Sorry I haven't posted in awhile, I am now a full time college student and have a part time job as well as a full time mom and often dad, so my dance card has been over filled.
Below you will find my response to an assignment given by my psych professor, entitled "What would you do if you knew you had six months to live". I rehearsed my response then just wrote from the heart. I have to say this was a very difficult question to answer. Do you think you can?
Here goes:
What would I do if I knew I had only six months to live? I find it very difficult to answer this question. In my head I have rehearsed several different version of the answer, yet each time I feel as if I have left something out. I have to wonder, even now, can one truly answer this question? Will we be able to fill in all the blanks, or at least become satisfied before we meet our demise? In my humble opinion I would say no.
I turned forty last year, recently I turned forty-one. I have to admit in this time I have had some great mental discussions with myself about my mortality. I am no spring chicken, more of a late summer one, and I am feeling the effects of growing older. My knees do not spring up from a crouch any more nor can I get through the night without having to pee at least once. I know I am now in the "middle", meaning I am part of the middle generation as my grandparents are gone, my parents are still alive but showing the effects of sixty and seventy plus years of living. I have children old enough to have children, and one already does. I am still someone's child while also being a mother and a grandmother.
If I were to be given final notice, I would probably cry for a day or two. Then I would get up, brush myself off, and love the heck out of everyone within my reach. I would make sure my spouse-elect and children know what they mean to me, and what they have taught and given to me in their lifetime. I would make sure they had something of me, preferably my wisdom and my love to carry them through out their lives. I would tell my mother I forgive her, and my father too. I would look at the sky and the moon and the stars and the clouds and take deep breaths. I would host a drunken party night for myself and my estranged siblings. I would call my two ex-husbands and tell them I still love them and always will and thank them for the things they taught me, good and bad. I would make arrangements for my BFF (Best Feline Friend) Abbie to go with me. I would smile at elderly people and hug children. I would be all the things in that six months that I wanted to be in my forty-one years. I think I would sky dive, rappel (again) and spend a weekend on a beach with my human BFF and let her know that if I were gay I would pick her. I would call my lifelong friend and tell her that I am proud to have grown up with her and happy that I still have her in my life. I would strut my not so taut and firm arse proudly down a nude beach. I would scream at God and rail and pace, cursing his power and begging for forgiveness. I would make up my mind if I really believe in God. I have always considered myself more spiritual than religious.
I would not lament on the unfairness of my impending death nor make everyone sad by living like I was already dead. I would not hold back tears or fears or any honest emotions but I would not make everyone suffer with me. I will not, now, let a day go by without smiling at least twice and telling at least one person I love them.
I would, finally, forgive myself for not being a better wife, a better daughter, a better mother, a better sister and admit to myself that I am a wonderful person. Even when I'm not so wonderful.
While baring my soul in this missive, I have to admit that many things in our textbook have opened my eyes. I intended to pursue my degree to help others but have helped myself a great deal. It is really hard to ignore words when they are written in black and white and put before you. Chapter eight really did a job on my self-denial as well as my self awareness. In nine chapters I've healed so much. However, it is difficult to grow up, even in my forties.
Before I went I would advise those that are listening to love hard, learn as much as you can and teach a child what real love is. Money doesn't make you rich, seeing a stranger smile at you because you smiled at them is better than all the gold, chocolate and great sex in the universe. Hearing a child laugh is worth dying for. To use an over used passage that I have no idea who the author is: "Live every day like you are dying". Don't wait to feel or give or accept advice from a ninety year old lady in the line at the grocery store. Wisdom is learned and earned, so earn and learn, then pass it on.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
If I can hear your dog barking, WHY CAN'T YOU?
Dogs bark, I know this. As a matter of fact, that's the reason why most of us have dogs. The dog alarm is a very effective warning tool. Yet, nuisance barking is just that, a tremendous nuisance.
I am a rather tolerant neighbor, if I may say so myself. When my neighbors' pit bulls broke through my fence and joined my dogs in destroying my back yard, I smiled and said "it's OK, it happens". Since then they've dug under the fence, assisted my dogs in breaking down my side gate and going on a spree run. Nothing like seeing two pit bulls, a boxer, and a German Sheppard running in a pack down the street. Thank goodness none of the four dogs have a clue what breed they are and are happy dumb dumbs. Things happen with kids, pets and intoxicated husbands on game day so you have to pick your neighborhood battles. Where my problem lies is with the middle of the night barking.
My dogs bark at night, no doubt. The thing is, I'm reactive. I don't let them bark endlessly. I will actually get up and check to see what they are barking about or at the very least knock on the window and say some choice words to them. I don't let it go on and on daylight nor dark. But the dogs behind my house, same ones as above, tend to bark for the fun of it. Last night I got up no less than four times to make sure it wasn't my fur-faces making the racket. Wake me up once and there is a chance that I can go back to sleep. More than that makes it impossible. So I spent the last several hours of darkness changing positions on my bed and cussing at the ceiling. Fact of the matter is that I didn't initially fall asleep until way past one a.m. only to be rudely awakened around four-thirty am. In essence, I'm cranky, grouchy and tired.
BUT....Why is it that I can hear them but the owners can't? Perhaps I should ask them their secret to sleep and borrow whatever they take. If it happened once in awhile I'd be fine but almost every night is ridiculous. I'm not into calling the police on dogs but....after a few restless nights that's starting to appeal to me. At what point should I stop being neighborly and get a little pushy? Further, I can't be the only person being kept up by the dogs noise as I have neighbors behind, beside and at the corner. Grrrrrrr.
Since it's daylight I think I may try to lay down for a few minutes. The dogs don't seem to bark during the day.
I am a rather tolerant neighbor, if I may say so myself. When my neighbors' pit bulls broke through my fence and joined my dogs in destroying my back yard, I smiled and said "it's OK, it happens". Since then they've dug under the fence, assisted my dogs in breaking down my side gate and going on a spree run. Nothing like seeing two pit bulls, a boxer, and a German Sheppard running in a pack down the street. Thank goodness none of the four dogs have a clue what breed they are and are happy dumb dumbs. Things happen with kids, pets and intoxicated husbands on game day so you have to pick your neighborhood battles. Where my problem lies is with the middle of the night barking.
