Open Letter “Conscious Coupling” …Penguin Love…Please!

So let me begin this letter by letting you know what I’m not.

I’m not a Phd or Md or even a D for that matter in Relationships.  Though I do love that letter for obvious reasons.

Nor have I done extensive research backed by grants and funds from prestigious schools of thought on marriage, relationships, and coupledom.

I am also not a Bible thumping believer in marriage at all costs or you will burn in hell and the children will be damned, scarred and forever wander in the desert of “can’t get it right, cuz mommy and daddy ain’t  together no more.  In fact I believe that being together only for the sake of the children can back fire terribly.  I for one prayed nightly for my parents to divorce.  The stress and strain of our parents unhappiness hung like a heavy wet wool blanket on a very hot day. Yuck.

What I am …is a regular

mom

wife

I believe in equal pay for equal work.  A women’s right to choose and bedtime routines.  I believe that kale is amazing, recycling is a must and M’M's can change your outlook on life.

I can also easily grasp the idea that some might not wanna marry at all or procreate.  Great!  Marry and both be Boys or Girls.   Go for it!  You should be allowed to give it a whirl and see how you do just like the rest of us.

I am now and have always been obsessed with people and relationships and what makes them tick.  Not in the gossipy non “Real House Wives” of Whatever-Ville way.   But in the take apart the radio and put it back together…now turn it on does it still play… kinda way.

I was the kid playing in the kitchen while my mom and her friends talked so I could hear the latest.  Collicky babies, men who didn’t want to commit, a new one pot dinner dish…I was hearing it all.

I was born into un-wed parentage, siblings by different fathers and a fierce amazing matriarch spirit who held the family together.  My siblings and I cared nothing for the language of half’s and steps and so no matter our ration of blood we were full and we were love and we were mighty.

I knew God and church and brim stone.  But no matter the brimstone what I hung, clung and clutched between my fingers like my life depended on it was Love.

It was what I searched the hallways of school for, the aisles of the church for, the playgrounds and the streets for…Love.  No matter the upheaval of youth I knew it was all I needed.

“March of the Penguins” have you seen this movie?  Oh the cold and the marching and the eggs and the babies and the mating and the hardship and the seals and the cold.   The bone chilling cold and of course the voice.   I am riveted by this story.  I literally cry every time I see it.  Simply every frame is filled with the fiber of Love.   It helps them survive the weather the hardship the heartbreak the seals…if you ask me it was Love.

I wanted some of that Penguin Love.

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I have read the article of “Conscious Uncoupling”.  I like others giggled a little at the title. Some more New Age-y speak, ok fine bring it on.  Upon reading I loved the point. There has to be a way to take apart, what was once together, in a sane, peaceful dare I say loving way.  I stood up and cheered.  Please oh please can we have more of that.   Even if it comes with a ceremony performed by a group of small pointy nosed men and ashes I’m still in.    But there was one cord that struck me as being off key.  In fact it totally fell flat to my ears and haunted me for days.  It was the idea that… marriage in it’s concept just doesn’t really …well …work… anymore!  We live longer, we cannot expect marriage to last the distance.  I heard biology, psychology, don’t expect…we are not equipped…no work for us no more.

Oh no.

I myself am on my second marriage I could be seen as living in a glass house but I have no stones to throw.  What I do know is that as  I walked down that first aisle towards a kind young man.  I knew like I knew grass looked better green that this was not for me.  And yet I walked and I spoke up when asked and I gave my consent.  I was fresh out of college.  I could blame my youth.  But it would be an untruth.  I knew.  I was clear on the un- rightness of this coupling.  But I was also hopeful in equal measure.  Maybe all that I “saw” and “felt” would grow differently with the right amount of sun, water, jobs and friends.   And then there was his sweetness and his true love of me.  Oh how I needed that Love.  So I reached up and grabbed it with a “I Do”!

“Are you married in a relationship…do you have kids”?  It’s my question.   My party, bbq, social mingle, PTA, church meeting, park bench conversation.  It’s my question.  I believe everyone has one.  A question that though not scientific in nature sheds light on who this new person before us might be.  My aunts question is what school did you attend?  Education is always her question.  My friends question is where do you come from?  Birth location answers a lot I guess.  And another guy friends wants to know what sport what team?  I pity the person with lack of both.

But my question has always been married or not…kids how many?  I have gleaned a lot from the answering of this question.  And more than the actual answer is the way the answer is delivered.  ”Ball and chain” style.  ”Been there done that” style.  ”God help me get out of this hole” style.  ”Surprisingly it’s going well” style.  Oh and my favorite “So far so good” style.  It’s better than a scientology personality test -this question.  What has struck me most in all of my relationship conversation is how very few “surprise” relationship deaths there really are.  In fact I actually stared to view them like an urban legend.  Out of the blue for no reason at all he/ she started to drink, beat, hit, be distant, not care, freak out, bore me to tears, leave.  They literally woke up a different person.  Which I might add is very different then “growing” into another person.  We are all “growing” into something every day depending on the conditions and the weather. Births, deaths, war, finances, jobs, too much or complete lack of chocolate they are all effecting how we grow.  What we have not done so often is turn from being a peach into a turnip.  This evolutionary leap does not happen as often as you might think. There was usually something a little fishy about that peach even in the beginning.

Hmmmm

Most stories I have heard all read like a not so riveting episode of CSI.  Clues clues everywhere clues.   Clues that were ignored or swept over or not taken into evidence properly.    Whether this happened because of youth, naiveté, slow on the uptake, the desire to see the best in people or really great sex.   Most are not payed attention to for one simple reason.  The “if I know then I have to do something” line of thinking.  If I fain being duped then I’m not responsible to do anything.  And since we are not ready to “Do” anything we plead the fifth, cross our fingers and hope for the best.  Well of course until there is just one… smack, lie, not showing up, lazy ass on couch, no ambition, unkind, arrogant, rude, unthoughtful, selfish, drinking, uncaring, eating with mouth open, aaaaahhh moment too many.  And then with one huge AHA!!!   We suddenly know what we must do ….run, jump, divorce, sever, leave, escape this Loch ness  monster.

Yikes

I have been made to watch a gazillion nature shows with my kiddies.  The Kratt Brothers, David Attenborough and Morgan Freeman narrate my days.

I have always been struck by the symmetry of nature.  The adaptation.   The single minded focus of survival.  Just the decision on which water hole to drink from is the difference of life or death for the herd.  Every species has their “way” of doing things but guaranteed all roads lead to optimal chance of survival model.  Survival of the young being highest on the list.  They are in fact their tomorrow their ultimate survival ticket.

The human species seem to be the only ones bucking the system.  We are like breakdown on eco system number nine.  It seems to me and yes correct me if I am wrong that it takes two to make a thing go right.  Yep that’s a hip hop song from the mid eighties.  But two not one.  And let’s be extra clear it really takes more than that.  In case you haven’t heard it takes a Village.  Aunties and Uncles and Grandparents and Friends and Peoples.  But in the beginning to “make a life” it takes two.  Even if you find a way to be one…if you want  to make a child it’s gonna take two.  And again correct me if I am wrong but it seems our species our children seem to do better (again arguably) with two.  We are talking optimal health.   Optimal survival.  Some ying some yang I’m not talking sex…I’m talking energy.  I’m talking about a family unit and I’m talking about everyones happiness.  I’m sure some single parents are as happy as a pie lover in a pie shop.  But I think if given the right person a little help and some partnership might really come in handy.  Again I could be wrong.

And yet with the idea of Conscious Uncoupling we again embrace the idea that we are not “made” to do the two thing successfully.  For very long.  But since we can’t kick the kids out until at least 18 yrs old (ok fine maybe 16 yrs old in some states) and you know they still wanna stay past that.   Then we are saying that “We the people” are not “built” for their optimal happiness model.

Ugh

Just a moment I want to raise a tentative hand in the back of the class and ask.  If every other species has in their DNA their ultimate survival game plan. Might not we also have this blueprint in our DNA.  The ability to couple successfully for the ultimate survival and health and happiness of all involved.

Might this be “the way we were naturally designed”  Might there be a homing device in us that turned on might attract the “really good for me” person for my person.

