Sunday, July 24, 2011

When words fail, prayers still rise.

Sometimes life swings its brutal fist too many times. I've mentioned before that a friend was taken far too early in life and left behind a beautiful family. Vee, the heart and soul of that family, has unfairly had to face another time of pain. Please send prayers, good thoughts, peaceful vibes - whatever you can - for this family.

Monday, July 18, 2011

29 in 29 days

Purge. v.
a. To free from impurities; purify.
b. To remove (impurities and other elements) by or as if by cleansing.

I will be 29 in 29 days. It is time to purge. It is time to get ready to become 30. For some, turning 30 (or even approaching that age) is hard. For me, it is a milestone that I am not too scared of. I've always looked at 30 as an age when I will truly be a woman and it will only get better from then on out. For some reason, it is a magical number to me. But before all of this begins - before I can approach my "magical number" - things need to be purged. I can't explain this need to get rid of things, but I know it has a lot to do with me looking closely at my life lately.

I have felt very blessed in the last year. It is an odd sensation. I realized that I am very hard on myself. I tear myself down with small things. I don't build myself up and I hardly compliment myself. I feel as if I do those positive things, I am bragging - yet I have no problem being internally harsh. If I heard someone say the things I say to myself, I'd think them an awful, dark, negative person. This quote has stopped me in my tracks: you whisper the loudest in your own ear.

It is time to purge. It is a scary revelation. I need to purge things from my 20's. So, starting tomorrow, I'm walking down an unknown path and for some reason, I feel nauseously excited.

Friday, July 8, 2011


There are times when things around here seem to go by so fast. We're gearing up for a week long family vacation, so emotions are running high around here. When I put the boys down for their nap today, I knew something was brewing since Ferret climbed into Weasel's bed. Bad things happen when the sleep deprived come together. It wasn't too long before I had to remind them about not getting in trouble since I am busy packing. Apparently, my wonderful mothering technique failed and somehow (Weasel really doesn't know how) Ferret was struck and he started crying.

And here is where the bitter/sweet aspect of Mothering shows:

Through his tears Ferret stated, "He [Weasel] should be grounded if he keeps this up!".

What a mom hears: Punish my brother, but not right now or ever - because he is my brother and I love him.


And from the top bunk came this:

"I feel so stupid when I do things like that".

What a mom hears: Frustration of growing up. Frustration of not being able to express feelings. Frustration...

As I climbed onto the top bunk to comfort a child (who at the moment felt so lost) I realized that now I am entering a time that is going to be most important for my babies to overcome - learning how to grow; and learning how to overcome bumps that can leave bruises.


Sunday, July 3, 2011


It is the eve of July 4th, and as I sit at the computer waiting for the Johnny Rottens to drift off to sleep, I can't help feel a bit of pride. Pride for my family members who help or who have helped protect our country. Pride for being part of a generation who is trying their best (and at times what may seem like our worst) to help our country move forward as the world changes pace so quickly. No matter our failures, the frustration over government parties fighting like children - I am proud to be a citizen of this country.

I know we aren't going to win a Miss Congeniality award anytime soon. I am not blind to the feelings people have of our country. I wish I could show people from other countries why I am proud. I wish I could put into words the feeling I have when I see our flag fly, or when I see a Veteran walk past in a parade. I wish I could explain why tears stream down my face when I sit with friends and watch fireworks or stand with fellow citizens and listen to someone soulfully sing The Star Spangled Banner. I wish I could explain to the men and woman who sit outside local stores to collect money for Veterans, that please, don't thank me, it is I who thank you. But I can't.

I can only sit here in our home, with the peaceful calm that settles around our house at dusk, and feel a heavy amount of pride. So, if you walk by and see a woman surrounded by two boys and a man, who has tears streaming down her face as fireworks explode above her, don't worry. It is only me.

And do me a favor, will you please? Have a beautiful 4th of July wherever you may call home.