My dogs bark at night, no doubt. The thing is, I'm reactive. I don't let them bark endlessly. I will actually get up and check to see what they are barking about or at the very least knock on the window and say some choice words to them. I don't let it go on and on daylight nor dark. But the dogs behind my house, same ones as above, tend to bark for the fun of it. Last night I got up no less than four times to make sure it wasn't my fur-faces making the racket. Wake me up once and there is a chance that I can go back to sleep. More than that makes it impossible. So I spent the last several hours of darkness changing positions on my bed and cussing at the ceiling. Fact of the matter is that I didn't initially fall asleep until way past one a.m. only to be rudely awakened around four-thirty am. In essence, I'm cranky, grouchy and tired.
BUT....Why is it that I can hear them but the owners can't? Perhaps I should ask them their secret to sleep and borrow whatever they take. If it happened once in awhile I'd be fine but almost every night is ridiculous. I'm not into calling the police on dogs but....after a few restless nights that's starting to appeal to me. At what point should I stop being neighborly and get a little pushy? Further, I can't be the only person being kept up by the dogs noise as I have neighbors behind, beside and at the corner. Grrrrrrr.
Since it's daylight I think I may try to lay down for a few minutes. The dogs don't seem to bark during the day.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Dear Mom, Please excuse my absence......
It's been awhile since I've written and I have no real excuse. Writer's block perhaps? Life interruptus? I've written in my mind several times but sleeping on a piece of paper won't make it print.
I've recently gone back to school online. Trying to finish up that Psych degree. I've always had an interest in social work, as a stepping stone to forensic psychology, so I decided to knock out this last few classes. Like I don't have enough stress....Boy, the things we do to ourselves. Actually, I love to learn. If I were rich I'd go to school for my entire life taking pointless yet interesting classes. Nerd, perhaps? Perhaps.
I've also been mind-writing my book. I have a deep respect for the author Beverly Cleary and would love to be an author of her caliber. I enjoy writing and story telling but lack confidence. I know I can do it, but have already been rejected a few times which makes it difficult for me to jump back in the saddle. That whole rejection issue can mess you up. I also want to write teen books and a few animal books. (Not for the animals to read, of course, but from their points of view.) Have you ever watched your pet and wondered "what they are thinking"? I think that if more books were written that were "fun" yet snuck in real facts and realities then more children might read and learn at the same time.
I, personally, abhor reading because I have to but can devour an interesting novel or story in a day, time willing. I also enjoy true crime because it is engaging, (thus my psych degree, ya think?) although I am currently reading a true crime book by a popular writer that is far too descriptive, and, well, so boring that I may give up. Ya win some, ya lose some.
Anyhow, the premise of this missive is to hang my head in shame that I haven't been contributing to my blog. Please forgive me, as I am merely but human. (Blech!)
I've recently gone back to school online. Trying to finish up that Psych degree. I've always had an interest in social work, as a stepping stone to forensic psychology, so I decided to knock out this last few classes. Like I don't have enough stress....Boy, the things we do to ourselves. Actually, I love to learn. If I were rich I'd go to school for my entire life taking pointless yet interesting classes. Nerd, perhaps? Perhaps.
I've also been mind-writing my book. I have a deep respect for the author Beverly Cleary and would love to be an author of her caliber. I enjoy writing and story telling but lack confidence. I know I can do it, but have already been rejected a few times which makes it difficult for me to jump back in the saddle. That whole rejection issue can mess you up. I also want to write teen books and a few animal books. (Not for the animals to read, of course, but from their points of view.) Have you ever watched your pet and wondered "what they are thinking"? I think that if more books were written that were "fun" yet snuck in real facts and realities then more children might read and learn at the same time.
I, personally, abhor reading because I have to but can devour an interesting novel or story in a day, time willing. I also enjoy true crime because it is engaging, (thus my psych degree, ya think?) although I am currently reading a true crime book by a popular writer that is far too descriptive, and, well, so boring that I may give up. Ya win some, ya lose some.
Anyhow, the premise of this missive is to hang my head in shame that I haven't been contributing to my blog. Please forgive me, as I am merely but human. (Blech!)
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Today on Maury........
OMG to infinity!!! I admit with shame that in the several months I've been laid off from work that I've come to the point of watching Maury Povich (sp?) regularly. Todays subject is about teens that have sex with multiple partners and so on. Ugh. As the mother of an overdeveloped 15 year old girl and a rapidly developing 12 year old I have to say that, whew, thank God for my girls. The fifteen year old is boy crazy, at times girl crazy, as seems to be in-vogue these days. I have recently put an alarm system on my house for the people on the inside. Yet, after watching this show as well as listening to the tales of other mothers, I think I may still have some control. How much? Not sure, it tends to fluctuate. For how long? I don't know but am grateful for each day.
The 15 year old is fairly transparent and tends to tell on herself. The one that scares me is the 12 year old. She has three older sisters that have done it all. I've convinced myself that if I were to search her room I'd find several volumes of notes she'd taken on "How to break the rules and not get caught". One of the older girls keeps telling me to "keep your eye on that one". Hmmm. I hope after all the lessons they taught me that I know what to look for. However, this one may come to show that she will be the inventor of a few more tricks. Let us pray......
The 15 year old is fairly transparent and tends to tell on herself. The one that scares me is the 12 year old. She has three older sisters that have done it all. I've convinced myself that if I were to search her room I'd find several volumes of notes she'd taken on "How to break the rules and not get caught". One of the older girls keeps telling me to "keep your eye on that one". Hmmm. I hope after all the lessons they taught me that I know what to look for. However, this one may come to show that she will be the inventor of a few more tricks. Let us pray......
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Blue Monday: Something to hold on to
Blue Monday is hosted by Sally at Smiling Sally. Visit her and the others who participate to see more blue today!
