Monday, May 30, 2011

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Like A Ball Of Yarn Unraveling

That is what my brain has felt like the last couple days.
Recently I found myself with an unusual amount of free time that I used to join several communities i will probably visit twice. After a fit of hyperactivity that included joining sites, participating in prompts,  visiting new blogs and posting several posts in a row, I have hit a brick wall. I have so much in my head right now and I can't sort it out and put it into any kind of order. Not that I do anyway. But worse than usual. I haven't even commented much the last few days because I read and just can't find the way to form what I want to say. After a few times when I felt I was spewing utter nonsense I decided I'd be better off remaining mostly silent. Mostly.

I am working on a post about Localism (Yes, I know that is not a real word). In relation to myself. I am working on it and trying to edit it down a little becasuse it is kind of rambling and I get off the main point in it several times. I should do that right? Try to keep it to the point? Shouldn't I? Or would that change my voice?

I've read a lot about finding your own voice. I think I have done that. The thing is, I have more than one voice. My voice may depend on my mood or what I have to say. Which is the right one? That's just it. They all are.
Sometimes I'm in a silly mood and look at the humorous side of things. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I make a real effort to write something with some quality. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I get tired of looking at my last post and post whatever is in my head. What the hell am I doing here? Whatever I want. If I don't have anything pertinent to say I'll just post something random. Sometimes I try to be careful with grammar and form...sometimes I don't. You might find anything from a serious essay to some Really Bad Poetry, or a song I'm in the mood for. I find inspiration everywhere. I enjoy reading blogs by a large array of very different types of people.  I was prompted to do the Localism post by a comment from my friend Susan of Susan Fobes' Family Formula on this post. I also was thinking of writing a post inspired by a comment by Linda Medrano on this post. I was thinking of calling it "that time I smoked pot" it is a true and cautionary tale that will scare the crap out of your kids. Well maybe. I waited too long to tell it to my oldest and my other two seem to find it amusing. It is kind of amusing. In a terrifying kind of way. I'll think about that one. I like Linda. I discovered her recently or she found me...something like that.  She also is a regular with Erica at Free Fringes. Have you been by there? You should. She is not only excellent on her own, she also has a fun thing going on called Love Links where people link up smaller blogs and then we read and comment and vote on them. Go here at Free Fringes for the latest details on how it works. I also met this Blogger Kelly Garriott Waite, from Writing in the Margins Bursting at the Seams , at Love Links, the other day.

She passed me the Versatile Blogger Award. Wasn't that nice? She has been writing this blog since February and I enjoyed spending some time in her archives today. I think this is her first blog, I didn't see mention of another. You should go by and read. She is Very Good. I like it. If Blogger ever releases everyone's Followers from captivity I will be Following her.  Go! Visit!

Where was I? a sieve...anyway...

Advice on creating a professional blog will tell you find a focal point. A main reason for blogging. There are so many reasons people choose to blog  There are people with serious goals whether it be writing, starting a business, whatever. Expert Blogs. How To blogs. Funny Blogs. Serious Blogs, Reviewers, Mom Blogs, Journals. I have always said I do not have a real purpose. I am not a writer but I like to write. I write about my teenagers but I don't tell you the latest theories on how to deal with them. I don't actually read the theories on how to deal with them anymore. I don't do reviews, I don't give tips, I don't use social media, I don't try to 'sell' my blog. I hear the word 'Brand' used a lot. I guess I am a Mom Blog. But, that's not all I am. I am a journal blog and a..well, that's just it..

Spin spin spin. That's my head. I can't really focus on anything in particular and have spent the day doing things like wandering off in the middle of folding towels to eat a brownie. Still. Last night when I was too tired to write, too tired to read, too tired to watch tv but bored nonetheless,  I decided to get out my World Famous Microsoft Paint Box and amuse myself. I had just gotten used to the old one when  I received a new computer and now it's fancier and I had to figure it out all over again.

I thought, I know what I need! I need my own community! I need to create my own space for my blog to fit. Something that defines what I do because I am multi faceted. I am Multi Purpose, or No Purpose, I am scattered, I am Free From Form.

 I am...I am...

And I know I'm not the only one. Grab a button if you would like to be a part of my community. You do not have to do anything or be anything to be a part of this group. Even if your blog has a purpose you can be a member. Because it's random. We don't even have a place to meet. We are Free to scamper about the internet wreaking havoc on Form and Function!