The reason that I pose this is that. What if we “knew” in our cells that coming together and being together for life was natural and the way we are “really built”.    Might that feeling, that idea alone change the very nature of the union for our species.  Might it release the ball and chain, the holding me down, the locked up, boring, same every day, no more excitement, sex with the same person ugh idea of …what marriage has become.  Might it slowly start to thaw out the idea that it’s all just a crap shoot and that  we are somehow going against our million sperm count to even try.  Might we raise our boys and girls with the idea that marriage is great and good and fun and might that very idea produce a different outcome.

Einstein ( i think it was him who said)  Just the observation changes a thing.  Just the intent changes the out come.  Just like the idea that school is hard, authority is oppressive, doing good in school is for the social rejects colors some kids school days for the worse. Most parents agree that unless you were born already knowing how to read, write and add.  Your butt needs to go to school.  Just because it’s challenging does not mean you don’t have to go.  Just because  it pulls it pushes, it makes your kids stress and strain.  Even with the occasional boring teacher, or “overly” tough teacher.  We don’t adapt to the idea that “school is just not natural”  You know why because at our core we know two things…#1 the desire to learn is primal ask any parent watching a baby learn to move.  You don’t really “teach” them to walk one day they are gonna want that cookie across the room and they are gonna  scoot, crawl, walk or run to get it. #2 IMG_3912Well it’s just necessary for our survival. Cold cave man meet fire.  And so we press on.  We seek out great schools and inspiring teachers we search to see how our kid learns and how we can match their innate desire to a skill.  We look for ways to stir the embers and light the fire.  We know whether it’s sports or numbers, dance or the horn section once a child catches fire they are unstoppable.

And so before we add more fuel to the fire that is already burning so brightly that we are somehow not meant to be together …for that duration…under these circumstances in our lives today.

Before we do that.

Let’s sit with the idea for just a moment.  That somehow the coming together with the perfect “for us” mate, that uplifts us and champions us, comforts us and sits with us.  Someone who if you decide yes on children will stay and help raise them.  And then later will rock on the porch with you as the light turns to twilight.

Whatever sex, color or creed.

There is a someone for your someone.

For the sake of the children for our species survival.

Let’s just rest on the naturalness of that…

for a moment

Please

kisses

 

 

I’m putting away my Thug Life…For Good!

I’m trying to calm myself. I am taking ragged deep breaths and trying to calm myself.  I am on a gurney, taking ragged deep breaths, trying to pray and calm myself.  I am on a gurney, in the ER, taking ragged deep breaths, praying and trying to calm myself.

Sweat is pooling with the tears as I look over to see doctors and nurses moving about calmly taking care of patients methodically. Nothing like the ER’s I’d seen on TV.  No urgency that I could detect. More sweat puddles more tears fall and I close my eyes and pray.  And then it happens the pain is finally too much to bear and I slowly reach out a shaking hand to stop a passing nurse. “I’m sorry but how much longer before I see a Doctor?” “Cuz you see my leg is inverted and out of socket and it’s getting too much for me to bear” This nurse looks at me like “WTF” and then says ” You mean right now your leg is inverted RIGHT now!!! “yes I say” she starts to quickly unwrap my leg brace and sure enough there is my knee completely out of socket and inverted. Now the whole scene speeds up as if on cue to RED ALERT STAT. I am being wheeled into a room Doctors and Nurses are everywhere. They are throwing around words like heart rate dropping how long has she been like this, and she could lose her leg.  I am being spoken too in urgent calm tones. Dahn Dahn I’m gonna give you a shot and then we are gonna pull…I mean try to put your knee back into place.  1, 2 , 3…Yep there’s the pinch of a needle and then I’m being held down by 5 people as I hear “Can I get a whoop whoop” by JayZ featuring Ja Rule playing in my head. Minutes later as I come too with an oxygen mask on my face and a room full of monitors.  The nurse relates that while I was out I told everyone about my boyfriend Ali and how maybe we should wait to call him cuz he’d just left town and we don’t want to freak him out.

REALLY!

My pulse is being checked my knee is the size of a baseball.  They explain how there is a  main artery that runs down your leg and how mine was being obstructed (that’s what happens when your knee is inverted) for over 40 minutes.  Which I hear is not very good for main arteries.  They want to know why I didn’t alert someone earlier?  My answer was sheepish and truly ridiculous.  The truth was I was trying to be good.  I was trying to wait my turn.  I was trying to “THUG it out”.

I was the one who was always putting the “H on my chest” and putting on my “Big Girl Panties” even when I was a little girl.  I learned to toughen up, be quiet and figure it out.  No one likes a whiner and a cryer. Plus in my childhood well there just wasn’t a lot of room for all that being a little girl stuff.  There was so much to get done.  I remember my mom saying “you don’t have to like it but you do have to do it” and well that was my theme.

I didn’t have to like it …but it all had to get done.  But something inside me always rebelled against this idea.  Something always beat to another rhythm of …take care of yourself.  You are worth looking out for.  You deserve to be happy.

Happy?

I married (my boyfriend) and he knew how to take care of himself.  He took time out when he needed it got massages when he needed to and ate very healthy and good for him.  I was in awe.  At the same time he was a doer and a mover and a hard worker.  Was I looking at balance? Wow!  He didn’t like martyrs or those who chose to suffer.  Working hard was one thing…suffering was optional.

When we first met him I had been plagued by nightmares for years.  I would wake up in a total sweating panic and he would ask me what happened?  The theme was always the same.  I was in life and death danger in full view of other people.  But I couldn’t cry out because I had a gun to my side.  Or they told me there was a gun to someone else’s head that I loved.   No matter what there was always something in the way of ME saving myself.  In one dream I would even finally work up the courage to shout out for help after being in terror for God knows how long only to find I had no Frickin Voice I was a mute.

Seriously?

I was instructed by my boyfriend to take a Machete back into my dream.  Yep a Machete a Gun a Sword any weapon my choice.  The instructions were to hack, shoot, slice through whomever or whatever was trying to terrorize me.  Shout! Yell!! Scream!!  Tell them to do their worst I was instructed not to EVER go Quietly again!  Fight Fight and Never Surrender!!

The nightmares subsided.  But the theme still had its hold on me.

Becoming a mom only exasperated this.  You know Mom’s are Super Hero’s right!

Now you really have to do for another.  I mean their little lives depended on it.  It was a role I was born to play.  Up late.  In bed last.  House always clean everything just so.  No time for taking time.  Always on to what I didn’t finish what I still didn’t get done. I was a hamster on a wheel destination Martyr- dom.

Good Luck.

My hubby would look on shaking his head as I lay there exhausted “still deciding to suffer huh”  Still don’t want to sit down huh.  Still don’t want to rest huh?  Ok!

During the early kid years I would have breakdown moments of resentment and sadness. Annoyance and anger.  I was such the victim.  I always did the hard work I never have any help…yelp yelp yep.  What about me…What about me… What about ME!!!

Well What about you!

One day I got up after a long night with one of the kiddies someone was sick.   The babysitter had arrived and could take over but I didn’t want to go and take a nap.  Oh no I had “things to do.”  All of a sudden I thought about that time in the ER with my knee.  I remembered what my prayer had been the whole time.   I was praying for God to help me.  You know that old story about the guy in the flood that prayed for God to save him.  A car a boat and a helicopter had all come by to rescue him but he wanted “God” to save him.  In heaven he asked God “What Happened why didn’t you save me.  God said SHH …I sent a car a boat and a helicopter!

Come On!!

In my own life God had sent all these people strangers, friends, family, a Husband to Save me and yet I decided to do it myself and figure it out myself and well …suffer.  I could do it “right” I knew how to do it “better”!  Yeah anyway!!

No more.

Yesterday I had gum surgery.

Again.

Yikes!  I needed to do it without being put under.  Last year I had to do the same thing…no being put under it was Torture, It Was Awful it was Horrible.  I Thuged it out!

This year my husband said NO Nope no more suffering!!!  We will find the money for an anesthesiologist.  NO!!  Well the date had been set and no one was avail.  I had Spring break and my birthday on the horizon and I wanted to be healed and ready to eat everything in sight by then.  No he said.  But I had a plan.  You see I had done a bit of growing since last year.  I had already decided to approach the whole process differently this time.  No ignoring what had to happen until the last minute.  No gritting my teeth and bearing it.  No no no.  So I brought the plan to my husband. He looked at me warily.  He had conditions.   First I would take all pain medication given to me…(don’t ask I don’t want to be a druggie).    Next I would let them know if I needed more Pain medication if the first was not having the desired effect (see the first answer).  Third I would relax and rest in order to recuperate (come on I had stuff to do don’t look like you don’t remember)!

