it too. I love my kids, I love the movie Wizard of Oz.

Am I suppose to find a balance between the two? I don't feel I can have one without the other. It seems we are taught from a young age to love. Be nice, be fair, be kind. Most childhoods don't involve cultivating hatred or other negative discord. But surprisingly enough, it is hard to love everything.

There are people I strongly dislike, I don't hate them, but it is so very difficult for me to like them. My upbringing says I should just love them. Oh isn't that just craziness. Some sort of impossible dream? Whether I think it worth it or not, I should love, in some manner, others no matter if I think them worthy of that love or not. At least that is what I was raise to believe.

I might be a good sponsor for brotherly love, and universal peace, and happiness; sometimes I think people who know me try to tell me I am very kind and loving. But I never think I will ever be perfect enough to do a job like that. Not that there is a job out there like that. That being said, I feel flawed.

Flawed in the fact that I find it very hard to love myself. I even think to myself that I hate me. After thinking it over, that is not an appropriate use of that feeling. But I feel like I want to keep trying to figure out a way to make it fit. Tell myself all the awful and horrible things I have done to others and myself in my past. Knock myself off my high horse and face the truth that I am not a worthy human being.

Maybe because I think I have to be a shining knight on a white horse, it is hard for me to deal with my own personal discord? I may never find the perfect answer, but maybe if I think this over and search my inner feelings I can find a balance in myself. Maybe

Turning Back Time

Well damn it, it's been 6 days since I last posted. I should be ashamed. But to my credit I have been super busy. My best bud, Jamie from high school swung through the city on his way to his dad's place, on the Kenai Peninsula.

It was a total whirlwind adventure. I got some stoic stares from the husband who can't handle my wild nature as regaled him with stories of how I buzzed around town with Jamie. It was like being in high school in a quasi haze with less hair and larger waist lines. Oh, and I'm not dis'in my friend, I was referring to myself LOL

I actually got to see him firstly with an accidental text message. He asked me at 1:00am if it was too late to visit. I was thinking it's too fricking late, I need sleep but didn't really word that text to say "please stay away". I am really glad I didn't. He stayed from 1:30 to 3:30 and we got to catch up uninterrupted by phone calls or kids wandering by with the odd question or showing off their stuff.

After a little bit of sleep, he came and picked me up and off we went. We had lunch at a pizza pub with some friends from high school the first day. His poor 21 year old daughter felt a bit out of the loop listening to us talk about people she will probably never meet, doing crazy things she didn't think we could imagine doing. Sometimes youth is wasted on the young.

After lunch, Jamie and I hung out at my house and we got to chat about his work some more and then he invited me to dinner with one of the gals we had lunch with and her kids at an all you can eat buffet. That was fun too, but mostly because we were teasing the teenagers and picking on Jamie. It was pretty much awesome, except the cricket on the table. Needless to say, I am not going back there for a while...

After dinner, Jamie graciously drove me over to my son's apartment so I could check on him. Just a mom worried about her adult child with a sinus infection. Then he drove around looking for apartment he used to live in. Which by the way, he did a good job of finding most of them. He did this last time he was in town. Looking at old haunts, remembering memories.

On the way home we even stopped by a lake that a whole group of us used to walk around after curfew on summer nights. Being teenagers and thinking we were all that. The lake was frozen so I got to stand in a spot I know I had not been before. If there were magical skates I would of stayed out all night skating under the stars.

The next day, he had to go visit his dad, the reason he is up here from the Lower 48. The cool thing though, is that I know he will be swinging by on his way out of the state and I might get to carousing with my youth again.

SPRING Fever!

I think I have the beginnings of Spring Fever. I wanted to dance in the snow covered yard barefoot, because I had sunlight dancing through the living room windows. It is a feat because these are my north facing windows. The orbit of the planet is allowing me direct sunlight into my favorite room in the house. YAY

And for anyone wondering if I really did dance in the snow, my feet declined the invitation.

TLC

I got an impromptu invite to a big dinner today...the call came in around 8pm the previous night. Even being a short notice kind of thing, it was the best dinner get togethers I have had in a long time.