I woke up this morning feeling quite grouchy and cranky. No particular reason, just not feeling especially friendly. (Ok, so I wrote this last Tuesday, thinking it was Monday ((which was a Holiday)) but my mood hasn't changed much.)
I realized that it's Blue Monday, actually a favorite day of mine. Being that I'm "out of sorts" and my Spouse-elect is not around, I decided that a big Teddy is just might be what I need to get back on emotional track. You can hug him too, if you need to. I don't mind sharing. Just don't drool on him. Tears are ok.
I realized that it's Blue Monday, actually a favorite day of mine. Being that I'm "out of sorts" and my Spouse-elect is not around, I decided that a big Teddy is just might be what I need to get back on emotional track. You can hug him too, if you need to. I don't mind sharing. Just don't drool on him. Tears are ok.
Monday, May 25, 2009
What the Heck have I gotten myself into?
The Queen is disgruntled. I am so not looking forward to school being out. I feel my blood pressure rising just thinking about it. These, PEOPLE, in my house are making me crazy. I'm convinced that my mothers' curse worked. You know the one. "I hope your kids one day put you through what I go through with you, only worse!" I'm SURE it's working.
Let me give you a clue. Just a little "inside" on my distress. My beloved other half is TDY--Temporary Duty-- for several months. So it's just me and the babies. Both girls, one is 15 and the other is an old 12. Already feeling my pain? So we have puberty, attitude, sneakiness, hatefulness, lying, sneakiness, conniving, manipulating, forgetfulness, sneakiness X2. (Re-use of the word sneakiness is intended.) School is actually a place to go to hang out; nay, decent grades are not necessary as long as you're popular. Obviously things have changed from my time in high school and junior high because it is now considered "Cool" to be cute but dumb. I mean, fail a year means an extra year of daytime social school. Attending class on time is no requirement because you get more attention from teachers and students alike when you make your tardy but grand entrance. Merely a nuisance to pay attention in class. Saturday school for excessive tardies? Clearly another gathering day for the dumb but cute.
My fifteen year old is my super sneaky diva. She has Daddy's charm (as well as his devotion, yes, I went there.) Pretty with grande's, if you know what I mean, she can smile and make the teacher believe it's his/her fault she doesn't ever do her class or homework. Very, very skilled at the "poor me" and "Look how adorable I am" manipulation. About the only two people in the world it doesn't (always) work on is her natural mother and myself. She manages to skate through a lot of things, including Daddy's wrath, based on the above mentioned skills. Yes, I know what you're thinking, it does cause a lot of extremely heated discussions between Dad and I. He's just as charmed as the rest of the world. I, however, am not.
Now, the twelve year old. My girl, really. OK, so we're not supposed to have favorites but this is where I invoke the "step-moms'" right to choose. I am the hardest on her. I have great expectations for her and get frustrated that she's, well, lazy. It's easier for her to guess or say "I don't know" rather than take the risk of her being wrong or having to actually engage in the thinking process. She's also the silent rebel. How? you may ask. Sit down. This may take a minute.
So far this year we've replaced the garage door, pulled cat litter and paper towels out of the toilet, lost objects that were right there. Other things show up mysteriously broken or marred. I'm sure I'm missing some act of defiance in my rush to get to my main complaint: her bedroom carpet.
I spent close to $200 a few months ago having the carpets through out my house professionally cleaned. I've been fairly strict thus far about shoes, food, drinks, etc.. But alas, my precious girl has most definitely one-upped me. I walked in her room last weekend after a particularly hormonal and argumentative weekend with my little cherubs. When I walked in, it took awhile for my eyes to focus, I think mainly from disbelief or denial, on the destruction of this bedroom. My sweet princess had taken apart several magic markers, you know, where it has the long strip of inked cotton-like material, and splatter painted her room. Not just the wall, but brand new comforter and curtain set, and, best of all, the entire carpet in her bedroom. No matter what you do, magic marker does not come out of beige carpet. Nope. Steam cleaner, please. Hand scrubbing with various substances and potions makes a clean but magic markered carpet. Horrified yet? It continues.
The following morning I was awakened by "MoooooooM, the dogs got out. So I go plodding out into the back yard to check that spot in the fence that I fix (rig) often. When I stepped from my deck to the ground, several inches of water covered my feet to the ankles. Now mind you, I'd been awake all of 30 seconds so my brain could not give me a quick explanation of why I was standing in a small lake. As I blink my eyes and try to make sense of it all, I realize that my in- ground pool is just shimmering in the early morning light. How beautiful.....WAIT! The pool is filled to the very top and water is cascading over the edge. Holy cow! Suddenly my brain kicks into gear and I realize that the garden hose was in the pool, turned on full blast, and had been there since about 5:30 pm the following night. I look around my very wide back yard and realize that not only about 400 feet (or more) of my back yard is flooded but my neighbors yard is too. So I rush over, turn off the hose, yank it out of the pool with several expletives flying out of my mouth, then just stand there. Just stand there. Slowly my chin drops to my chest and I just stand there, that is, until the dogs come barrelling in the gate that had been left open by my beloved 12 year old. My mind was dumbstruck, especially since this was the first time EVER that she' d decided to add water to the pool. That's my job.
Yes, I do drink a glass or 3 of wine at night after they are in bed. I often contemplate taking up smoking again or some mind numbing drugs. If I seem to have aged in the last 4 months, go figure. I want a vacation, I NEED A VACATION.
Let me give you a clue. Just a little "inside" on my distress. My beloved other half is TDY--Temporary Duty-- for several months. So it's just me and the babies. Both girls, one is 15 and the other is an old 12. Already feeling my pain? So we have puberty, attitude, sneakiness, hatefulness, lying, sneakiness, conniving, manipulating, forgetfulness, sneakiness X2. (Re-use of the word sneakiness is intended.) School is actually a place to go to hang out; nay, decent grades are not necessary as long as you're popular. Obviously things have changed from my time in high school and junior high because it is now considered "Cool" to be cute but dumb. I mean, fail a year means an extra year of daytime social school. Attending class on time is no requirement because you get more attention from teachers and students alike when you make your tardy but grand entrance. Merely a nuisance to pay attention in class. Saturday school for excessive tardies? Clearly another gathering day for the dumb but cute.