I said Yes and one upped him.  I researched homeopathy and other ways to prepare myself for surgery.  I took the cures and the tinctures  I meditated I prayed I saw the surgery going perfect and smooth.  I cancelled volunteering at the school (gasp) I babied myself for the days leading up. Hair, nails done and done.   Yep I could eat, drink and be merry.  I relaxed I rested I watched funny movies.  My hubby smiled from ear to ear!

The surgery was Perfection.

I am resting today! In fact I have to put away my computer now and get back to …

Taking care of myself!! Yipee!!

My H is still in place.  I still get things done.

But I do not suffer.

My Thuging days are officially

Over!

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Kisses

 

My Fear Pusher my Love Puller…

IMG_7719Soo for starters this is not gonna be long Star… that’s my sister.  She told me yesterday that she skims my posts…yep skims.  My Auntie corrects my spelling and grammar in emails to me (I’m not good at either).   And my sister skimms.  Cuz she says my posts are too long.  Sigh!   I’m a Taurus she’s a Capricorn.  I’m long winded I love words and can’t spell great… what can I say.  But today this one is for her.

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What’s the point what’s the POINT!!!

First the Question.  I’ve been asked, in- boxed emailed, twitt-ed and DM’d with questions about my workouts, my food my life how do I manage how do I stay motivated.  Most common thought on all of it is “You must like it.”   The working out the eating right the raising the kids, the being in love.  With all of it’s work.  You must “like” the getting up early and the cleaning and the laundry and the compromise and the groceries and the making dinner and the CLEANING.   And the understanding and the long days and the whining and the crying and the working out.   The writing and the auditioning and the producing and the Rejection after all the writing and auditioning and producing.  IMG_1479

You do it so you must Like it…or even better “It Comes EASY to you.”

The honest answer is most days I don’t know if I like it or not.  Truly Honest to God I don’t know and I really don’t give a shit.  Because what I know I hate…is messy, ugly, disorder, angry, lonely, plastic, bad food, bad health, jiggly everything, flabby, no purpose, no order, no beauty, no love, kids everywhere with no discipline… hot mess of everything!IMG_0961

Fear has gotten a bad rap.  It’s primal and it keeps us out of danger.  In this case the danger of living a life that is upsetting upon further inspection.  As in later you find you’ve wasted an awful lot of time not being the person you wanted to be.  Someone you were proud of being.  Success is subjective but being and doing your personal best is always in your own hands.IMG_2001

So in case the allure and motivation, of having a great body, a passionate life, fulfilling career, surrounded by love and beauty, doesn’t pull you in.   When all the self- help books and loving posts and posters filled with wonderful affirmations find you still sitting on your tushie in a job you hate…feeling flabby and unloved.

Until then…

Be afraid be VERY Frickin AFRAID!!!!!…. And get your ass up, put yo kids on a schedule, go out with your husband, clean yo house, work out yo body, recycle, compromise, understand, make a list of your goals, spiff up your resume, make a phone call, write an email, make a vision board, start a blog, volunteer, be a friend, be kind, help out, eat awesome food that’s good for you and move your BODY NOW OR ELSE!!!!

and maybe later on…

you might even

Find

that

You

love it…

Kisses

Beyonce…I’m Obsessed a “Mother” of a Rant!

Let me start this off by stating… “I’m a grown woman and I can do whatever I want Hmmm Hmmm”… Oh sorry that’s a Beyonce lyric and I got momentarily caught up with excitement at just the thought of writing about her.  But yes suffice it to say I am a grown woman who is Obsessed with Beyonce Knowles Carter.beyonce-jay-z-gets-drunk-in-love-at-grammys-2014-performances-beyonce-6

Like not the obsessed where I’ve been to all of her concerts, downloaded all of her music, waited outside her hotel screaming and followed her from city to city going to concerts and screaming!  No not that …kind of obsessed.   Though I have no judgement and sounds like tons of fun.   images

In fact now that you mention it I haven’t been to one concert.  Ugh.   I might have downloaded one or two of her cd’s including the new one.   I always seem to be too late to “know” when she is in town. Drat. You see I got kids and work and a husband and a life and to be totally honest me and live concert ticket prices…well we battle with shoes and bags and the lights.

But I like her… a lot a lot.  Like I’m even saving up now for a ticket for when she is next in town.  Because I think she is beyond cute and oh so adorable and oh so pretty and well kinda beautiful in that “is she really that beautiful” kinda way. Like seriously that’s kinda way Beautiful…Right!! . Digressing again. And yes I do find that if in between doing work if she happens to be on the Yahoo news board doing something with that beyond cuteness Baby Girl, or like Singing at the White House or hanging out on a yacht or something with her super cool business tycoon/rapper hubby…yep I’m about 85-90% likely to “click thru”.

And we have so much in common…She’s a mom and I’m a mom.   She’s a woman and I’m a woman… And then there is the whole thing about us being human beings.  Ok I won’t go there.  No I don’t have a mega watt singing career and legions of devoted fans chanting my name and all apart of my “hive” how cool is that.  I’m an ordinary woman and mom and I love watching another woman another mom do it so very unstoppably Awesome!!  Like a serious “Demi Moore pregnant on the cover of Vanity Fair Moment.”  I mean who really took “pregnancy photos” before that?  Come on name someone…I’ll wait.

She has a hubby and a kid and she is rocking it so fashionable and so hard with so much passion and so much grace. I am #MomInspired on full tilt… yes to 5 more minutes of abs and lunges and what oh what am I doing with my hair!!

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Now I missed the live moment when she did “Drunk in Love” at the Grammy’s. Drat! I had reminded myself that the Grammy’s were gonna be on. I mean come on I live in LA.  But it wasn’t until the more than usual congestion on the roads plus Bentley spotting number 5 that it hit me the Grammy’s are in town!!  Right that’s what’s plastered on every Billboard and constantly promoted on live radio. Cool got it. But just like a mom I was putting the kiddies to bed when they came on.   And well they wanted one more story.  Ok ok now please go to bed Beyonce is on!! “One more Pretty please Mama” …Aaahhh ok one more and then you MUST go to BED!!

BEYONCE IS ON!!

So yes I missed it live but not to worry. There is this marvel of a site called YouTube. This one billion and counting transformative…seriously did you record that…how did you record that?  Bevy of performance recordings by auteurs who will show you everything from how to train your cat to how to put on your socks.  It is truly a mesmerizing pice of wizardry.   I emplore you not to visit if you have work to do of any sort.   You can get lost down the rabbit hole of YouTube-dom quick as your 2 year old can pick a piece of gum off the sidewalk.

So I was not worried.  The video was uploaded within minutes of the performance.  Who’s to say it wasn’t even done simultaneously. I mean seriously I think she was just walking down the steps with her guy and then ping it’s on there for me to watch.   Again and again. .

I LOVED it…Oh the Hair, the Body the Outfit, her Guy the Two, the Love, the Steam ,the Chair… My eyes were having a viewing ice cream party! Whoohooo!! I Love Ice Cream!!

So imagine my surprise when next day and for many days after there was so much negative talk and Flak.

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Huh?

The chair the hips the costume the sexy the her. Then I heard lots of Mommy words. Like inappropriate and what mommy’s should do and should not do and Bad Examples and Responsibility and oh so much fuss. I was stunned. Ok fine not stunned but interested. Hmmm has anyone seen the Myley performance?  I mean I hadn’t until like right now.  True story.   I just stopped writing long enough to watch the performance.  WOW OK!   Now forgive me here cuz I’m about to get real.  She’s a teenager (ok young adult) and well she has many more years to grow ahead of her.  God Bless her growing up self.

For me I grew up in the era of Madonna, Prince, NWA, Gangster Rap, Michael Jackson, Metallica, Guns and Roses, Hole and Nirvana.

Maybe they ruined lots of lives with their performances.  Maybe so many kids thought there was a Black Jesus and you could dance around him in the church while crosses burned in the yard.  Maybe the Purple Master made you wear lots of Purple and pray for rain while wearing lipstick, bell bottoms and heels.

