Guess Who's Back? Back Again? *Slim Shady Voice*

We meet again....

Its been a HOT MINUTE since I have had any time whatsoever to purge the nonsense that builds up in this brain of mine.

But the time has come.  Time to just sit and reflect and take everything in. I missed it. I NEED it. And reader beware, Im ALL OVER THE PLACE WITH IT.

So much has happened in 2 years. Another human has entered our lives. "Time" is literally something I know nothing about lately.
 
However, I spend most of my time listening to people and observing behaviors. The way people communicate and identify with each other... My dreams lately always include the water. I'm obsessed with the moon and stars and the rest of the universe. Im finding that as I get older I REALLY, TRULY could care less about what you think. You're within your right to dislike me.  Im rambling.

We are currently in the process of organizing our house from the chaos of the holidays. The other night I was watching the news and one of the TOP STORIES was how to keep your recent purchases under wraps for "would-be thieves" scoping out your trash and making plans to bust in and rob your ass.

Well, just in case anyone is tempted to break into our house sometime in the next week or so here is a disclaimer and some highlights of our valuables. Grab a pen and paper.
 
FYI: Everything in our house is likely to have at LEAST one or two boogers on it.. 

Now you know.

Moving on, my laptop is missing the space bar.  It has also had water spilled directly on the keyboard and the letter "N" sticks because a crumb of food is lodged under the key.

Our television is in the living room. It's hooked up to about 4 or 5 other things that I can never get to turn on solidifying my belief we dont REALLY need them.. Don't forget to take all three remotes - you will need that many to operate the tv, receiver, PS3, cable box.. 
And good luck, BTW.

There are three tablets in the house. One belongs to my 5 year old who would love nothing more than to take photos all day long of the dogs butt, her nostrils, the windowsill, her carpeting and doll parts.

All of our DVD's are in the basement, we hope you enjoy cheesy 80's flicks.
 
All CD's are in the front closet. we hope you enjoy cheesy 80's flick soundtracks.

My jewelry is kept in our bathroom. There are about 12 necklaces from Lane Bryant and a few Mardi Gras beads that I, unfortunately, didnt earn the old-fashioned way.
 
The cars are in the driveway. If you get hungry, there should be enough stale goldfish on the floor to feed you for several days.

My husband asked for several plaid and striped collared shirts.... PLEASE TAKE THEM. They are in the overflowing closet in the bedroom. Just put the three baskets of laundry on our bed to get at them.

Thank you and goodnight.

A new EXPLETIVE post. Finally.

A friend of mine announced that she was completely giving up swearing for Lent. As quite a few of her Fb friends were predicting a massive failure, I was seized by the urge to participate and volunteered to give up swearing for Lent right along with her. The NON CATHOLIC. I dont have to give up SHIT, but I loves me a challenge, even if I just failed it miserably in this sentence.

I actually did fairly well for approximately two days, then slipped up with my dad because he knows exactly how to pull the pin on my crazy grenade - although, as expletive-laced slip-ups go, they hardly counted I didn't spew any F bombs. Since then, I've successfully avoided swearing.

Mostly.

Well, KINDA.

I have toyed with the idea of a swear jar every time I slip up. I've even considered giving the money to my kids, but I'm a little reluctant to tell them about the swear jar. I know they would just push my buttons in the hopes of racking up greater gains. Creeps...

Spewing expletives is relatively easy when I'm calm and clear-headed, even though twenty-some-odd years of expletive use and its mastery tends to get in the way of remembering all the non-vulgar substitutes. I mean who says "FUDGE YOU?" Come ON...The biggest trouble comes when I ram my toe into something and am hopping around in a fog of pain & anger or when I've been startled by a sudden loud noise, a phone ringing, dog barking or my kids come storming in the house when the baby is sleeping. Behind the wheel, it takes a MAJOR effort not to let loose with all of my favorite curse words when some motherloving, douchebagging, lack of logic suffering asshole moron cuts me off in traffic, flies past me because I'm driving the speed limit and he thinks obeying traffic laws is strictly for losers, OR nearly plows into my car because he's too busy surfing the Net and waves at me with one finger for daring to honk at him. It is nothing short of miraculous when I manage to bite back a few MOTHER EFFERS in that situation, but  you better believe I am thinking them. There's only so much I can reasonably do when confronted with the massive stupidity and carelessness of other human beings. People, as a whole SUCK. So anyway,

I've been trying to come up with creative alternatives to my favorite expletives but all I could come up with are these three gems from Looney Tunes:

Sufferin' succotash! Varmint! What a maroon!

Im thinking if I do actually use any of these sayings, I could very well get beat up. Unfortunately, my pledge to be expletive-free will have rendered me unable to speak it would seem.

Till we meet again friends...... <3

Thinking...