My fifteen year old is my super sneaky diva. She has Daddy's charm (as well as his devotion, yes, I went there.) Pretty with grande's, if you know what I mean, she can smile and make the teacher believe it's his/her fault she doesn't ever do her class or homework. Very, very skilled at the "poor me" and "Look how adorable I am" manipulation. About the only two people in the world it doesn't (always) work on is her natural mother and myself. She manages to skate through a lot of things, including Daddy's wrath, based on the above mentioned skills. Yes, I know what you're thinking, it does cause a lot of extremely heated discussions between Dad and I. He's just as charmed as the rest of the world. I, however, am not.
Now, the twelve year old. My girl, really. OK, so we're not supposed to have favorites but this is where I invoke the "step-moms'" right to choose. I am the hardest on her. I have great expectations for her and get frustrated that she's, well, lazy. It's easier for her to guess or say "I don't know" rather than take the risk of her being wrong or having to actually engage in the thinking process. She's also the silent rebel. How? you may ask. Sit down. This may take a minute.
So far this year we've replaced the garage door, pulled cat litter and paper towels out of the toilet, lost objects that were right there. Other things show up mysteriously broken or marred. I'm sure I'm missing some act of defiance in my rush to get to my main complaint: her bedroom carpet.
I spent close to $200 a few months ago having the carpets through out my house professionally cleaned. I've been fairly strict thus far about shoes, food, drinks, etc.. But alas, my precious girl has most definitely one-upped me. I walked in her room last weekend after a particularly hormonal and argumentative weekend with my little cherubs. When I walked in, it took awhile for my eyes to focus, I think mainly from disbelief or denial, on the destruction of this bedroom. My sweet princess had taken apart several magic markers, you know, where it has the long strip of inked cotton-like material, and splatter painted her room. Not just the wall, but brand new comforter and curtain set, and, best of all, the entire carpet in her bedroom. No matter what you do, magic marker does not come out of beige carpet. Nope. Steam cleaner, please. Hand scrubbing with various substances and potions makes a clean but magic markered carpet. Horrified yet? It continues.
The following morning I was awakened by "MoooooooM, the dogs got out. So I go plodding out into the back yard to check that spot in the fence that I fix (rig) often. When I stepped from my deck to the ground, several inches of water covered my feet to the ankles. Now mind you, I'd been awake all of 30 seconds so my brain could not give me a quick explanation of why I was standing in a small lake. As I blink my eyes and try to make sense of it all, I realize that my in- ground pool is just shimmering in the early morning light. How beautiful.....WAIT! The pool is filled to the very top and water is cascading over the edge. Holy cow! Suddenly my brain kicks into gear and I realize that the garden hose was in the pool, turned on full blast, and had been there since about 5:30 pm the following night. I look around my very wide back yard and realize that not only about 400 feet (or more) of my back yard is flooded but my neighbors yard is too. So I rush over, turn off the hose, yank it out of the pool with several expletives flying out of my mouth, then just stand there. Just stand there. Slowly my chin drops to my chest and I just stand there, that is, until the dogs come barrelling in the gate that had been left open by my beloved 12 year old. My mind was dumbstruck, especially since this was the first time EVER that she' d decided to add water to the pool. That's my job.
Yes, I do drink a glass or 3 of wine at night after they are in bed. I often contemplate taking up smoking again or some mind numbing drugs. If I seem to have aged in the last 4 months, go figure. I want a vacation, I NEED A VACATION.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
BLUE MONDAY
Picture by: By quangkhuon01g at PhotobucketThis is hosted by Smiling Sally Please visit her site!
The absolute beauty of nature can be both intriguing and terrifying. This picture caused me gasp at the rawness of that which we take for granted. Take a moment to observe the beauty of each new day; whatever it may bring.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Foodie Friday - The Queenz Choice Salad
At the suggestion of my friend Yira from earlymorningpeace, I am participating in this fun event, Foodie Friday, hosted by Gollum from Designs by Gollum.
It seems as you grow, ahem, wiser....more experienced, that your tastes change. I have found that I enjoy food the fresher the better, especially a good but easy to make salad. On occasion I might add a few chunks of Parmesan chicken and strawberries.....
OK so I admit this is not my picture but it's close. I got a little carried away and ate my salad before I had a chance to take pictures to show off.
My personal favorite....hmmm, well one of my personal favorites I have named:
The Queenz Choice Salad
Ingredients:
Spinach
Avocado
Red lettuce
Iceberg lettuce
Scallions
Cucumber
Tomato
Parsley
Very thinly sliced cucumber and tomato.
Garlic salt and freshly ground pepper.
Ground orange peel and/or lemon peel add quite the zest to a salad.
No need for salad dressing.
You can add sliced almond if so desired.
Toss thoroughly.
Enjoy!!
Monday, May 11, 2009
Blue Monday- A place to rest my mind
My first blue monday. This is hosted by Smiling Sally. Visit her site for more on the blue side of town.
~ ~ ~
I am dreaming of a quiet, peaceful place in nature. This is my blue. The ocean, an umbrella and the Blue Hawaiian you can't see :-) Maybe soon I'll be there.
Friday, May 8, 2009
A DAY IN A MOTHERS' LIFE
Photo by Nauman Umair
Not so quietly they creep, as not to be detected. Loud whispers and giggles erupt. Shhhhhh! reverberates around the room, penetrating the barrier of the door to the room in which I was sleeping. Oh, it's still so early this Mother's Day morn.