I am also up way past my bedtime right now and am too tired to proof read this anymore so I'm sure it will do.

  If enough random people volunteer I will make us a Random Page of Links. Otherwise,  I won't. I'll just wander off in the middle of typing and have a brownie.

OOPS! An Oversight!

For The Mombshell

This post has been Ninja Love Linked at Free Fringes

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Sometimes I Wonder, Where Did We Go?

Bit by bit nature encroaches upon our dwelling. The same way time seems to encroach on our family's lives and change us. In the spring we look about and decide it's time to clear back a little. Create some space before we become swallowed up.  Over the years pieces of our individuality fall away and we move on and begin to forget. Time moves us forward and our view shifts.  Each spring in our yard we are like archaeologists within our own lives. In the way our memories buried deep within  sometimes spring forth and take us by surprise, sometimes when we least expect it the earth yields up


When was the day they hit it into the bushes and decided not to retrieve it?
What was the day they walked away?
It slipped by so fast I never caught it. Didn't know I missed it until it was long gone.

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Wednesday, May 18, 2011

By The Light......

I am back. And wore out. but this week was a pretty good one even in the light of...well, the moon.

Biggest called. She said,

My house is on fire! I don't know what to do! I heard a funny noise behind my dresser and I pulled it out and there were sparks coming out of the plug and I grabbed the cord to pull it out and then flames shot up the wall and DecentGuy isn't here and I have all these animals and the wall is all black and I don' t know what to do!

Now we all know the first thing you obviously do when your house is on fire.

You call your mother.

I Said,

Hang on a minute, I'll get your Dad....

(It was fine. bad cord and Friday the 13th)

Littlest has been working out and lifting weights. With a history of gymnastics she was already pretty strong and now she is powerful and she looks incredible.  She also occasionally has some issues with anger and self control.  So like any good parents we decided to support her interest and nurture her talents. We signed her up for a Jiujitsu class. She is very excited. She thinks it will help with her goal of being a Marine. Middlest was not pleased. She declared,

"No! You can't let her learn that. She will hurt me!"

We reassured her. " No she won't. Don't worry. If she does we will call the police."


For the first time ever we traveled and left the girls home on their own.  ( With secret surprise visits from their sister and my MIL.) They really wanted to prove that they were trustworthy and mature enough to take care of things. We were nervous wrecks but we finally agreed. After all Middlest will be eighteen in August and as she said, "I have to be alone at some point in my life." Which is true. I have tried to teach her basic life skills. Like cooking eggs and sorting the laundry before using the washer. But then, she is the one who called after we left because the washer was making a funny noise.  I thought all that was caught up and wondered what she was washing? Two bra's....and a backpack....yeah...anyway.  After that I felt better about leaving them a large supply of microwaveable Ramen and Beef-a-Roni to eat rather than meals that required a stove.  I left them them a detailed list of things to do to fill their every moment and exact times to check in and about 2 full pages of instructions. Including taking care of the dogs. Making sure they were fed correctly, let out often enough and that people/cat food was not left out where they could get to them and get sick.

The first day I sent a text to ask what they were up to. I received this 2 part message from Middlest:

Msg. 1: Throwing a Wild Party
Msg. 2: With Fabio

Later I made sure to let them know we arrived safely. because I know they were on pins and needles worrying about it. I sent the text:

We are here!

To which Littlest replied:

Cool. We're in Vegas.

Which gave me a moments pause because we just updated our wills and left Biggest in charge of everything if we die and also left her a hefty check to cover things temporarily in the event the worst happens.

But Karma was alive and well and the next morning when I sent a text to make sure they got up for school because I Knew They Wouldn't. I received this answer from Littlest:

"Yes. We are up. And one of the dogs got sick and messed all over the house!"

And I was far away. Even though I was in for a long day of work ahead of me, there would be a nice dinner and a quiet clean room at the end of it. One of those moments when you stretch and sigh for a moment leaning back on comfy hotel feather pillows with a small smile because you know, Ah!

Life Is Good!

When our work was through I sent a text letting them know we were heading home. To which I received this reply from Middlest:

You guys are gone for not even three days and i gut my room, quit smoking, finish my work,  and overcome a crushing depression. You need to go away more often.

I said, Ok.