People say time heals all wounds. And what they're saying is that hopefully someday I'll get over losing one of my very close friends. They want me to believe that I am strong enough to overcome such a thing - he was just my friend, after all.

Pete was not just my friend. He was one of those very few people you meet and you know right away that this person comes from wherever you do, or is cut from whatever cloth you are, someone you share something absolutely essential to life and living it. The something Pete and I shared as friends wasn't visible or even expressed properly in words. And since he’s gone it’s even more impossible to explain.

Maybe it's just the kindest thing your brain can do for your heart - put a dull haze over the blindingly brilliant or hilarious moments you can’t have back so that your heart can forget how awesome it was that someone thought of you when he heard the lyrics to a fun song, or how special you felt when he hunted for just the right movie to make you laugh when he knew you hadn't laughed in so long, how sweet it was that he appreciated you put a slice of cheese on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich even if everyone else thought it was absolutely repulsive.

He took his own life on Thanksgiving morning in 2005. Over something that was truly senseless. He was desperate and made a permanent decision for a temporary problem. I still find it hard to believe I will never hear another one of his jokes, talk with him about our mutual love of the movie "The Crow" (it was borderline obsession on his part) or hear his highly contagious laughter again. It is something I will NEVER get over. I miss him. I miss his friendship. He deserved a long life with many blessings. Instead his depression swallowed him whole.

Sometimes I think “Pete would want me to smile,” and I try my best to be carefree and silly and happy in the way that we were before his death – even if it’s for a moment. But most of the time I don’t think Pete understood how much we would miss him. I feel like if he JUST KNEW how bad everyone would hurt he would have never made his choice. But I also know, no matter what his friends and family did to show him we loved him, he did not love himself enough. He had no idea how lucky I felt to have been a part of his world, even if it was for a few short years. I feel the same way about my dear friend Tierney. She was an amazing friend. And like Pete, I miss her support, her wicked sense of humor, her off the wall text messages, her ability to make you laugh so hard you shot liquids from your nose or mouth and couldnt breathe easily for a few minutes... I will always remember her smiling, her laughter and forever be grateful I knew her.

I miss them both terribly.

Pregnancy: THE FINAL COUNTDOWN

I've had a few pregnancy-related things on my mind lately....  If you've been pregnant, perhaps you can relate.  If not, here's a preview of things to come.  And if you have a penis...please just sympathize if the woman in your life is currently carrying your unborn child. Rub her back WITHOUT her having to ask you. Rub her feet WITHOUT her having to ask you. Hug her often, kiss her often, tell her you love her WITHOUT HER ASKING. Its the least you can do for us giving up our bodies to ensure a healthy baby 40 WEEKS LATER. Not to mention the excruciating pain and recovery we have to go through.

Looks REAL EFFIN COMFY DOESNT IT?

Asking a pregnant woman to give a urine sample past about...oh...30ish weeks is a total joke.  Tiny cup to pee into + huge belly = can't see what you're doing one bit.  Hence the pee that inevitably gets on your hands every.single.time.  At least urine is sterile, right?   

Speaking of pee, I've been doing that ALOT these days.  Combine doctor's orders to drink a lot of water with a baby who likes to sit on, punch, and kick my bladder and you can bet I'm rushing to the bathroom about every 30 minutes, which is quite inconvenient at night...

"Get as much rest as you can now before that baby comes!"  HA.  What rest?  Besides the fact that I'm up peeing every half hour, there are baby belly dance parties at 3am, hormones raging through my body that think I'm okay with only five hours of sleep, soaked sheets full of sweat, and hips that ache after lying in one position for more than 10 minutes.  Jump off a cliff already... will ya? Oh and when you get a minute, push a 8 or 9 pound watermelon out of the tip of your penis. Thanks.

Rolling over in bed.  Getting out of bed.  Adjusting 3 body pillows in bed. Add a huge, beached whale to the picture.  That pretty much covers it.

Nesting instinct?  My nesting instinct is that I want someone else to do all the work.  Well, technically someone else SHOULD be doing all of the work since I am supposed to be on bed rest and I can only walk about 10 feet before I get kicked in the ribs or crotch or combination of the two. JOY.

Thank you to the cashier at Walgreens for telling me that I am small for as far along as I am.  Most people like to say, "Are you sure it's not twins?" or "I bet you're gonna pop any day now."  There should be at least one class for everyone on HOW to talk to pregnant women.  How easy is it to just say, "You look great!" or "You look so cute!" 

I'm ready.  Ready to meet this baby.  Ready to find out if it's a boy or girl.  Ready to introduce the kids to their new sibling.  And yet, I'm also trying to cherish the kicks and jabs, even if they do reduce me to tears sometimes.  I will miss my belly once it's gone.  I'll miss being pregnant.  I'll miss those 5 hours of sleep!  But...I'm definately ready.

And so, the waiting begins...