My mother let me watch some and forbid others.  She limited tv (really hardly any)  I watched in secret or at a friends.   She over shared.  My God her talks and all of the Sharing!  The body parts.   The things that could happen if you did things with those parts.   The way cauliflower looking things could grow on parts if you do things with people and their parts, when you shouldn’t.    Oh the pictures the pictures forever melted like cheese on a outdoor grill on my brain.  She shared about how boys would behave and how I should behave ( I did lots of grinding in the dark hallways of school).   Ok they weren’t really dark we just closed our eyes.  I dressed appropriately to church and school ( fine I changed on the bus).  I was expected to do well in school and punishment was assured if I did not.  She was interested in my friends and their parents ( she needed to meet EVERYONE).  We constantly moved (so there were always a bevy of new people to meet.)  I moved from town to town.  I lived in the projects the country the city.  I saw drugs I saw violence I saw gangs I saw bad things.  Bad things happened to me.  I didn’t always do what was right…I grew up!

I don’t in any corner of my brain think that Mrs Carter should raise my kids.  Alas she has her own Blue piece of sky and I have mine. With all of my admiration I am not also under the impression that she is perfect.  Lord knows I am not.  I’m sure that her artist self and her “responsible people are watching self” must have long talks.  Lord knows I do.   I don’t think my mom thought Madonna should do the honors for her nor that Prince should be my pops.  Though I didn’t know mine and hey he might have been fun.  I like purple but maybe not that much.

Any country girl raised on a Farm can tell ya.  No matter how far away from “town” you are  there is still always some rolling in the hay.  And of course there are those damn bunnies procreating along with the sheep and the cows and the horses. Doggone it!! Why can’t we make it all just stop.

We are all doing our best to raise our kids.  We want them to be happy and healthy.  We want them to know right from wrong and be good and kind.  We want them to thrive and strive and think for themselves.  We want them to not hurt themselves or others.  We want them to be their best self.  Not like Katie or Stacy or Lucy or Tim or Kevin or Tommy…or Prince or Beyonce.  No just be good at being you.   We want them to stand up for what’s right and recycle.

untitled shoot-214

The only thing I know to do so far is to

Shield and then Reveal.

Talk and then let them Do.

Watch then allow them to Grow.

At this house you get schedules, time outs, rewards, punishment and unconditional love.  You get boundaries and curfews and you See… Unconditional Love.  You get parental blocks and lots and lots of Vegetables, organic fruit, re-useable bags  and Unconditional Love.  You will get tools and skills and lots of Talks Lawd a Mercy so much talking.

And in the end like every mother must I will throw it all up to the sky and pray…very very Hard.

That

The Chair or the Foam Finger

Won’t do me in

Kisses

 

“Where is the Love…and does the Sandbox Have a Bottom?”

So I’m out with my son on a Date. Yep just me and him and it’s Awesome. It’s slower it’s silly, it’s funny, it’s races, it’s secrets it’s us…

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And he has so much to tell me and ask me and just things to chat about.  There is no sister or Daddy to interrupt and just time to express himself and be understood.  And that part feels so unhurried and so present and I feel my ears prick up a little more to really hear just what he has to say…today…to me.Super hero Kairo

First question  ” Is the tar for real”?  We are at The LaBrea Tar pits on our way to the museum and we are looking at this oily, slicky, sticky, stinky…pond.  Yes it’s real.  I ask him to use his “spidey” senses to smell the stinky tar and I go on to sound kinda scientific mommy style to explain the “realness of tar”.   How it’s used for buildings and for roads and I point here and there being quit animated I might add.  He totally goes along and I feel so good about my mommy knowledge.  I always breathe a sigh of relief when I actually “know” something…I am failing at my daughters math right now…no show off points for me there.IMG_7517

We walk along the road and he starts to tell me about his best friend and how he’s missing him and it’s making him kinda blue.  It kinda breaks my heart a bit to hear who it “still” is. They no longer go to the same school and the mom has been un cooperative with playdates.  Therefore they haven’t seen one another for months.  Ugh.  Should I reach out to her again?  Sigh …she will probably put me off again.  It doesn’t make sense I mean the Mom and I seemed to really get on.  Oh well.   Adults…go figure.

Looking down at his little earnest face I wish he had a phone and a car…just briefly in this moment.  Then they wouldn’t need grownups to facilitate.  I try to steer his thoughts to friends that are accessible and near by.  He nimbly gives me reasons as to why they don’t own the top spot.  I point out a particular kid who I know my son gets on with.  Well and he hesitates.  What?  ”He’s sometimes nice.” Huh?  ”Well sometimes he wants me to play and then sometimes he doesn’t even speak”.   “He says we are friends…but  I don’t always see his being friends.”  Wow!  I love how he put that.  It reminds me of the song “Where is the Love”  I reassure him that I understand.  Yep you should always “see” his being friends.”  People are not perfect but you should always see them being your friend in the end.  I go on to rattle off a couple other kids.   One is too whiny …one too unforgiving…one too rough and well this special friend just gets him and he’s just right!

Aaahhh In that moment I feel weepy and strangely sad.   The “life clouds” that had been covering my sun lately come  back to obstruct my view once more.  I hate those times in life when you aren’t just Happy!  You know the easy going hard to get me down kinda Happy.  Of course there are good things happening too but the weather report remains cloudy with a chance of rain.  And you are two ill placed comments  away from crying.  Ick.

I don’t try to talk him out of his feelings they are his.  I stroke his face.  It’s ok to feel like this.pulling down the sky

We sit on a bench and the sun touches our faces…Yum!

“Is there a bottom to the Sand pit”  Yes yes there is.  You can’t see it but the sand pit does not touch the core of the earth. :-)  The joke is surprisingly not over his head.  He gets it just a little slower.  Hehee “wouldn’t it be funny mommy if me and Naya dug a sand pit to the center of the earth while you weren’t looking”.  ”You called for us to get ready to go and we weren’t there.”  Hmmm Mommy perspective not funny at AT ALL kid perspective…adventurous and hilarious.  I give him both scenarios and we share a laugh.

He puts his hand in mine and he smiles up at me.  ”You are the best Mommy Ever”  I am so happy with you being my Mommy” You are my friend and my Mommy”

Melting melting…

But the revelry is short lived. “Let’s Race” He is quicker to his feet then me.  But no matter I am still on his heels…racing along the path legs flying.  ”Letting him win ” is becoming more real then a fake out.  Ha I pull ahead but my footwear makes me pause…. he wins victory dance included.  I dance also…this kind of losing deserves it’s own reward.

And just like that the storm clouds lift.  I feel lighter than I have in months.

I am in love.

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I am in love with this moment and this kid and my life.  I am in love with my breath and my legs and the sun on my face.  I am in love with my daughter and her hugs and her yummy smile.  I am in Love with that man and his chest and his strength and his passion.  I am in love with my house and it’s flowers and it’s smells and it’s pictures.  And as the Love fills me like a balloon I feel myself E X P A N D and I  burst and this Love spills out all over everything..

And suddenly I am ever so surprisingly in Love with the missing pieces the jagged edges the not so great fits.  I’m even in Love with the bills and the debt and the career lull.  I’m in love with the miss understandings and the can’t quit get it rights.  I’m in love with the day to day and the humdrum and the dinner time… In this moment I am more of Me than ever…

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I understand that the triumph of living this life is Loving the journey

Before the…

bills are paid

understanding is reached

friendships last

Debt is Gone

Career is on MAX

I understand how not quit getting what you want when you want it creates new spaces in us.  It makes us push harder try new things… you know be innovative.  It makes us write our own stories when you can’t find the right book.  Create a TV show when you feel underrepresented.  It makes you start a club or a movement or a School or a Site.  It makes us get up and move.  Move to a new Job or Country or Home.  It makes us move forward in this journey.  And if you let it Life will make you better not bitter.  You will find that you are more clear more open more You.

You will find that the debt doesn’t drown you and the Success doesn’t soil you.

You will know that there is a bottom to the sand pit.

That the Debt will eventually be gone.

And that this Moment the one you are having right now is…

all that there is!

Enjoy

Kisses

(26 of 73)

Love In the World of Ex…

(19 of 73)It’s a frosty night and I am cold. I pull the folds of my jacket around tighter and the hood of my hoodie more snug around my ears. Aaahhh why didn’t I remember to put on gloves. My fingers are going numb so I warm them with my breath and then jam them into my pockets. All of sudden I hear laughter and voices coming my way. I duck down and hold my breath.  It is only then that the realization of where I am washes over me and I shiver again this time not because of the cold.  You see I’m sitting on top of a baseball dugout on a baseball field…not playing baseball… in the middle of the night.   Hmmm Interesting.  Now to do this I had to hop a small fence and shimmy and hoist myself ( not without effort) over onto the low slung roof and into the  position I am now Freezing in!