The creaking of doors and the slamming of drawers makes further sleep impossible. Small arguments and the banging of pans would awaken even the heaviest sleeper. Soon the glorious scent of coffee fills the air, and, oh, is that bacon? I hear " you make the toast" followed by another loud "Shhhh"; giggles once again. The clatter of plates and flatware draw closer, closer still. Anticipating that the door will soon open I nestle further into my bed, pretending to be in an oblivious sleep. I hear "wait, wait, we forgot the coffee" and an impatient moan. The thud of a coffee cup hits the counter, soon followed by a stirring sound. The patter of quick but steady feet halt in front of my door. Slowly, ever so slowly, my door opens. I can sense the peeking and hear the shifting of their precious load.
Yet again, a giggle. Continuing my pretend slumber, I seem not to notice the movement around me. The tray table is opened with the greatest of care. The food and condiments are settled upon it. Suddenly, a pressure on the mattress, then more. I lazily shift my position and pretend to awaken; seeming not to be aware at all.
As I open my eyes my TV comes on. I focus to see what's going on in my room. To my astonishment I find...
My precious children sitting on the end of my bed eating their freshly cooked food and watching cartoons.
The creaking of doors and the slamming of drawers makes further sleep impossible. Small arguments and the banging of pans would awaken even the heaviest sleeper. Soon the glorious scent of coffee fills the air, and, oh, is that bacon? I hear " you make the toast" followed by another loud "Shhhh"; giggles once again. The clatter of plates and flatware draw closer, closer still. Anticipating that the door will soon open I nestle further into my bed, pretending to be in an oblivious sleep. I hear "wait, wait, we forgot the coffee" and an impatient moan. The thud of a coffee cup hits the counter, soon followed by a stirring sound. The patter of quick but steady feet halt in front of my door. Slowly, ever so slowly, my door opens. I can sense the peeking and hear the shifting of their precious load.
Yet again, a giggle. Continuing my pretend slumber, I seem not to notice the movement around me. The tray table is opened with the greatest of care. The food and condiments are settled upon it. Suddenly, a pressure on the mattress, then more. I lazily shift my position and pretend to awaken; seeming not to be aware at all.
As I open my eyes my TV comes on. I focus to see what's going on in my room. To my astonishment I find...
My precious children sitting on the end of my bed eating their freshly cooked food and watching cartoons.
TO MOM'S EVERYWHERE, HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!
Photo by j_jyarbrough
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
So Sorry
"I love you" she whispered
"I know you do"
He said as he turned his face from her view
"I need you"
she pleaded
"I hear what you've said"
He responded softly as he lowered his head
"Please, wait a moment" she implored
As he turned away
Not knowing what to do
or what to say
"Please, just listen" she begged
As he looked at her once again
"I, I just really do not want this to end"
"I'm sorry my love"
she stated
As her eyes filled with fear
Then reaching forward she draws him near
"I went too far"
She mumbles, afraid of what he'll say
Worried she'll awaken to an empty day
"You are my world, my love"
She murmurs in his ear"
I promise
I'll never again
drink the last beer"
Copyright ©2009 Lurleen D England
"I love you" she whispered
"I know you do"
He said as he turned his face from her view
"I need you"
she pleaded
"I hear what you've said"
He responded softly as he lowered his head
"Please, wait a moment" she implored
As he turned away
Not knowing what to do
or what to say
"Please, just listen" she begged
As he looked at her once again
"I, I just really do not want this to end"
"I'm sorry my love"
she stated
As her eyes filled with fear
Then reaching forward she draws him near
"I went too far"
She mumbles, afraid of what he'll say
Worried she'll awaken to an empty day
"You are my world, my love"
She murmurs in his ear"
I promise
I'll never again
drink the last beer"
Copyright ©2009 Lurleen D England
Monday, May 4, 2009
Today I'd like to.....
Have only positive thoughts.
Get a 2 hour full body massage.
Get a new hair cut. Something hot momma.
Not get sniped at by my 11 year old.
Not have to wonder if my 15 year old is telling the truth.
Magically get all the yard work done without breaking a sweat.
Tell my significant (b)other how much he means to me.
Make my friends laugh.
Finally clean my bedroom.
Get caught up on the laundry.
Write or say something inspiring.
Get a 2 hour full body massage.
Get a new hair cut. Something hot momma.
Not get sniped at by my 11 year old.
Not have to wonder if my 15 year old is telling the truth.
Magically get all the yard work done without breaking a sweat.
Tell my significant (b)other how much he means to me.
Make my friends laugh.
Finally clean my bedroom.
Get caught up on the laundry.
Write or say something inspiring.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
What I want to be in my next life...
OK, so the subject of reincarnation is a touchy one so I'll cruise on past that. But IF there is a such thing as "coming back" I want to come back as a well treated house cat. I've been observing mine over the last few months and have concluded that I want to be one of them. If you look to the right you'll see a picture of my love kitty, Abbie. No stress there, eh? Her hard day consists of finding different positions to sleep in, sun bathing in a window of her choice, eating, being petted and cuddled, bathing, pottying and it starts all over. For the most part she runs the house. She's allowed me to live with her for almost 10 years. Although she's grown quite "fluffy" she's still a spry ol' girl. Has her "Tiger in Jungle" moments every morning and every evening. I sometimes wish I could see from her point of view.
Above, you can see Zeus, my Lilac Point Siamese. However, after visiting the zoo, we've collectively decided he is a Siamese Ocelot. This cat is huge. Not the brightest bulb in the chandelier but I have to say he is one sexy cat. I swear when he walks through the house I hear "I'm too sexy for my........" playing. He's very cross-eyed and quite blind but he's the MAN I tell you. I sometimes wonder if he just plays dumb. Why, you wonder? Because if he's not let into the house in an acceptable amount of time he rings the doorbell. No really, I have witnesses. He rings the doorbell.
What a life, no? No bills to pay, no chores to do. The ability to ignore people and be cranky when one wants, demanding if one feels like it and stand-offish at will and no one has any expectations of accomplishment. Someone erks or annoys them they just do a bite-by or a quick little swipe of the paw, hide, then come back with a sweet meow and an undeniable loving face. No repercussions for being a brat and the ability to make the person feel guilty for your bad mood. As a woman I sincerely admire that power. Yes, the more I think of it the more I want to be a well taken care of domestic house cat in my next life.