Taking It All In

It's the time of year I love. Temperatures are dropping, and leaves start to change. These gorgeous colors that surround me.. They lift my spirits. I feel more alive at this time of year, and it keeps me busy. I am always busiest in the fall but being heavily pregnant has slowed me down this year and it kinda sucks.

I plan on taking my kids to the pumpkin patch over the weekend and hopefully go apple picking once again. They love making homemade applesauce and my youngest gets a real kick out making pumpkin pie. It is harvest, which for some reason, makes me miss my Grandmother terribly. I never met this woman but when I find myself in my kitchen, using gadgets she once held, baking in dishes that were once hers -  things like that make me feel more connected to her. As I get older, I find myself clinging tightly to the traditions I have started with my own family. These are the memories they will share with their own children. A small part of me heals every time we do these things together.

I feel like fall will give me the rejuvenation that I need. Cooler, less stagnant air. Harvest. The smell of woodsmoke. Patchouli. Early nights. Sweater weather. More baking. Fires. Autumn always feels like a beginning for me. The irony is not lost on me. I always feel more alive in Autumn than any other part of the year. It is the time when my disconnection wears thin, and I start to feel connected again. I can feel it now, though. The call. I feel as though I can see my spirit calling me, but it's slightly out of reach. It's like a pain, an ache. I try and do what I can to connect, but I feel as though something is blocking me.

I was first diagnosed with depression at 22. I've experienced quite a few traumatic events in my life. At times I feel angry. I feel disgusted. Mostly, though, I feel like a burden. I wonder if people think I want to be like this. I wonder if people think it's some attention-grabbing thing.  If people knew the things I was thinking about myself, they'd cry. Or laugh, if they are assholes. I also can realize that there are MANY out there much worse than I am, but when it is your own issue, you really could care less about your neighbors. They don't live inside your head.

All in all, I am a FABULOUS actress. I can play the part of the well-adjusted person and hide my true self. I should have the Oscar, really.  I'm finally seeing that NO - I am not crazy - just kinda misunderstood. I think I have been frightfully honest enough for today. With all of the chaos that has happened in my life, it is hard to feel anything but nervous or question peoples motives all the time. It is hard to focus on spiritual stuff when your mind is all over the place. Im a work in progress. I am grateful for music. I am grateful for how it can often express what I am feeling, and can mirror my feelings so well. Sometimes I am grateful to have that certain song that I just turn on and cry or wallow in sadness which helps get shit out of my system. I am thankful that I am who I am. I am thankful for the things that have gotten me here. Even if a fair share of them totally sucked. :)

Pregnancy Paranoia Brought To You By Insomnia...

Siblings...

I watch my sons playing together often... They are so creative it makes me envious at times. They can build a paper city across the living room, each adding pieces here and there, and their imaginations run wild. They talk and giggle, then fight with each other about what goes where, and who gets to put stuff where they want, but all the while -  oblivious to the rest of the world.

I watch them come to a disagreement. I try SO HARD to not step in. My oldest gives up at a certain point and just needs HIS own time. Quiet time in his room, so I gently steer a heartbroken little brother away. I know how he feels; I often crave that alone time myself. My boys. They can drive me absolutely up the walls some days. But I adore them. Absolutely. ADORE them.

Once upon a time, two pink lines told me I was expecting my third child..

An unexpected surprise from a breathtaking trip to the island of the Bahamas. It was celebrated. 8 1/2 months later, we welcomed our gorgeous daughter. But when I saw those lines, I had HUGE doubts. Unlike the ones I had when expecting my second.

What was I doing to my firstborn by bringing another child into our home? Would he resent his big-brother role?  When his little brother arrived he was enthralled. He held his brother, snuggled with him, touched his fingers and peeked under his hat to see his ears. He was soon making his brother smile, then laugh. He cheered his brother on through each new stage. My oldest LOVED having a baby brother. But now ANOTHER sibling was coming. I was terrified. Will I have enough love in my heart for a third child? How is it even possible? OF COURSE IT IS POSSIBLE. 

And still I doubted.

Yet when their baby sister arrived I saw a new side to each of my sons. They worried. They helped. They were so quick to ask what she needed, and if she was warm enough, or hungry, or if she was tired. And they would rush to be the first one to give her the pacifier or a baby doll. They adore her. Don't get me wrong, she irritates the hell out of them at times, but when I walk into one of their bedrooms and find my oldest leading a reading session and the younger two sitting there listening intently - I melt. They all love each other.

Two more pink lines later. My energy was sapped, my patience is completely lowered. The big surprise this time. Although, much-celebrated, again the doubt and guilt. Only now the doubt and guilt were doubled. Just look at them, playing together, loving each other...then the screaming, yelling, fighting, teasing... TIMES FOUR NOW. It will happen. What have I done? What will a fourth child mean?  How will this little one fit in; is someone always going to be the third wheel, left out, feelings hurt, tears falling?