The voices move  past me and I feel safe enough to rise up and then I see it. The flicker of a light that has gone on in the room across the way.  I am here on top of the dugout because it is directly across from the room of my Hunky, Cocky, Sexy,  Obsession.  And I am Crazy Stupid in Lust /Love!    Aaaahhh my head pounds and my insides do flip flops.    I flinch as he moves past the window again taking off his shirt.  How could I get so lucky more please!!  And then I see her.  HER!! The girl he “proclaims” to care nothing about.   The girl who is “too skinny and un attractive to look at twice”  Her!   She’s in there with him.  My breath catches in my throat and I am no longer cold.  I am blood boiling angry!  And it’s not at him it’s at myself.  After 8 months of the hushed late night , shhhhh only in private never in public, seat creaming maybe he will call or nod his head at my existence torture.  I am Angry and I am done!!  Oh Thank Merciful Father God in Heaven!  I am DONE.  I’ve tried to be done before.  But tonight as I sit shivering in the cold as she lays warm in his arms.  I feel like the idiot stalker that I am.  And somehow I am snapped out of my stalker revelry!!  I know for sure if he really liked me he would like me in the Light around his Friends in the Halls in his room.  He would be “ready” for a girlfriend.  He would call when he said and we would laugh and talk and make out.  I know at that moment “He’s just not that into me”.   And I painfully, tragically, moaning-ly… move on…tree of life

Ugh

I am standing staring at 2 dozen of the loveliest roses you can imagine.  They are candle apple red  long stemmed and they have just arrived.  My new roommate comes up from behind and whistles her approval ( I wish I could whistle like her all low and sexy).  I feel something on my face and I reach up to brush it away only to find that it is my tears falling skip hop down my cheeks .  It’s done it’s over.  The marriage.  Where there was hope there is now only empty sadness.  This does not come as a blow it’s been awhile coming.   I mean I have already moved out.  Instead it is like a brisk gust of wind, strong enough to make your eyes water not enough to make you wear a coat.  I lay the card that I’m sure tells me how much he loves me on the table and I walk away.  In my minds eye I see his puppy dog eyes as he watches me not knowing what to do or what to say.  I see him on the couch drinking beer and watching Aliens for the 200th time (literally).  I see him lifelessly waiting tables ( a job I got him) as he pockets cards from Executives offering him jobs.  ”I’m not really what they are looking for”  Well how do you know?  ”I just do”.  Well why would they give you their card?”  a shake of the head on his way to another beer.  I see the counseling sessions that I drag him to and the countless talks “What do you need?  What can I do” as I hustle to job number 3 and back from rehearsals on my way to an audition.  I buy myself tulips on my way home from acting class they were only $4.99 they are my favorites.  I hate roses.  I wipe the tears as I pack my bags.   I know for sure –  We can only change ourselves no one else.   You can help all you want but in the end everyone has to decide to help themselves.  You can stay and suffocate or Love yourself enough to leave.  No one has to be wrong but the relationship has to feel Right!

Love done just right

Gasp

I am arguing at a pay phone.  My head is pounding and I really can’t remember what this particular argument is about.  It’s a way of life for us now.  He laughs and says we are Italian it’s fine. ( We aren’t Italians and they can’t be this miserable)  What I do know is that I always end up confused and apologizing.  Somehow it’s my fault.  Oh right I remember… he didn’t show up to get me the other day.    I waited and waited and I  could have hung out with my girls who I haven’t seen for ages.  In the back of my mind  I think he did it on purpose.   He doesn’t like my girls cuz they questions how he’s treating me.  ”That’s so petty” ( well if the shoe fits)  ” I would never do that”  I just forgot is all ( We had tickets and I was calling).  Fine!! “Just come pick me up already” I say as I slam the phone down.   It has started to rain and fearing for my hair I rush back to the house and past my roommate who is Still on the phone.  Such a phone hog.  I rush upstairs and finish putting on my clothes.  I shimmy into a new dress all my dresses are new these days.  And brush my hair the way he likes it.  My mind is a blank as I put on my mascara I have willed it so.  Silence is the best policy in times like these.  I’ll be fine I just need to go out!  He pulls his shiny Lexus up to the club and immediately we are whisked past the velvet rope and into the VIP section.  I smirk as I feel the wanting eyes following me as I move.  Uh huh VIP ALL THE WAY BABY!! The dull ache of my headache  still lingers.  I close my eyes waiting for the “FEELING” to pour over me. Damn!   I must ” NEED a Drink”!  I yell this to him over the music.  He pauses, and in the pause I remember.  Sh#^%T he needs money!  Annoyed I reach into my purse and hand him 2, $20′s that should cover a drink and gas to get us home later. I mean he did get us in.  We’re even right?  We are moving to the beat but somehow his sexy body and  the pulsating music do nothing for me.  He leans in to whisper something in my ear…is his breath stinky?  Yep.  I turn and walk off of the dance floor and then  keep walking until I hit the door (where I nod at his friend Todd)  and then I keep walking until I see a Taxi.  I can hear him behind me trying to catch up and calling my name.  I turn and blow him a kiss…”You’re Right I’m Wrong”   I say.  But I’m done.  I want peace and harmony.  No flakes and facades.   THINGS won’t make me happy.  Being with someone should make me feel better in my skin not worse.  Trust your instincts. Keep your friends.

roses as a heart

Sigh

I am coughing and my throat is raw from my effort.  My eyes are bloodshot and my hair lays in a disheveled heap on my head.  I look up to a steaming cup of something and I manage a weak smile as it is handed to me.  ”It’s beyond nasty but it will kill whatever this is” he says.    The eyes are questioning though gentle the tone is reassuring.  I nod my head taking the cup in hand and steady myself for the onslaught.  And true to his word it is amazing in it’s awfulness.  It lingers where it shouldn’t and I am perfumed with it’s insistent scent.  YUCK!  But days later I do indeed feel better.  He is relieved…I am pitiful in my gratefulness.  Death by unknown bubonic in my twenties…please I need to speak to the writer.   I had been in this state for more than a month and he’s only known me for 6 months.  It’s nothing like starting to date a girl with the plague.  I am restless, he is steady.  I am bacon he is vegetarian.  I am rock he is jazz.  I am free form he has schedules.  He is hesitant I am sure of hand.  He is resistant I am dazzling.  I give space he comes closer.  Always always…he is kind, he is truthful, he is interested, he is straightforward.  We Blossom.  We are laughter, we are sexy, we are grace, we are silly, we are committed, we are visionary, we are freedom, we are 17 years…untitled shoot-274LOve

Exhale…

WE ARE

Love

Kisses

It’s 2014 & You are Wanted On the DANCE Floor!!

It’s 8;45pm on a Saturday night and my daughter is crying.  Like she started off pouting and now she is producing real tears.  Ugh!  Her brother looks on and decides he has some tears of his own.  I gaze at them both.  Sigh.  Then I take a moment to reassure and rub their backs for a few seconds while reminding them it is only one night a week.  Lordy!   You see tonight is “Date Night”.  My girl has decided not to relent so  moving out of her grasp I reach for my necklace and give myself a last once over in the mirror.  Yep I’m looking good!!   “Why do you Have to go out”  they sob with tear streaked cheeks.  ”Why can’t you stay home  and cuddle”  they lament.  I give them a last side eye as I step over the puddle that is them on the floor and head to the door.  My heels make a click click click on the wood floors.   They jump up seeing that their cries are getting them no where and they don’t want a goodbye with out a kiss and a hug.  Good!   I hug them tight and kiss their heads.  ” I love you”!  ”Be sweet and mind your manners.”  They calm down and give big hugs.  I am relieved.  Giving one last set of instructions to the babysitter I give the “come on eye”  to the Hubby and with that we step out into the night not looking back. IMG_1032

Whew we made it.

Luckily it’s not always like this.