Saturday would have been my Grandmother's 83rd birthday, she passed away in 2000. My little cousin Tilo, who is 9, thought it would be nice to have a birthday party for the great-grandmother he never met. So his mom, my cousin Maria, made some calls and got herself cooking and we had a FEAST!

There was roasted turkey, corned beef and cabbage, potato salad, steamed veggies, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, stuffing and pineapple upside down cake, my Grandma's favorite.

It was a great afternoon being with my family. My mom, my aunt and her boyfriend, my cousin her husband and her 3 boys, my daughter and her toddler, my husband and my two little boys. Being with family is something that warms your heart and heals what ails you. It's something I need to do more often.

Moonsensical

Been playing with my rocks again. I always seem to get so freaking tired when I mediate with them, but as long as I use my powers for good, it should okay, right?

I had the coolest sensation when I was using my moonstone yesterday. It is flat and shaped into a heart, it looks so very opalescent, and it fits well between both hands. But I started to rub it. No real reason, I just started to rub my hands back and forth, each hand opposing the other in direction and the stone became very warm, nearly hot.

After I rubbed it for nearly a minute, I stopped suddenly. I kept my hands locked together and felt throbbing between my hands. The warmness of the friction and the beats from the rock made it feel for just a moment, that the stone was completely alive.

Just so you know a little about me, I am practical, almost too practical at times. I like order, in a sense, and to schedule things. But I can be spontaneous and I also like to believe there is more out there. I can be pretty open minded. That being said, I can believe that the friction from my hands cause the stone to warm to an usual level, and the throbbing I felt was my own heartbeat felt by my hands because of all the activity and stimulus I had preformed rubbing my hands together for so long.

Pretty plausible, except for the heart-rate of those heartbeats. I felt the throbbing for nearly 30 seconds after I stopped. My hands felt all buzzy from the friction but I felt the heartbeat through that buzzy feeling. And that heartbeat I felt was pretty regular, around 60 beats per minute, the rate of a resting adult, like myself. But then it dropped down to about half that rate and then back up to the speed it was at first. My 41 year old ticker is okay, I have had it checked before, but I am pretty sure my heart-rate does not drop down to an dangerously low level at any given time.

I know from reading, the moonstone has been venerated for thousands of years. It is considered an psychic stone and can help channel your abilities. It can help in a time of change. It helps women in nearly all phases of their lives from conception to childbirth. It is a very empathetic stone to help those in need.

It could be possible I unlocked something. I would like to hope I did. I love to help people, and I want to know more about life and others. Maybe me and my little moonstone will be using my power for good after all.

Anger...My Middle Name?

I have a terrible temper! I really do. But I am learning, whether it is tempered by age (I'm 41, and am beginning to have a little age cred) or something I have been taught over the years, to not have it explode like Mt Vesuvius in a torrent of words with no punctuation or paragraphs.

I successfully indicated to a woman, who has never met me, over the phone that I will be a very upset person if I became a lost phone message. I was very polite, I do not think I changed my volume by more than a hair and my use of grammar was better than my average chop at the father language.

Instead of waiting what I thought would be 30 minutes (did I mention I was a little impatient?), I received a call within 5 minutes of leaving said message.

What I really wanted to do was ripe that poor woman a new one. I was almost seeing those odd Picasso-ish red splotches floating in my visual field. But I realized that she was just a messenger and it was not her fault the whole department I needed to do business with was in a meeting.

Why you ask, would I need to lose my temper? I seem like a reasonable and possibly understanding adult who does not mind getting along with society. It is very simple: I have a sick kid who is in pain. My little wayward, waif daughter is hurting and has a fever. Yes, she is 18. Yes, she basically moved herself out of my house because she "is 18". Yes, I been eating that up like yesterday's humble pie.

But I had another pre-programmed impulse fire up engines. Yup, the Mommy Instinct moved in.

It's not often I use the Mommy Instinct to get things done right for my kids. But I really felt like a Mamma Bear just out of hibernation and ready to take down a forest to care for her. Now I get to take care of her, my poor baby. I bet you some of my nonexistent money that she feels just a little better being "home" again.

I feel better right now than I have felt in a little while. I am pretty proud I didn't follow my initial instinct, and I feel much more comfortable being able to follow a more familiar instinct. As always, this will be an interesting week.