Besides, tells on herself for smoking when she has already been busted for it once. Obviously the same young woman that, when asked,  " it's three weeks to graduation, have you finished your grade recovery and brought up your math grade?"  Answered: "Yes..."

Oh Wait! Biggest just called me. She said her clients are all crazy and she is having a nervous breakdown! She just needed to vent for a moment.

You know what I'm gonna do now?

Moon Music

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Saturday, May 14, 2011

What Do You Mean Your Neighbors Look At You Funny?

2 Things.

1. I have some knee problems and can't kneel on my knees.
2. My husband likes to decide to do something after he already left the house.

Which is how today I found myself:

In the Front Yard driveway standing in front of the lawnmower, wearing a short mumu type sundress, with one hand yanking it down in back, while I bent at the waist, attempting to read the small numbers under the spark plug, with a dental mirror, backwards.

Now the real question is why did my husband just walk past the window with a surfboard instead of a lawnmower?

I have to travel tomorrow and be gone a few days. If I miss you I will catch you when I get back.
 In the meantime,

 Have you entertained your neighbors recently?

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Friday, May 13, 2011

Biggest Called...

She said,

Where are you? What are you doing? You have to go look this song up on YouTube and listen to it right now! No. You have to listen to it right now while I'm on the phone! I was listening to it and when I heard it I told Decent Guy,

 I think this is MY SONG. For the way I used to be.

Then I realized,

I think this is MY SONG FOR MY PARENTS

I said,

I Love You Too.

My oldest daughter has come a long way since she was a teenager. I think she carries a burden of guilt that is not necessary. The past is past. She is self aware now instead of self concious. I am indescribably proud of her. But, like her mother, there are things she does not know how to say out loud. Her feelings a giant boulder she cannot lift at once. Instead She finds pebbles along the way and drops them as markers on the path to her heart.

Blogger still hasn't given this post or the first comments on it back yet and I'm tired of waiting so I am doing it myself!

Comments made before the end of the world as we know it:

Oh. Wow. It must be amazing to reach that point in your relationship with your child. Happy Pebble Day.

Me: Allison, Happy Pebble Day: ) I like it!

Ms. A
Dropping pebbles is good starting point. The farther we travel from our past, the easier it gets to drop boulders. At least for me.

Me: true! I think that's what I'm doing with these blogs.

the mombshell
Allison always beats me here and says exactly what I would have said if I was wicked smart and had awesome curly hair. So, what Allison said.

Me: Yes! Allison is Awesome and So Are You. And I know. I wish I was wicked smart and had awesome curly hair like Allison too!

Linda Medrano
Great Song! I'm thinking it's difficult for us to let go of the past sometimes though. Your daughter is finding a way. Good for her!

Me:  I love the song. It's so appropriate she could she have wrote it.

Help! Mama Remote...
I think its a precious thing for a child to recognize they gave their parents trouble in their youth. I also think they turn out to be some of the greatest adults :)

Me: Help Mama: Nicole: I think you are 100% right!

Accidental Expert

OK you've given me goosebumps. How beautiful.
You're also giving my hope that my girl will one day be able to drop some pebbles herself.

Me: I'm sure she will : )

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

The Sandman

I am so small all I see are their legs. Eight posts surrounding me as we walk. From time to time one of them will pick me up so they can get there faster. On the way home, sticky and tired, they will bicker about whose turn it is to carry me. I keep track of them by their hair. Two girls. The elders. A red head and a brunette. Two boys. Another dark head and one as pale as my own.

They are teenagers. They want to have fun. This appendage is a nuisance but they try. I am swooped up in snug arms and we head for the water. I am safe. I know I am. Gentle swells appear as mountains overtaking me. "It's alright," I hear. A girls voice. "I've got you."

"See we are floating over?" "Weee!"

I am terrified. No. I want to go back. To the sand.

It's hot and humid and no one wants to leave the water. "You take her. No, you take her."

We sit on the white sand. It sticks to our damp legs as we dig a hole. Like in the Robert Louis Stevenson poem my mother reads to me,

"In every hole the sea came up till it could come no more."

Grainy and wet we take handfuls and drip them slowly through our thumbs and forefingers in grayish clumps. Like melted wax they build up in a pointed tower. A medieval castle dotted with tiny flecks of lavender shell. Bits of coquina that scratch our fingers. My feet sit in a squishy puddle that feels heavenly on my toes. I wiggle them around to make it mush more.