I smile into the night.  The air is crisp and the moon is full.  All thoughts of the scene prior to this moment floats into the air like vapor.  I have officially “clocked out”.   My Man (i.e. Hubby) takes my hand as we sit in the car with the music turned up way past kid level and the “Explicit” lyrics pour over my  grown up ears.  I wince.   Ooohhh is that what they are really saying!  Yikes.   I exhale and drink in this feeling of being “Me” on a Date.    Like Cinderella at the ball my heels are high and my hair is swinging I’m a Sexy Lady  tonight not someones mama or caretaker or a cleaner upper, or a homework helper and yes… it feels yummy.  IMG_1504

Now I know this sounds like a #BadMommyMoment but I beg to differ.  Just 2 hours prior I was watching my baby girl in a totally different kind of production.  This one of the School Play variety.  It was Wizard of Oz and oh how I love musical theatre.  I laughed I clapped I videotaped.   I brought flowers and I was oh so Proud!!IMG_1675

And just 4 hours prior to that… we were all still in bed clothes.  Piled high on our bed we were having a tickle showdown.  Followed by a slipping sliding chase through the house  monster voices included…!!!  Then falling into a laughing heap sunlight on our faces trying to catch our breathe ….aaahhh full on Mommy Goodness!!IMG_1598

Sooooo by the time this crying cling to my leg production was going on stage I had nothing for it…. Nope not a thing.  Other than a “Uhh No You Didn’t”!!!!

The life of a Mommy is such a fun gooey mess of events. It’s  filled with joy, laughter home made gifts, tears, fits and yes lots of compromise.   What we are supposed to accomplish on little sleep, no food you don’t have to share, no time to call our own, and absolutely no time to sit still is a Feat worth a Hero Award!!  SuperMommy at your service!IMG_1783

Like most Moms thoughts of being ” the best mommy ever” fill my waking moments.  Am I doing it right?  Are they getting enough, love and time?   Am I feeding them right, disciplining them enough, paying attention Enough!!  Whew it’s a whirlwind!IMG_6388

But I had decided early on that I was not going to  be a “Mommy Martyr” and become a shell of my former self.  I was gonna read books listen to advice follow my instincts do my best and call it a day!!  I signed on to Motherhood having a clear idea of what it took.   Ok as clear as you can be with out having a kid of your own.  I knew it was long hours and little pay.  And yep the reality…was All that plus a side of Chips!!  Motherhood is truly is not for the faint of heart.   But like any CEO of a high powered Company…It’s tough but I wouldn’t trade it for anything!  In fact  LOVE it!

But I am also clear about boundaries and balance.  Why can’t motherhood be fun and also work for everyone.  Hey not to mention I have a Hubby.  He needs attention too right!!!!  I mean if the marriage is gonna survive and we are going to continue to like/love each other.IMG_1204

To that end…

IMG_1760I am a firm believer in bed times, adult vacations, mommy staycations (know your local hotels) and a Standing Saturday night date night!!  I am appalled at the number of mommy’s who haven’t had a date night in God knows how many months, who haven’t seen the inside of a club since the 90′s and who have no clue what is the latest movie out.. before it gets to Netflix.  Or unless of course it’s a Kid flick.  In that case they had tickets the moment they went on sale.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Ok fine I hear the grumbling …Geesh I relent on the club!! But Movies and a Nice dinner out once in a while STICKS!! Come on who doesn’t need a little bit of candlelight a couple of times in the year !!orig

We Moms GIVE So Much…so this year I dare you …in fact I triple Dog Dare you to get out and live a little.  You know have some fun!! Stick in a Girls night dare I say every 3 months (Gasp!)   And a Date night twice… ok ONCE a Month (Sharp intake of Breathe).

Oh and for my daring-est triple toe loop Crazy loony Mama Dare….

I dare you to think about Yourself FIRST Once a Month….Aaaaahhhh I see you turning red in the face don’t pass out stay with me!!!!

Once a Month (You pick the Day)  and on that Day it’s ALL about YOU!  What you want to eat, where you wanna go, who you wanna go with (if anyone) , how you wanna feel, what you wanna smell, what you wanna see,

IMG_1924…how you wanna just BE !

So that you get to know YOU a little bit more in 2014.

So that you get to Enjoy your journey.

There is one life…one time around this Ferris Wheel!

it’s

2014

and You

Are Wanted

On

The Dance Floor!IMG_1766

Kisses

Taking a Moment to Mourn….

I didn’t want to write anything about The Man.   The Man and his Greatness.  Because well I figured all the great writers are writing about him right now.  And I am not a great writer.   And well what do I have to say about him that has not been said.

But after I mentioned this to the hubby he said “so what” you still have the right to mourn him to express your own personal feelings about the man.

…This Amazing Man the One and Only Nelson Mandela.

And as I sat and watched the tributes roll in.  Watched the pictures being posted and his words being shared again and again I felt it.  That thing that is the undeniable fact that we have lived in a time that framed the life of Nelson Mandela.  A fierce crusader for Justice and Equality.  A person who with dignity forged himself into a diamond a pearl through his hardship.  This man this champion this leader….has Passed… and the tears fall unchecked .

I have to say that my attachment to Mandela was a very selfish one and very small by my own estimation.  To me he represents Endurance and Patience and Despite the Odds Triumph.

I have found that my path has not been one that has been straight and easy to navigate.  The twists and turns have been many.  The pain has been real and the ability to cope has been needed.  I found that because of this I gravitated towards those that have endured.   I gained strength through them.  Those that have not just survived but thrived admits the turmoil and chaos. Those were my beacons of light.

When I looked on his countenance I saw the years but not the scars.  I saw the wisdom and the knowledge and the determination and the clarity.  But I did not see hate and resentment and exhaustation in well-doing.  How did he do this?

I am 10 yrs old and it is pitch black and I am lying very still in bed but I am awake.  The smell is keeping me awake that along with the scratchy ness of the thin blanket and the fact that I am cold.  All of these things plus the narrowness of the bed are not allowing sleep to come.  I feel the breath of my sister who is lying beside me.  Her slowed breathing is the only warmth I feel and it’s steady cadence calms me.  As I train my ear to  listen I can single out six different breathing patterns.  You see my whole family is in this room.  We are in a shelter or rather a Half-Way house.  Half way to where?  The streets I suppose and we are happy to have a place to stay….

How did he do that?  How did he not come out of  prison after 27 years not broken and battered angry and rage full .  How?  Those that knew him said that prison was a crucible and that Mandela bent the place and the people to his content of character.  Aaahhh his character.  The cell was tiny I have seen pictures and it housed a bed a table a chair and a pail.  In the first 10 years he was allowed one visitor a year for 30 min and one letter every 6 months.

“Difficulties break some men then make others, no axe is sharp enough to cut the soul of a sinner who keeps on trying, one armed with the hope that he will rise even in the end”   Nelson Mandela

My deepest desire in my life is to live fully.  Mandela lived fully.  To do this one must keep ones spirit intact.   Though your spirit might be battered and bruised.  It is like the heart is for the body.  You must have it intact in order to live.  Our spirit is the very  life blood to our existence and it must not be broken.  And so I protect mine with my very breath.

I am 8 yrs old… or so and I am lying in bed telling stories to my siblings.   I say my age loosely for it really doesn’t matter.  During my child hood I learned to forget so often and so well that recalling things now creates an ever shifting sheet of ice.  Just when I lock ahold of something it breaks off and drifts away.  Instead I remember through my senses and senses bely age.  I am in bed telling stories to drown out the sound of arguing coming from the other room.  I am animated and have voices for each character.  They laugh and we talk and  one by one they fall off to sleep.  I lie awake listening.   What is the matter?  The usual. Lack of money, too many mouths to feed…not enough work… general annoyance and dismay about life.  I hear a slap and then low crying.

I saw in this man the ability to endure.  We live in a “right now”  ”easily hurt” society.  Every challenge or discomfort is looked on as an evil .  Comfort is sought at every turn even to the discomfort of others.   “Life is hard” is spoken after a bad day at the office.  People are in therapy for having been love to hard.”  I read somewhere “You Day was Bad…not your Life”.  How true.  I sober up.

Mandela went to prison at 45 yrs old.  The prime of life.  He was released at 72yrs old.

HOW did he Endure?  How did he thrive?   HOW!!  I am sure he had his bad days and months…hell I’m sure he had years of despair of doubt of fear of …no way outness.  But yet he resolved to not be broken.