Will my oldest who is TRYING so hard to become responsible, grow to feel that we asked too much of him? More responsibility, less responsibility, I never know what's right. He's so small, the oldest of my babies. So big and yet so small. He is my heart. HE made me a mother.  His little brother - is so sensitive and loving. So curious and sweet.  I don't want my guy to feel forgotten, overlooked, invisible in his position as neither oldest nor youngest. And what will it mean for my daughter? Right now she is her daddy's PRINCESS. Daddy walks in the door and the WORLD comes to a STOP. What if this mystery package contains a girl? Will she be willing to share? Will she understand that daddy has enough love in him for TWO princesses? THAT should be interesting. Then there is me? More children than hands, myself spread yet more thin. I don't want to be the impatient mother, the too-tired mother, the no-not-today-maybe-tomorrow mother, lacking both time and energy. I am afraid.  Maybe their lives would be different if they were onlies - maybe we'd do more, explore more, travel more, tackle more, I don't know - but this gift of each other is something I could never wish away.

Their excitement over the new baby is infectious. My 6 year old can hardly wait. The youngest one pokes and prods my growing belly, asking question after question - "Mama, is  baby sleeping? eating? pooping? ready to come out now? - and finishing with a hug and kiss before pulling my shirt back down. My oldest - he has no doubts, no fears.  He simply embraces and I have so much to learn from him. I ask him how he feels about another baby coming and he just tells me, he will make sure his stuff gets put away, because he doesn't want it broken - and he will change diapers - but not the smelly ones. He's a pretty neat kid. Oh and SLEEP. Yeah... What IS sleep anymore? I've been exhausted all day. After all, in celebration a new baby coming  my three year old decided it was the perfect time to stop sleeping through the night in her bed. So I attempt to bring her back to her bedroom, or my husband attempts. Not having it.... Crying, whining for Mama, it can go on ALL NIGHT. So I cave, and let her in the bed and think I can just go back to sleep after she settles back to sleep. But no. The cruel twist of fate known as Pregnancy Insomnia strikes again. Instead of grasping these last nights of uninterrupted sleep before the baby arrives, I lay awake for hours. My brain refuses to turn off. My loose pregnancy joints begin aching. My pregnancy bladder demands yet another trip to the bathroom. My swelling chest begins to throb and then I begin to freak out about how insane things are going to get when the baby gets here. Nothing like overreaction at two o'clock in the morning. THATS when I suddenly remember how incredibly excruciating natural childbirth is. And yet I have done it... THREE TIMES. God help me. I share this with my husband at two in the morning and he reminds me, I didn't DIE the other times and falls back into his deep sleep... :/ Thanks for the pep talk Babe.

It was a busy day yesterday and it is late. I waited a few minutes after I heard the giggling stop from their rooms and  and I opened their door, and waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark. There they are. Sleeping, peacefully. Snoring loudly...I wonder what they are dreaming about. Becoming a mother was always something I wanted in life. THIS... is a gift. This new baby, tumbling around in my belly is an incredible gift. This new little brother or sister will only add to their joy. 30 weeks and the end is drawing near. I am feeling its urgency pressing into my days. I am finding myself drawing inwards and yet I am so needed, so many needs, when I just want to be somewhere alone. I am tired, so tired. I am even afraid. Afraid of pain. Afraid of being responsible for more needs. Afraid of my own frailty. But some things lately are saving me:

Another mother's baby, with sparkling eyes and round cheeks and an easy smile. I remember - oh yes, THIS is  why - and the hard times don't feel so heavy anymore. Soon, I will hold my own tiny person in my arms.

Small things.... A song. A list. An iron pill. A nap. A square of dark chocolate - filled with salted caramel. A walk to the mailbox. A kiss from my toddler, help from my sons, a touch from my husband. So many small things that are steadying my world right now.

My children who forgive me when I blow up at them again. and AGAIN. Patience, went out the window in month 3.

My incredible husband. This man wakes up every morning and goes to a job he LOATHES, and then comes home some days to dishes unwashed and laundry piled up and a screaming 3 year old, 2 sons who are fighting like pit bulls, an undercooked On-Cor dinner and a frazzled, exhausted, emotional mess of a wife and he smiles, hugs and helps. I have NO CLUE what I would do without him.  None. Love him.  And even on days like the above, I wouldn't change my life. I can do this. At least I THINK I can do this...

We are all so very blessed. And it is my promise to this baby, as with the others before him/her, to always be what I wished and always wanted for myself.  Mom. Arms open, heart full, accepting, loving, nurturing, understanding and supportive. My promise to them always.

It's that time ladies and gents...

BACK TO SCHOOL BITCHES. BACK TO SCHOOL.