Borrowing some of Yira's Early Morning Peace
The children are off to school with minimal fighting. I'm in my home office doing my morning routine; checking email, bank accounts, etc. Scanning my blog. One cat is on the floor by my feet close enough for me to rub a toe on her now and again and the other is passed out in a chair to my right. I'm waiting for the plumber (again) to unclog the guest potty.
Outside it's still cloudy and grey, but the birds are out and the squirrels are feeling frisky. I could sit on my deck for hours and watch the squirrels play. I'm silly enough to do the voices for them. (Yira! Do you remember the time we laid on the end of my bed in my apartment in O'side and did the voices for the animals on Animal Kingdom?) One of my very favorite memories.
Hugh Jackman is on GMA right now. Meow. I'd consider having his baby. Not! That part of my life is kaput. What was once fertile ground is now only a playground. (A very little played on playground I might add.) But still the man is F_I_N_E. That accent. Shiver! Little midlife fantasy right there. Purrrrrrr.
So, I really need to find a job. I'm attempting to get my business running but it's the type of business where you have to utilize your resources to build your clientele. I definitely see progression but being the impatient Cancer that I am, and female, I want it all now. This is the first time in MANY years that I've not been employed. I really do enjoy being home (most of the time) so I really want to get this lil' bidniss rolling. Check out my site: llgspersonalasst.com.
(You had to know I'd plug it.)
Let me do my chores now. Good Day to all and may you all enjoy a little early morning peace.
Outside it's still cloudy and grey, but the birds are out and the squirrels are feeling frisky. I could sit on my deck for hours and watch the squirrels play. I'm silly enough to do the voices for them. (Yira! Do you remember the time we laid on the end of my bed in my apartment in O'side and did the voices for the animals on Animal Kingdom?) One of my very favorite memories.
Hugh Jackman is on GMA right now. Meow. I'd consider having his baby. Not! That part of my life is kaput. What was once fertile ground is now only a playground. (A very little played on playground I might add.) But still the man is F_I_N_E. That accent. Shiver! Little midlife fantasy right there. Purrrrrrr.
So, I really need to find a job. I'm attempting to get my business running but it's the type of business where you have to utilize your resources to build your clientele. I definitely see progression but being the impatient Cancer that I am, and female, I want it all now. This is the first time in MANY years that I've not been employed. I really do enjoy being home (most of the time) so I really want to get this lil' bidniss rolling. Check out my site: llgspersonalasst.com.
(You had to know I'd plug it.)
Let me do my chores now. Good Day to all and may you all enjoy a little early morning peace.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Just a stranger's smile....
I have to admit that my life has been difficult the last two years. First my spouse-elect lost his job. Eventually he found a good job then I got laid off from mine. One step forward, twenty to the rear. In between all the fun things that life brings. You live, you love, you lose, you learn and repeat the process many times. In between you make it. Painfully sometimes but you live to fight another day.
Yesterday I was in Wal-Mart, having a deep "poor me" conversation with myself in my head. Mentally lamenting about the lack of money and how my allergies were bothering me and the toilet overflowed again. The dog tore up the bag of charcoal and Ty has an attitude. You get it, right?
I happened to look up and saw this elderly gentleman coming down the aisle. I'm not sure what he saw in my face but he stopped, gave me this beautiful smile that told me how handsome he must have been in his youth. He said to me "Do you believe in good luck?" to which I replied "Sometimes". He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that was folded into a shirt. On the shirt he had drawn the stripes of an army soldier and on the rear was a funny face with a really big nose. He hands it to me, smiles again, and says "You have a beautiful day!".
You know what? I did. Suddenly my attitude changed from "poor me" to "oh, what a beautiful day". And all it took was just a stranger's smile......
Yesterday I was in Wal-Mart, having a deep "poor me" conversation with myself in my head. Mentally lamenting about the lack of money and how my allergies were bothering me and the toilet overflowed again. The dog tore up the bag of charcoal and Ty has an attitude. You get it, right?
I happened to look up and saw this elderly gentleman coming down the aisle. I'm not sure what he saw in my face but he stopped, gave me this beautiful smile that told me how handsome he must have been in his youth. He said to me "Do you believe in good luck?" to which I replied "Sometimes". He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that was folded into a shirt. On the shirt he had drawn the stripes of an army soldier and on the rear was a funny face with a really big nose. He hands it to me, smiles again, and says "You have a beautiful day!".
You know what? I did. Suddenly my attitude changed from "poor me" to "oh, what a beautiful day". And all it took was just a stranger's smile......
IS PLASTIC SURGERY AN OPTION?
Eww. Such a question. Hmmm. Having just recently admitted to myself that I'm 40 and have some 40 p
arts that questions might just cause a book to be written instead of just a blog. I have to say Hollywood has given us quite the examples of "why" and "why not" in regard to plastic surgery.
Take Joan Rivers for example. OMG X Infinity!!! She looks like a
Take Joan Rivers for example. OMG X Infinity!!! She looks like a
mannequin! I saw her on Celebrity Apprentice and had to really look hard at her face to see her eyes. What plastic surgery didn't stretch and pull her heavy makeup covered. Yuck. One for the "Hell no" side.
Then you get the young ones like Ashley Simpson-Wentz. She had quite the snoz on her that took away from her beautiful eyes. (She not alone on the big snoz thing, beeeeLieve me!) Since that little facial enhancement, my opinion is that she's really very pretty now.
I think if I had the money and/or the courage I would have a nose job done along with a wee bit of a facelift, neck lift, boob lift. I'm fine with the size of
Then you get the young ones like Ashley Simpson-Wentz. She had quite the snoz on her that took away from her beautiful eyes. (She not alone on the big snoz thing, beeeeLieve me!) Since that little facial enhancement, my opinion is that she's really very pretty now.