I am 18yrs old sitting in a car that my mother is driving she is talking and talking I am catching every other word.  ”Don’t come home” , “Don’t call”.  I am staring down at the brace on my knee shifting it slightly to relive the dull throb…  or is it in my head.  ”You have to figure your own way, I’m done”.  We pull off  to the side of the road where I see my friends waiting in their new red Civic to take me back to school.  She is talking I am thinking… 3 months I have 3 months.   She sits down my bags as  I scan their bright faces.   Watching a different mother great them warmly … I wonder who can take me in for the summer…and what to do about my leg…Hmmmm.

“Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemy”  Nelson Mandela

This Man this remarkable man.  Was released from prison while I was in college.  He came out waving and Smiling.  I remember his smile in all the news feeds.  Not just a happy to be out of prison smile but a brilliant alchemy smile.  He smiled like he had been made into Gold and he was about to Shine…!!!!

Oh and Shine he did!  Watching him become the President of the Country that Imprisoned him was a day like no other.  The people singing in the streets the banners waving the feeling of triumph and joy was palatable!!  Though it was February It felt like spring and smelled like rainbows

“It always seems impossible until it is done”.  Nelson Mandela

I am in the bed in the hospital it is bright and cheerful and full of flowers and balloons.  Oh how I love flowers.  I train my eyes on one of the blooms then look out of the window that is streaming with light.  I am feeling excited, nervous and anxious.   My life as I’ve known it has shifted permanently  I have had a child.  I shiver and pull the covers tight around me.  The door opens and in walks my husband  beaming followed by the nurse wheeling in our child.  They announce she is perfect and lay her in my arms.  She is so sweet and small and brown.  she smells like morning and I stroke her little cheek and something in me relaxes.  I realize I have been holding my breath and I laugh as I exhale and tears stream down my face.  She is here, she is healthy I have done it.  Fear fights for a place to be.   What if I’m a bad mom?  What if she doesn’t like me or I her.  What if we don’t bond.  She yawns and fidgets.  I caress her small head and she opens her eyes.  We lock eyes briefly on one another.  She blinks yawns and closes her eyes once more.  As if to say…”Hey… there you are …cool catch you in a bit”  She was not worried at all.   I am aloft on the waves of love.   If I were a mere mortal before that day I got my cape at that moment.   I felt  fierce and determined and healed as I looked into her tiny face.   The day I married I knew true love was possible the day my baby was born I knew I had come into my own.  I felt capable and fully present.  I knew I had the ability to fly.

I looked up to see my  husband smiling down on me …What?

“Nothing you’re just shining bright…like a diamond”

This Man lived and more than fulfilled his purpose in life.  He lived a life to be honored and emulated.  He showed us what the human spirit was capable of and then charged us to do the same.  He did not belittle anyones story or struggle but understood in all of us is the capacity to overcome and Love despite the challenges.  My heart is forever changed because he lived.

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear but of the triumph over it.  The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid.  But he who conquers that Fear”   Nelson Mandela

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Rest in Peace Great Man.

We Love You

Kisses

 

 

The truth about my Ass-ets

I have a girlfriend who every time she see’s me she has to compliment my butt.  She really just can’t help it.  We hug, kiss, tell each other how good it is to see one another and at some point when I turn around she gets a view of my butt and she let’s me know.  ”Girrllll you have the best butt EVER”!  Now I know she is genuinely happy to see it.   All round and  I hope perky:-)  I understand she doesn’t possess such pronounced bounty and well when she see’s mine it must make her smile.  And In her mind I guess It deserves a compliment… every time.

But I have to admit.  In the beginning of our friendship this “booty report” would totally throw me off.  ”What was she really trying to  say!”  Was I getting fat?  I spent more time then usual sideways in the mirror trying to do before and after booty comparisons.   Was I bigger then the last time I saw her?  Yada Yada.  I would go so far as to try on “The Pants”!    You know the ones you keep in your closet but don’t wear.   The ones you rocked before kids.  You try them on every now and then (for me weekly). To see if they still fit.  Hey I use that instead of a scale.  Getting into them in general is not an option.  But are they tighter then last week or looser?   Inquiring minds wanna know!!  Each encounter with my friend would throw me  into the same funky head space.  But not for long!!  Luckily by the time I had met her I had grown.  Not sideways but upward…I was Wiser.

Whew!

See she met me after the turbulent years.   Because now me and my body are not only on good speaking terms.  We have  become friends.  It isn’t that we always see eye to eye .  Lord knows we have our spats.  But we enjoy each others company.   Laugh at the same jokes and agreed on the basics.  We are in this together!!029TMiro-Sailing

Now this wasn’t  always so.  There was a time that my ample bottom along with the rest of me did not make me happy at all.  I call those years (12 yrs old until 8 years ago)… The Dark Ages”  Back in the day my bottom along with my sturdy thighs among other things were parts to be hid, draped and covered at all times.   I developed this hour glass shape pretty early on.  And we all know how adolescent boys can be…”Loud and Descriptive” about what they see.  And even though my “development “was complimented.  It made me feel self conscious.  And of course true to “Crazy form”  you want that which you don’t have.  I, like every other girl in the Universe /Stratosphere wanted to be Skinny!! Or at least that’s what it feels like, one body type (give or take boobs and a tiny butt)  for 500 million women.  That’s INSANE!! (not to be confused with “Insanity” a very popular workout video.)

My relationship with my body closely resembled that of a dissappoving parent who’s kid was lucky enough to get a smirk or a grunt of approval on any given day.  ”Now you know good and well that in “this family” all we have are Skinny Thighs …uh I mean  ”Straight A students” young lady.”    So what do you call This!!!   Hmmm blink blink…looks a little too wide to lumpy to bumpy to, short to tall toooooo something that wasn’t meeting with “moms” strict standards.

Only sometimes on rare occasions when the outfit was perfect perfect and I had eaten just the right meal for a flat stomach.   And the clothes hit at just the right angle and the light bounced off the right side of the planet as the sun and moon eclipsed and the birds sang in operatic unison…was I Happy with what I saw in the mirror.  Good Lord…who wants to live with this kind of disapproval all the freakin time.  It was enough to make a person wanna run away!!  And stay gone!  But since the person I wanted to run away from was me.  We settled on a “if you don’t start nothin’ neither will I” kinda  relationship. We stayed away from religion, politics and short shorts hoping that would keep us out of trouble.

Sooo…

It wasn’t until after the Freshman 15 lbs, after it was lost,  after College, after studying abroad, after living in NY & London, after my first real heart break, after my first 10 jobs after my  first years of marriage and after my first BABY!!!  That I finally really started having another kind of relationship with my body.  That I stopped being the DOM needing my body to be the Submissive… That I started a new conversation with my body.  A conversation that involved listening and talking.  Where nurturing and loving and kindness came into my “body vocabulary”  Where allowing my body to be be itself came into my way of being.

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I remembered desiring with all of my might to be pregnant.  I so prayed my body would cooperate.  I remembered with elation waving around the stick that showed two mighty stripes.  I remembered watching my body change with a new life growing deep inside.  All of the thoughtfulness and the savoring of food that not only kept me alive but grew another life as well.  Oh how I clucked over every choice.  Lovingly reading the packaging.  Checking to make sure that I was taking in enough of this or that so that the heart and lungs and brain would be perfect on this new being.  Aaaahhh food & exercise  became my wand and I it’s sorcerer.  We were not only friends we were allies and we were in perfect pitch harmony  ”Must birth healthy baby”!!!

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And we did it!!!  We accomplished said task!!  My beautiful daughter was born.  After the process I looked at my body with it’s new curves and new bumps and lumps and thought…hmmm where to now?

Instead of going into complete panic mode.  I read every accounting of how to get my body back.  I had exercised throughout (doing yoga until the very day I birthed her).  I had slathered myself with cream from head to toe.  Get close to me during pregnancy and you are liable to slip slide away.  I decided this was our new project and I dived right in.  I did everything reccomended including binding my stomach, drinking the teas and starting slowly.  I was invigorated  with the process (yes with some anxiety) I was experiencing sleepless nights and long days. I was breastfeeding and tied down to a new crazy schedule of what she wanted when she wanted it!  Ugh!!