I have to admit that for most of this month, I’ve had a countdown going of how many days were left until school starts again. On my fridge.. IN BIG BOLD LETTERS. We’ve had a good summer: gardening, grilling, walking, parks, riding bikes, and scooters, playing ball, and swimming more times than I can count. My boys have played and had a ton of fun. My daughter loses her mind when outdoors.... I wouldn't be surprised if she buys a tent and sets up shop in the middle of a field and grows excessive body hair when she is older she enjoys nature so much.

But there’s just something about August: being out of school for two months already, the kids getting on each other’s nerves from too much togetherness, the building intensity of “I’m bored,” and just knowing these summer days are coming to an end. I'm ready for this shit to be OVA.

Once school starts, I won’t have to try as hard to balance everything. I love the structure of the school year. There is TIME FOR EVERYTHING. And this is the first year my youngest son will be in school 5 days a week. ALL DAY. PRAISE JESUS. It will allow me time to work more with my daughter, and to prepare for this baby who is going to be here before I know it.

So there goes my countdown: less than a week until I can go more than 10 minutes without being asked for a snack, being asked to go swimming even on 72 degree days, being asked to go here, there, and anywhere that is not just staying at home.  Less than a week I won’t have to break up fights until after school hours. When I can start a project or take a break to go tinkle and know that I’m not going to be interrupted. Or at least, not interrupted as often as I am in summertime.

And right now, on a morning when I’ve had to yell things like “Don’t hit your brother with Super Mario!”, “your sister isn't a football!” and "you are not having chocolate ice cream at 8:30 in the morning.." that sounds heavenly. Truth be told, I’ve enjoyed the days of summer when we didn’t have to be dressed and out the door by a certain hour. And therefore not in bed by a certain time either.  When our schedule was just ours: no school, homework, sports, or anything else dictating when we needed to be where. Soon this house will be quieter during the day and then filled with homework, karate, and stricter bedtimes at night. Oh and not to mention a screaming newborn soon. And while the quiet will be welcome, albeit for just a short time, I’m not quite ready to go back to such scheduled days. Not ready to let my boys go. My 5 year old is beyond geeked to get on that cheese wagon the first day. And I stifled back tears helping him shop for his supplies and organizing his book bag. I am going to be brave and smile and wish him luck and then cry my eyes out as they get on the school bus and drive off because I cannot believe how fast time flies. My oldest is going into 5th grade, and it truly seems like I just delivered him yesterday. He is all about how his clothes look, how his hair is styled, how SICK his new shoes are, and what buds he will have in his class. Gone are the days of Incredible Hulk and Spiderman lunchboxes and light up gym shoes. TEN. When the hell did that happen?

So I’ll enjoy these last days of the freedom that comes with summer. And these last few months of chaotic calm until this family of five becomes a family of six. Yikes.

"Crazy train, ticket for one please..."

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am the first person to call bullshit when it comes to certain aspects of religion. But today I snuck away from my children, leaving them in the care of my father at home and entered a Lutheran church near me. I slid into the pew and bowed my head and did the customary sign of the cross. I then felt this overwhelming urge to bawl my eyes out. Desperation just came over me. I sat there and I pressed rewind in my head to my earliest memory from childhood and it just became more and more depressing. I completely surrendered and asked this all mighty being a good portion of the planet holds in such high regard, to somehow give me the strength to be able to manage my life. I live in constant fear and anxiety. I have actually been diagnosed and medicated for anxiety and depression. If nothing ever changes, how can it ever get better?

I have a horrible fear of death and abandonment. How we are raised and what we see give us a roadmap for our life. I no longer want to use this map I have had since I was a kid. I get you can't change people who do not want to be changed. I GET IT.  I guess without drawing out this post for days, I need to understand how to just let some things go, or "Give it to God" as I hear thrown around so often. I just feel like sometimes I need to see those footsteps next to me. I got up, lit a candle and began to have a quick one on one with the big guy. I need help. I need some higher power to begin to explain to my head and heart that I am not responsible for the actions of other people, past or present. I need my head and heart to understand that my life is what I make of it. I want this tremendous boulder of guilt out of my head and heart.

I dont think of myself as weak, but one person can only deal with so much until they literally collapse. And I have. Physically and mentally. Maybe what I was seeking today was a light bulb moment. I was hoping that as I sat there and silently poured my heart out to this beautiful and expensive sculpture's eyes, that somehow, I would get an answer. And you know what? I did. Its that noone and nothing will change, unless I change myself.  Time will tell.

Finding Inspiration...