I think if I had the money and/or the courage I would have a nose job done along with a wee bit of a facelift, neck lift, boob lift. I'm fine with the size of
my girls but I'd really like to have them looking more skyward again rather than nodding at my feet. I'd get some veneers on these fangs with a quick
ness. Maybe plump up these lips some. Brow lift. I could benefit from a personal trainer too (Yira!). I mean, I'm still a hottie for 40, almost 41, but if I could do it all with the benefit of surgery I think I would. The teeth and brow lift fer shur.
Question prompt sponsored by Mama's Losin' it!! Click on the picture to read what others have to say.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
One day closer...
Last year my girls and I discovered something we will do our best to do every year. River tubing down the Guadalupe River. OMG!!!! 15 dollars a person, sitting in an inner tube floating down a river. Last year we tied our tubes together and had a total blast. We floated for about 3 1/2 to 4 hours. One can also rent a tube to put your cooler full of BEER on it. We took packages of lunch meat, crackers, home made trail mix, juice and water and had the most fun. The river was still rather cold but after a few minutes WHO CARES? This year we have more family and friends going with us so we should really have a good time. We're heading out early Saturday morning, taking the two hour well worth it ride and off we go! Talk about inexpensive entertainment. The rapids were so much fun and at some points the water was low enough to get out and walk in. Bring your own food and spend the day outdoors with your family. Little to no worry or stress. I recommend this to any and everyone. http://www.riversportstubes.com/
Monday, April 27, 2009
Shhhhh!
Do you hear that? My house is quiet and I can hear my own thoughts. It's raining outside steadily, but the type of rain that makes you feel peaceful and calm. Renewing.
I think I'll go sit on my deck and enjoy a cup of coffee while inhaling the cleansing scent of nature. A mental massage. Hmmm.
I think I'll go sit on my deck and enjoy a cup of coffee while inhaling the cleansing scent of nature. A mental massage. Hmmm.
Friday, April 24, 2009
I just never knew...
I come from a world were I always, ALWAYS felt inferior. I'm short, I have freckles, I was once very skinny. I have red hair, pale skin that have never known a tan that wasn't painted or sprayed on. Even then, it was never much of a tan.
I come from a childhood where the above mentioned were faults.....my siblings were prettier and taller and darker and bolder and more athletic and everything I wasn't. I was always made fun of because I was smart, such a failing, I know. I was always the friend that had to be fixed up because all of my friends got the attention. I never really felt good enough to be close to someone. I've pretty much carried this into and through my adulthood. I was always the admirer, not the admired. So I believed...
We now live in the age of electronics. Society has invented a plethora of communication devices and programs that are used for various phases of unity. We have web cams and social societies that help us find people we haven't thought of in years or people we've carried in our hearts through the years but lost touch with. I first signed up with Classmates and Reunion and never made much of a splash, was contacted by an old acquaintance here and there; nothing momentous. Then, on a whim, after a sleepless night and a glass (bottle?) of wine I created my FaceBook account, not expecting much from that either. Lo and behold.
First came along Mark. My first french kiss when I was 14. My on again off again boyfriend until graduation. He and I have "heard of" each other through the years because our brothers are best friends. He's now married to my junior high and high school BF Cheryl. We stay in touch and I do his taxes. We're planning on getting together with our families this summer. There have been a few others since then that I've enjoyed talking too, but Mark has been the most significant. I just never knew that he felt so much for me as he's expressed since we've been back in touch. I mean, me? I actually mattered and still do, 20 odd years later. What really blew my mind is that HE remembered that kiss. Hmmm. New feeling for me.
Last week I opened my facebook and my baby sister, whom I haven't spoken with in 9 years or so because we're hardheaded, had dropped me a note. Well, I can't tell you the emotions there either. She, too, told me how much I've always meant to her and how she's felt empty not having me in her life. I have three beautiful neices and the handsomest nephew. But I have my sister again, who wanted to find me. Hmm. Hard to express that. I'm still in shock. I just never knew.
About a week ago I do my usual come home, check the mail routine. I notice this envelope that has this vaguely familiar chicken scratch on it. I looked at the return name and address and almost fainted. I dropped all the mail in the middle of my driveway and just stood there. Could it be? No, really, could it?
It was.
I took two days to open the envelope. I picked it up so many times that it was getting wrinkled and soiled. Finally I mustered the courage to open it. Inside was a small typewritten letter from someone that had so impacted and imprinted my life 22 years ago. The one person I actually felt close to and shared so much of my early adulthood with. The girl who was my opposite in many ways but was one of the few people in my life that I've ever truly missed. My room-mate and best friend from the Marine Corps. Intense!!! The memories we've run through over the last few days, the laughs. I'm even going to visit her in a few weeks. She contacted me. Looked for me. Found me. Spent $7 to do it (she made sure to tell me that). Let me state this again: She looked for me and found me. She missed me. She thought about me. Hang on, getting choked up. This woman is my only bio-child's Godmother, the only person I could imagine loving my child like I do. She was the person that was there when I had my baby. True, she ran a red light getting me to the hospital to give birth but I've long since forgiven that. My mind is still doubting that this is reality. Please, Father in Heaven above, if this is only a dream, please do not awaken me.
Someone, several someones, actually felt me worthy of them. Me, the short freckled girl with the pale skin (although not quite so skinny but hey, I have a nice butt and boobs now). Mind blowing for me. Blessings for me. Suddenly that "poorness" I've felt all of my life has turned into this immense, incomparable feeling of richness, belonging. Hmmm. After all these years, I just never knew....
I come from a childhood where the above mentioned were faults.....my siblings were prettier and taller and darker and bolder and more athletic and everything I wasn't. I was always made fun of because I was smart, such a failing, I know. I was always the friend that had to be fixed up because all of my friends got the attention. I never really felt good enough to be close to someone. I've pretty much carried this into and through my adulthood. I was always the admirer, not the admired. So I believed...