I had the baby blues and I wondered  could I… would it …can we?  But now I wasn’t dealing with an enemy.  My body had somehow thru the process proved itself to me.  It proved it’s strength its capableness it’s amazing nurturing power.   I was now dealing with a friend.  And so we made a pact.   If I chose the right things to eat, & moved my body as often as I could.  If I would journal and talk to friends.  If I would write and keep my mind moving.  If I would seek help from my hubby and baby care.  Then my body would do it’s part.  It would pull itself back in and tighten up.  It would allow me to walk and then run.  It would glow and smooth out…it would calm into peace of mind.  It would take care of me if I took care of it!IMG_1479

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It grieves me to no end to hear us girls/women/mommies berating our bodies soooooo!  Argh!!  The mean words we say the unkind ways we treat our beings.  The yucky things we feed our bodies and the lack of movement that our bodies must endure and then to be so un-lovingly thought of.  It’s a wonder they don’t break down and cry daily.  And weep for all the things they do that go completely unnoticed.  Like the heart beating and the lungs expanding and the brain functioning and the cuts…healed and the babies born.  All done with out a thank you in sight…

It’s a wonder they just Wail…and then quit.

And sometimes that’s exactly what happens.  They get so tired of being mistreated.  That they just can’t take it anymore and let you know it.  Too much anxiety…hair falling out.  Too much processed food…weight gain.  Too much high stress….heart attack.  Not enough movement and fresh air…Break down.

Would you want to do “better” for a task master such as this?

It is only thru kind words and action that our bodies will respond in kind.  And like any relationship worth saving the change must start with you.

Loving yourself just the way you are.  Body scrub and massages for your body as is.  New makeup and hair for yourself NOW.  New clothes uh huh right NOW.  I know you are gonna lose those 20 lbs but your body and soul craves to look good TODAY.   We have to love and reward ourselves and bodies for what they have ALREADY accomplished!!   We are already behind in the accolades for services already rendered and it is Time to PAY UP and Pay it Forward!!

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Recently the hubby posted a great quote about Big Butts & those who love big butts…”Trust anyone who loves Big Butts for they cannot lie”.

I laughed so hard because…

Truth be told I Finally know what my Ass-ets are!!

And I cannot Lie…

Kisses

 

Adult Friendships Suck!!

And by that I mean I HATE them!

Yep I used the “H” word and I mean it to the 10th degree!!

Argh… Ugh…Sigh.

Having a friendship with an adult is like hanging out with a teenager all day and night. You’re having sooooo much fun sharing, caring and wearing matching bracelets and then BAM someone says something stupid in the hall ( doesn’t even have to be you) but it triggers a series of unfortunate events.  Miss understood texts, talking in the locker room and well somehow you get dumped, blamed and well you NEVER know what happened. Remember those days? But fortunately as a  teenager …your mom or a teacher or another friend gets wind of the Shakespearean comedy of errors and sits you down and sets the record straight while  you all listen to Taylor Swift.  Then you all cry and fish the bracelets out of the garbage and say what a dofus you’ve been. And the sun shines and the birds sing and well…you’ve seen the movie!!

But we are not Teenagers nope.   In the Adult world it all looks mighty different.  In the adult world.  You don’t get the promotion, the locks change, the email’s stop, the book club goes on without you.  Oh and you are not invited to their kids next birthday party…which by the way is happening at the Kids play space that you regularly take your kids toooooo….AKWARD!

And do you know WHY all of this is happening???? Huh?????

NO….Noooooo You Don’t!!!

Ok Ok maybe after you hit your head on the concrete a number of times you might have a vague shadowy recollect of something that should have been nothing…but hmmmm could that be it?   Nahhhh…yeahhhh????

AND do you know WHY you don’t know for sure ? Drumroll please…..

Because no one wants to TALK.  The absolute gripping fear of confrontation ( talking things out) Kills 95% of Adult Friendship.

Yep it’s that simple…. no one wants to talk about the shit and the ugh and the hurt and the pain and the stuff. No one wants to confront the uncomfortable-ness that comes with being a person and living a life.  No one wants to make a mistake or be seen as someone who has flaws.  In order to keep Adult friendships alive ( I have studied the mating rituals of this species) you need to either have an Alien mind meld ( You Absolutely agree with each other on all aspects of life here and beyond).   OR be equal parts “Easy going” muscle relaxant style “.  ”Blind (Mob Style) ”  oh and  Numb (that gash…oh please can’t even feel it).

But let’s just say you are one of “those ” people who wanna “talk”  wants to know.  You can’t just “go along with the rules”!

And if by some chance you corner the person to talk and yes I do mean corner them.  Just to “talk” and  you know “clear the air”.  Cuz things (birthday party…book club…girls night outs) are not what they used to be.  As in you are no longer invited.

They LIE!!

Yep they smile and lie.  ”Oh no nothings wrong…just been busy” You know kids, work, school, Bob, Mom…blah blah blah.  And there is no Taylor Swift song and there is no fishing the bracelet out of the garbage and well you end up feeling like why oh why did I even ASK. Ugh!

Or they lie and say nothing is wrong and start doing passive aggressive stuff like “forgetting to put your name on the list or mention that you were interested in being on that committee or the invitation must of got lost in the mail.   Really!!  And this happens so often you can’t decipher when the invitation Really is lost in the Mail.  Argh!

OR and this is my favorite…you have a come to Jesus talk they tell you everything.  You laugh you talk you cry.  And then they avoid you like the plague because now you know their secrets and well they can’t bear to see you and   (the secrets again).  Like… if I tell you… I’ll have to kill you GodFather Style.  Sigh!

You know when we were kids.  When we knew why sweet shy Sarah started skipping school and smoking in the bathroom with the older kids and sleeping with the football team.  We knew that her parents had gotten a divorce and the dad remarried and he doesn’t come around anymore.  We knew that her mother started to drink and that she cries at night.  We still talk to her on weekends when her Grandmother brings her to the same church you go to.  She admits she’s sad and being “stupid” with all those boys but she’s pissed at her dad.  We still see her as she really is.  We talk and laugh about happier times.  We are happy for her when her mother gets a new job and meets a nice guy.  And we couldn’t be prouder when she starts coming to school with a scrubbed face and pig tails again.

Remember those days.

But as an adult we don’t know what happened to each other prior to starting this new job…moving to this new town…joining the same mommy and me class.  Instead we get to “know” the person we see at the school bake sale and the kids soccer games.  We might have some play dates with the kids or go out to a Happy Hour.  And we might start to notice that they never mention the town they were in before.  Or that they can Never go out after the PTA meeting (something about the husband liking you home)  or they don’t talk about their first marriage or they drink a little too much.

And we all have a choice.

To get to “know” them better or just let this new info float along on the breeze….All easy going like…

And this choice becomes less conscious and more about survival the more hurt and confusion we suffer at the hands of  so called “friends”.  If enough Friend-grenades go off in your face.  Well you just don’t wanna “know” anymore.  We just wanna “get along” have a “nice” time and not “spoil” everything.    So we live a life of almost friendship.  It’s kinda toddler style.  We do things side by side but we don’t “Share”.  We don’t wanna risk (being pummeled in the head with a rattle).

We smile and bake and cry in private.  We suffer from misunderstanding and half told truths.  We share a laugh over our kids heads in line and we tell “all about our day” in the bleachers.  When it goes wrong when we hurt or get hurt…Well we just join another class or sign up for another committee or move.

Hmmmm

We are the walking wounded.  Hurting and being hurt.  Unconsciously and sometimes on purpose.  It’s all just horrifying.

I find this kinda life Sucky and crazy uncomfortable and yucky and icky.  Kinda like half living.  All of this NO INTIMACY Makes me wanna Holla!!   Yeah I’m besties with my hubby and my kiddies are “my life” but Seriously!!

I am Raging against the machine.  I have decided not to learn” this lesson.  I have decided that it is better to love and have loss then to not have loved at all.  It is better to know.   It is better to be KNOWN.  It is better to go in deep and live full and free.

Now don’t get me wrong I do all of this oh so carefully these days.  The years of friend – grenades going off have left their mark I must admit.  I have little or no patience for small talk and being with people that I feel no organic connection.  I am not interested in agreeing about the weather and being with the “cool” crowd…who even knows what that means anymore.

I want to “feel” something I want to be connected to like minded people.  I want to dance, travel, laugh and cry.  I want to talk about stuff that matters I wanna smell the roses.  I want to encourage and be encouraged.  I want the space to be honest and full and Me…tiara and all.

Because If the grenade goes off… I wanna have been reaching for soul intimacy.

Live Big or Go Home….

What

about

you…

kisses

Shadow