I don't think you need to be a parent to feel the crunch of a terrific lack-of-time these days.... Normal every day life paired with the constant requests from outside sources = not enough hours in the day for the insane amount of shizz that needs attention. I still need to use this outlet to purge. So therefore, I take time for me, and do so. I have had so many ups and downs this year, with this week being pretty low. I feel that emotionally I am just bone dry. I am entering this stage of numbness with certain issues and I dont like it. I guess I feel like I am continually stifled. That my opinions, thoughts, views and goals have no validation or meaning. I cannot tell you what this does to your sprit. Depression is trying to chokehold me, but even through it all - Im feeling inspired. Attribute it to the beginning of Spring and my new years goal to tend to the garden of ME. But mother effer. I am high and low, broken and yet, balanced. You figure it out. I am inspired...

It’s a funny thing about what inspires you, it can be so deep and meaningful, or so shallow and transient. I have been trying to  live in the moment and enjoy everything that flows around me, rather than getting bogged down with ‘important’ things.

What is ‘important’ anyway?  Ok, so I know that things like jobs and putting food on the table and paying bills and things are important in one sense, and it would be pretty difficult to survive if these things werent tended to. On a simpler level, why do we decide something inspiring or beautiful is ‘more important’ than something else that is inspiring and beautiful?

Being outdoors and in the silence of nature is beyond healing and soothing to me. Watching my kids run and play and their absolute innocence is soothing to me. I am finding myself looking at issues and just repeating internally "Give it to God" "Give it to someone higher to deal with and focus on YOURSELF". I have also found myself heading to church..And engaging my children in talks about their beliefs. I take the view that children shouldn’t be able to choose a religion until they can understand what religion is.  Even then, they should take some sort of... SOMETHING...before they take the final step of committing to a belief system.  And there should always be an opt out process. I teach my children that they are miracles.I am interested in teaching them respect and care for the world around them – not as a part of religious rules that they have to subscribe to, or for the fear of this divine being and retribution, but for it’s own sake and for theirs as people.  I want to teach them the wonder of a sunrise is not more or less than the wonder of a storm.  When my 9-year-old will stop and tell me about an ant he sat and watched cross the sidewalk to make sure it got safely into the grass to make its way home to its mom, my heart melts. It tells me that he is aware of life and its value. Something as small as an ant and its safe journey across the concrete MEANS something to him. I love this child so much my heart hurts. He is a lesson to be learned EVERY minute of EVERY day. Those of you who know me, and know him, know what I mean. All of my children are beginning to become inspired by nature. We spend time outside, and once inside, the crayons come out and pictures of sunshines, rainbows, trees and flowers with their family gathered together begin flowing. It gives me peace to know, that what is soothing and calming to me, brings them happiness also. ::sigh::

Nature isn’t about complicated ideals.  It doesn’t bend and change shape to be what you want it to be. It just... IS. Mother Nature is simple, violent, ruthless, and beautiful.  It doesn’t have to justify its beauty, any more than it justifies its violence.  The things that inspire us should be the same.  Simply there, inspirational, for whatever the reason, and not graded according to their worthiness. I am inspired by the green around me, the rebirth of nature and the happiness the sun brings me when it shines on my face. My children's laughter. It can lift my heart and make me cry because I still continue to be amazed that these three beautiful beings came from me and I seize up with worry about the world I am sending them out into and how they will respond to what their lives bring them. No matter what they learn at home and the tools I give them to navigate throughout life, there are still people out there who seek to harm others. We hear about it every day.  I am an eternal worry wart. I cant help it, I will more than likely NEVER stop. THEY inspire me. I may be all over the place with this post, but that is because lately, my mind has been all over the place. Life and death, past and future.... It's not a good place to be at times, my mind...

The worth of inspiration is what it inspires you to do. Be inspired. 

February Funk. I HAZ IT.

Sometimes, it's really hard to take the saying "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff" to heart.  Inevitably, lots of small things put together equal one big thing and your day officially blows big ass. "That's the last straw," you hear yourself yelling when you run out of milk or make a wrong turn or burn your finger on the stove. I find myself in this boat a lot.  Why is it so much easier to focus on all the negative little things in life than all the positive little things?  Take yesterday, for example. 

My Debbie Downer list included:
a cloudy, rainy, snowy craptastic day
nothing in the house for lunch
whines and tantrums from a certain two-year-old
Said two-year-old dropping what lunch I was able to make her in her lap because she was goofing off instead of eating...
a sad, depressed feeling that wouldn't go away
a horrific headache
the daunting task of meal planning and grocery list making was hanging over my head
a husband who was at work while I was marinating in my "bad" day

The thing is, it wasn't that bad of a day. But my brain kept track of those little things, adding them up and adding them up until I was ready to deliver a Rodney King style beatdown to the first person who looked at me wrong. Sometimes it's really hard to get off that negative path, but thanks to my camera and the ability it gives me to reminisce on the day through the lens, I can now see the tiny little good things that I should've been adding up instead.

Despite the dreary, snowy BLAH day, I managed to have some chill time with my middle and youngest chitlins.