After a time the tide recedes. The puddle dries up. I am bored and tired and hot and sandy. The recipe for a tantrum. They are back and forth to the water. They are teenagers. They don't want to leave. I am crying. He says, "I'll watch her." We sit against giant black boulders where the sand is softest. It sifts and blows through our fingers in the wind. They came unarmed with toys beyond a large kitchen spoon. "Do you want to go swimming?" No. " Do you want to make a castle?" I do.

He tries to create a fortress in the dry sand but it won't work. We don't have the tools. Spindly, early teens, limbs and sunburned ears sticking out from beneath his hair. His head, whiter than the sand itself, is bent with determination. And finally frustration. "I can make you a snow man," he says.Yes. Snow is as foreign to me as my world might be to a Siberian but I know what a snowman looks like. He digs a little to the cooler, slightly damp sand below the surface and grabs handfuls. He stoops,   carefully shaping the ball. I am enthralled. Smoothing his fingers along the surface he props them on top of each other, about a foot tall, leaning against the boulder for support. I am delighted as we search for bits of shell and sticks to complete him.

I sit.  Gritty, sticky and tired but happy and overcome with love and hero worship.
When it is time to go I don't want to leave my treasure behind.

My big brother was magic.

He made a Snowman out of Sand.

This post is inspired by The Red Dress Club   RemembeRed Prompt : Sand

I love this memory and couldn't resist. But participating in anything makes me feel like I'm gonna throw up, so I'm going to push publish as fast as I can now and then run!

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Saturday, May 7, 2011

But Does It Define Me?

Surprise! I'm back again already. Which may mean I have a remarkable amount of free time on my hands. Or that I'm not doing other stuff I should be doing. You decide : ) Besides, it wouldn't be a Special Holiday if I didn't mark it with some Really Bad Hokey Poetry!

I am twenty one years
From my body she pours
With a smile they lay her upon me
Take her. She is yours.

A short time freed daughter
A fifteen months wife
Twenty one years of  myself
Now A mother for life

I have done many things. I have not done everything. When I look the choices I have made and ask myself, how have you done? I have to say, Ok. Which as you may know works for me : ) If I ask, what  have I contributed to this world? What is my masterpiece? Did I win a Nobel prize? Did I secure world peace? Did I save the environment, lead a nation to greatness, create art found in the great museums, write the book that defines my generation? Well, hell no.

As some time passed
I considered the choice
I listened to the multitudes
But chose my own voice

I am twenty seven years
When my life I define
Reach for this burden of love
I take her. She is mine.

But I can say to the world, Look, I made you these human beings. The glaze is a little cracked on my first try but it gives it amazing depth and character and I think I completely missed a piece on that second one but it's so beautiful and exceptional the way it is, no one notices and the small one seems like just an adorable trinket at first glance but is so intricate and complicated you can stare at it for hours and never completely figure it out.

I am twenty nine years
Sooner than we thought
But we have no less joy in this
blessing We wrought
Snatched at first breath 
I invoke the divine
Battle the fates for this prize
And win. She is mine.
It still remains to be seen what my actual contribution to the world will accomplish.  Some may say that it is a waste to feel that motherhood is all you have to offer. Well. I don't think it is all I have to offer. But out of everything that I have done and plan to do it is what has real meaning for me. And really,  even if I did change the world, or define my generation in some way, or even just did a kick ass job at whatever I do for a job, all of it is just "something I did."  Anyone else could have done just as well if they had a mind to.
My days and contributions to the world may be transient and whether my accomplishments are unremarkable or remarkable to others,  wordly awards and accolades mean nothing to me.

Whatever they may give,

I am a mother as long as I live.
Besides, who needs a Nobel prize.

Flip the spatula to read more


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Thursday, May 5, 2011

In Which We Get Lame In Our Old Age

Last July I wrote this post about My Summer Vacation.

My family wore me down until I agreed on our plans.

When our golden retriever died our Big Dog was heartbroken and lonely. So we got a little puppy.

For Him.

We found one and patiently waited for him to be 8 weeks old so that we could bring him home. It had been a long time since we had a baby puppy in the house.