We now live in the age of electronics. Society has invented a plethora of communication devices and programs that are used for various phases of unity. We have web cams and social societies that help us find people we haven't thought of in years or people we've carried in our hearts through the years but lost touch with. I first signed up with Classmates and Reunion and never made much of a splash, was contacted by an old acquaintance here and there; nothing momentous. Then, on a whim, after a sleepless night and a glass (bottle?) of wine I created my FaceBook account, not expecting much from that either. Lo and behold.
First came along Mark. My first french kiss when I was 14. My on again off again boyfriend until graduation. He and I have "heard of" each other through the years because our brothers are best friends. He's now married to my junior high and high school BF Cheryl. We stay in touch and I do his taxes. We're planning on getting together with our families this summer. There have been a few others since then that I've enjoyed talking too, but Mark has been the most significant. I just never knew that he felt so much for me as he's expressed since we've been back in touch. I mean, me? I actually mattered and still do, 20 odd years later. What really blew my mind is that HE remembered that kiss. Hmmm. New feeling for me.
Last week I opened my facebook and my baby sister, whom I haven't spoken with in 9 years or so because we're hardheaded, had dropped me a note. Well, I can't tell you the emotions there either. She, too, told me how much I've always meant to her and how she's felt empty not having me in her life. I have three beautiful neices and the handsomest nephew. But I have my sister again, who wanted to find me. Hmm. Hard to express that. I'm still in shock. I just never knew.
About a week ago I do my usual come home, check the mail routine. I notice this envelope that has this vaguely familiar chicken scratch on it. I looked at the return name and address and almost fainted. I dropped all the mail in the middle of my driveway and just stood there. Could it be? No, really, could it?
It was.
I took two days to open the envelope. I picked it up so many times that it was getting wrinkled and soiled. Finally I mustered the courage to open it. Inside was a small typewritten letter from someone that had so impacted and imprinted my life 22 years ago. The one person I actually felt close to and shared so much of my early adulthood with. The girl who was my opposite in many ways but was one of the few people in my life that I've ever truly missed. My room-mate and best friend from the Marine Corps. Intense!!! The memories we've run through over the last few days, the laughs. I'm even going to visit her in a few weeks. She contacted me. Looked for me. Found me. Spent $7 to do it (she made sure to tell me that). Let me state this again: She looked for me and found me. She missed me. She thought about me. Hang on, getting choked up. This woman is my only bio-child's Godmother, the only person I could imagine loving my child like I do. She was the person that was there when I had my baby. True, she ran a red light getting me to the hospital to give birth but I've long since forgiven that. My mind is still doubting that this is reality. Please, Father in Heaven above, if this is only a dream, please do not awaken me.
Someone, several someones, actually felt me worthy of them. Me, the short freckled girl with the pale skin (although not quite so skinny but hey, I have a nice butt and boobs now). Mind blowing for me. Blessings for me. Suddenly that "poorness" I've felt all of my life has turned into this immense, incomparable feeling of richness, belonging. Hmmm. After all these years, I just never knew....
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Why I'm here
At the insistance (nagging) of my good lifelong friend I am here, writing. What will come out of me is yet to be seen as I tend to be an "in the moment" type of girl. If I had to describe myself I'd have to say that I'm a good hearted cynic (sp?) with an occassional attitude but always bursting with opinions. I have definate likes and strong dislikes but am usually open to another point of view. My only carved in stone opinion is: If more adults spent time teaching a child to be productive instead of just demanding it maybe we'd get more positive out of them. But hey, that's a whole other blog for me.
I've lived a million lives in my 40 years. Some lives I put proudly out to public view and others lives I hide in that old rusty tin can deep in my mind. I've had many loves, some more real than others, some more lasting, some more fleeting. I've experienced physicality, carnality, spirituality and more than a few doses of reality. I am a mother, a lover, a fighter, a friend. I can be an enemy but only until you need me then I'll but my heart on the line again. That's what I do. I still, after all I've learned, believe in the basic goodness in people. The problem with that is that the people often don't believe in it. One of lifes many double edged swords. Still, one has to have something to believe in.
I cry at movies, commercials and seeing a dad push his child on the swing at the playground. I think kissing is intimate and won't do it with just anyone. I don't believe in laying all the cards on the table in the first hand, nor do I believe that being in love with someone means you have to forget about yourself. I think life is about choices, decisions, gain, losses and is what it is. Life. Try to find a solid definition for that word. It's interpretive at best.
It's said that I'm intelligent and have a way with "words". I know that my words have gotten me deeply in trouble many times and that I have to learn to say the words that other people love. Often in defense of someone else I'll tell on myself. Might want to pop some popcorn for that one, because there is quite a bit to tell.
I look forward to meeting you and hope you can enjoy and identify with some of my points of view and opinions. I'd certainly be willing to try your opinion on, even if I don't agree.
I'll blog with you soon. The Queen B
I've lived a million lives in my 40 years. Some lives I put proudly out to public view and others lives I hide in that old rusty tin can deep in my mind. I've had many loves, some more real than others, some more lasting, some more fleeting. I've experienced physicality, carnality, spirituality and more than a few doses of reality. I am a mother, a lover, a fighter, a friend. I can be an enemy but only until you need me then I'll but my heart on the line again. That's what I do. I still, after all I've learned, believe in the basic goodness in people. The problem with that is that the people often don't believe in it. One of lifes many double edged swords. Still, one has to have something to believe in.
I cry at movies, commercials and seeing a dad push his child on the swing at the playground. I think kissing is intimate and won't do it with just anyone. I don't believe in laying all the cards on the table in the first hand, nor do I believe that being in love with someone means you have to forget about yourself. I think life is about choices, decisions, gain, losses and is what it is. Life. Try to find a solid definition for that word. It's interpretive at best.
It's said that I'm intelligent and have a way with "words". I know that my words have gotten me deeply in trouble many times and that I have to learn to say the words that other people love. Often in defense of someone else I'll tell on myself. Might want to pop some popcorn for that one, because there is quite a bit to tell.
I look forward to meeting you and hope you can enjoy and identify with some of my points of view and opinions. I'd certainly be willing to try your opinion on, even if I don't agree.
I'll blog with you soon. The Queen B
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