We had a tea party.
We played with bubbles.
We created odd creatures with playdoh.
We got lost in about 6 books.
I got schooled in wrestling action figures.

The oldest came home and flew through his homework without a battle and even cleaned up dinner, his toys and took a shower. All without me skreetching at him. Be still my heart. I am thankful for the time I take to capture all the little moments in my children's lives. It seems like their childhoods are going by so quickly.

And while they are napping... I figured I would purge...

10 Things You Probably Don't Know About Me

1.  When I was in elementary school - either 7th or 8th grade, I think it was,I accidentally left a curling iron plugged in and shut the front door to my house, thus locking my dumb ass out. Panicked, I grabbed a fire extinguisher from my dads car (THATS A WHOLE NOTHER ISSUE...) and decided to throw it through the bay window. But not the WHOLE window.... an opening probably 2X2 feet wide. I wont post a picture of what I looked like back then, but you can pretty much guess, I wasnt gonna fit through a 2X2 opening. A neighbor came to my rescue and busted in the front door. All because of..... a fucking curling iron. My douchebaggery began that afternoon, many years ago...

2.  I have a sleeping disorder.  Nothing diagnosed, because I am convinced I'm the only person in the world with this problem. I cannot stand the sound of someone breathing/snoring while asleep.  It has caused me so many issues throughout my life as I've struggled to find places to sleep alone on vacations or at sleepovers.  I have slept in bathrooms and closets, I've used fans and earplugs...I have threated to shove random items into people's body cavities... Its pretty intense. So if you are a snorer, I am going to need you to shove a sock in your face if you plan on sleeping anywhere near me or expect some shit to go down. No joke. Hand across heart.

3.  I went through what I call a "rebellious" stage in high school, not in the form of drinking and drugs, but shoplifting and penciling my eyebrows and lip liner with brown/black Wet N Wild pencil... that more than likely - was stolen. I got a lot of free stuff, got caught twice, grounded twice, then my dad threatened to beat my ass if I did it again and then those stealing days ended.  As for the lips and brows, that came to an abrupt end. Probably when I couldnt steal it anymore. Someone should have handed me the memo sooner though. Without those sharpie hued eyebrows, I sort of resembled Robert Blake:

Frightening. I know.

4.  I had horrible nose bleeds as a child. I have no idea why I got them... probably the fear of yardwork or mum planting which was pretty much a weekend ritual in my house, caused them. Bloody nose or not, I was out in the lawn at the crack of dawn well before the sun was up digging holes for those freebies from McCormick Place.

5.  Childbirth was one of the best experiences of my life.  I absolutely loved my labor and delivery experiences.

6.  I long to be a stay-at-home-mom who does educational activities with her kids, who keeps her house clean, who is super creative and is constantly making new things, who cooks healthy meals each night, who maintains a positive attitude in almost every situation.  Oh wait, this woman doesn't exist. And if she does, fuck her. 

7.  I am addicted to Scrabble.

8.  I am an organic food whore.

9.  I'm a very nostalgic person.  I wish I could time travel or re-live some of the great moments of my childhood and teenage years.

10. My goal is to be the Tori Spelling of Northwest Indiana. Minus the horrible boob job and infidelity thing... I love her craftiness, her drive, her style and her dedication to her children.  Tori kicks ass.
Thats all she wrote folks.

Time's A Wastin'....

New year, new start. So what exactly does that mean… It means Im tired of saying I am going to do something and not really following through with it. It means I am tired of getting the same results because I am not doing what I set out to do.  After much soul searching I have finally… FINALLY set the wheels in motion for a new lifestyle for the REST of my life. My babies deserve a healthy mother that is here physically and mentally for them. They didn’t ask to be here, and I don’t have the RIGHT to leave them before I should.  And I feel…. GREAT.  Probably better than I ever have in my life.  

I have also learned a few things about myself in this process….THEY ARE:

Zumba classes give me the ability to dance my heart out, minus the hoochie clothes and heels, pour sweat like a fool and not worry about smeared makeup.. and have me feeling like the backup dancer J. Lo wishes she had. ::SNAP::

I am very pleased with the Indiana school system. I talk mad shit about some of the teachers my son has had, but in the end, they have been consistant and open and I love that.

Tomato paste in a tube is pretty awesome.

I dont give myself enough credit for the things I CAN and DO - do.

People will NEVER be what you keep wishing they would be. You can exert all the energy you want in hoping and wishing and wasting money by purchasing prayer candles at Walmart and a rosary to PRAY these people into what you wish they were, but in the end, they are - who they are.  You either decide you can tolerate the energy in your life, or you make the decision to remove them. My lesson is learning that although it is unfortunate, life goes on without people who should be there.

A container of Chobani in the morning gives me a happy, content toddler. At least until lunchtime when I inform her she cannot have another. Dealing with Reagan from “The Exorcist” would be a walk in the park.