9 Weeks

 We have always loved our dogs and vaguely remembered how old they were by how old the kids were and the approximate time of year we got them. We never tried to keep up with something like a birthday for a dog. ....or freaked out because they threw up and spend $300.00 to get them tested only to find out they had eaten an acorn. Or ask and pay for special soup bones at the grocery instead of just regular chew bones.  Or purchase special food bowls and food and measure it out carefully twice a day and soak it in water for exactly 15 minutes...because we became paranoid about bloat.  And wait till they finish to wipe their face with a paper towel.

They have always been an important part of the family but we would never dress them up... and then take pictures of them...or blog about it...

At 6 Months

Biggest says that at work they have noticed this is a special type of empty nest syndrome. Even if they haven't all left yet,  when the children begin to grow up and definitely when they move out, perfectly sane clients who have been bringing their dogs in for years, and treating them like dogs, start to lose their minds. They start with a new puppy. And they spoil it rotten and treat it better than like one of their children.

We of course would never do something like that.

But as long as I already blogged about getting My Summer Vacation last year and dressed him up for Halloween because my kids were too old and posted it on my blog I thought I would update on him.

Because it's his Birthday!

Our Baby puppy is One Year Old!
He grew a little bit

Of Course the Seamonkey hasn't been calling him "The Birthday Boy" all week and planning to make a giant hamburger for us all to share with him......

ok...he has....

 BUT Under No Circumstances Will I


oh never mind.....

; )


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Sunday, May 1, 2011

TO:"i didn't call my mom and came home at 4:30 am i grounded"

My guess is you aren't in a position to read this now but all the same...

To the person who found my blog very early this morning by Google searching:

"i didn't call my mom and came home at 4:30 am i grounded"

I don't know you but at the same time I do. You should have looked beyond the first page of this blog. I could see way beyond that question. I could feel the answer in my heart when I saw that search term. ( Didn't know I was watching did you? I'm a mom. That's what I do. )

I'm assuming Cha Cha didn't touch that with a ten foot pole but I'm mentally 2 inches from your nose.

I'm going to guess that:

You are Not Grounded.

You are Planted. You are Anchored. You are Cemented.

You have no friends, no phone, no TV, no computer, no Ipod,

All you have is an Iamgrounded. For a very long time.

Your family knows, your grandma knows, your local police department may know and your friends parents know and guess what? Your friends aren't allowed to hang out with you anymore. Or you aren't allowed to hang out with them. Either way. If you are ever free again and you try to sneak to hang out you will be busted because you will be watched.  Your hard won privacy and independence are gone. If after a time you are physically free you will still be watched carefully. You will be checking in and reporting your every movement and it will be verified. You are considered as aware of repercussions as a toddler playing near a road.

You are demoted to virtually riding in the seat of the grocery basket and being led along on one of those rubber leashes because you have proven:

You are not mature enough for the privileges you have been given.

You cannot be trusted.

I imagine you will have heard a story of fear that you will never be able to truly comprehend until you have children of your own. Fear of what can happen when you endanger yourself by putting yourself into a situation where no one knows where you are. If a friend or their parents let you stay without your parents knowing, your parents will be somewhat relieved but for that friend-and the parents, it won't be pretty. But, if this isn't the case, count yourself lucky to be alive.  Because somehow I don't think it was because you fell asleep at a friends house watching a movie. (By the way, we have all heard that one before) Be thankful you are going home even if it is to get in trouble and that your parents aren't going home from the morgue.
Even if you weren't doing something really wrong it is bad for your family to have no clue. Car accidents. Crazy people.  How can your family begin to get help if they don't know where to start? Don't ever endanger yourself like that.
If your parents are really angry you deserve it. No one deserves to be put through that kind of fear. It makes a Saw movie look like Dora the Explorer in a parents heart. Whether you were truly in a dangerous situation or not is irrelevant. Anything Can Happen and Nothing is worse than not knowing where your child is.

Apologize to your Mom and Beg her forgiveness. Clean your room. Do your chores without a peep and offer to do extra. Do your homework without being told and do it well. Accept responsibility for your actions. This is the first step. Do not argue. You have no ground to stand on except the earth you are blessed to walk with a family who loves you.

Someday you may be worthy of some trust again. It will start small. Don't complain. Prove yourself bit by bit and be glad of the opportunity. If you mess up you are back to square one.

Most of all,

Don't ever do that to your Mom again. Even if you're screwed up. Contact Home. Your Mom would rather be pissed than heartbroken. Pissed goes away after awhile. The heart and YOU cannot be replaced.

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