Michael Jackson has become the seventh member of our family. His music is played daily in this house and there is a lot of crotch grabbing and “SHA-MON’S” being thrown around.

I have, in fact, worn my sunglasses at night.

I blame others for things I have the ability to and/are responsible for changing in my own life. I commit to not being locked in an emotional tug of war with the others who arent playing.  I let it go.

I am a total advocate for sensory based play. It is amazing.

Thats not sweat you see pouring down my face when Im running... Its tears.
The simple act of breathing is incredibly calming. Mediation is a 20 minute part of my day, EVERYday.

I am buying organic about 80% of the time and I am pretty geeked about doing the garden again this year and trying to grow a few new things.

My oldest son is a carbon copy of me artistically. He is my dreamer, my poet, my dancer, my creator, my painter, my child who has his head in the clouds at times, but knows what he wants.  

There are a SHITLOAD of uses for baking soda.

This may sound very geriatric of me, but I make some mean ass soup. So if you want some, stop by… with some bread.  And hand soap. I’m out of hand soap….

I wish I had friends who lived closer. Im not in the boonies, but without friends near – it sure feels like it. ::kicks banjo playing frog::

If left alone, I could eat an entire bushel of Cuties.  And I don’t give a shit if they are made “for kids”.

Butt sweat is pretty gross. Being behind someone in the gym who’s ass looks like they just sat in a puddle or lost bladder control will have you wishing you were Stevie Wonder. Im going to need you to put a towel between your cheeks please…

That’s all she wrote folks.  Whatever keeps you positive – DO IT, and do it well.

Parenthood.

It is the most terrifying thing a human being can enter into on the planet. To me at least. And some may think thats because once you become a parent you have to cut all your hair off and drive a mini van. I, think differently.

When the majority of my friends at the time were busy with schoolwork and part time jobs, I was already playing house. Out of school, working full time and had my much older boyfriend living with me. If I knew then what I know now - I would have drop kicked myself. Leaving that alone, I will move on to say one of the best things that ever happened to me back then was the discovery I was expecting my first child. In May of 2002 I delivered (rather quickly) a 6lb 10 oz blond haired, blue eyed baby boy who changed my life. I was amazed and absolutely petrified that I was a mother. After the nurses catered to me and pushed so hard on my stomach to make sure that handy dandy uterus was clamping back down that I wanted to claw their eyes out, I sat in my hospital bed and I cried and cried and just stared at my absolutely perfect baby boy and promised him I was going to give him the best life. And while it hasn't been perfect, I hope I have lived up to my promise. As women, we grow these perfectly innocent creatures for 9 months and then within minutes we hand them over to the mean and ugly world. I have welcomed 2 more children since he was born and while the love in my heart has grown with each of their births, so has my fear.

I am raising my children to be honest, open-minded, loving INDIVIDUALS. To treat others as they would want to be treated. To be decent and moral. I do not raise them with the belief that the minute they show that they are human and make a mistake that they will be banished to a firey pit for all eternity. BUT I am also selfish..... I am a mother. I want them never to know the pain of a broken heart. I want them to always excel at whatever it is they choose to do in life and always be financially able to provide for themselves and eventually their families. I want them all to have friends who support healthy, wise choices. I want them to always eat their vegetables, use their seat belts, turn down drinks before they are 21 and always be at my dinner table at 6 for the rest of their lives. Because I am SELFISH. It is not that I do not have faith that with the way I am raising my children they will not be able to make their own choices, because this is what my role is - to lay the foundation for them, so when my husband and I are not around they have that voice in their head (better known as mother's annoying shriek) that will help them make the right choice. The safe choice. The one they know in their heart of hearts is the right one to make. I'm just SELFISH and want to keep them protected. From everything. FOREVER.

I dont deal well with separation. I have a horrible anxiety disorder. I have abandonment issues. Hell Sandra has issues for DAYS and I have no clue what I am going to be like when my children are teens and their friends have more influence over them than I do. I will be heartbroken. I will want to sit perched on their shoulders like the annoying red headed parrot they never wanted. It is a chapter of my life I am not prepared for. But as I sit here suffering through another night of insomnia with these irrational "what-if" fears going through my mind, my babies are in their beds, still innocent, still clueless to all the things that await them with puberty and adulthood, and tomorrow will wake up thinking I hung the sunshine in the sky for them and thats the magic I dont ever want my kids to lose. I just want them to enjoy being children. They have their whole lives to be adults.  My father gave me the best life he knew how too and could. Me saying I want better for my children in no way demeans him. But there are some things I grew up watching others have that I wished I had. I want family dinners at my table, holiday traditions, vacations, a photo for EVERY single thing in their lives I was ever able to capture for them (Mission ACCOMPLISHED). I want them to be able to look back at their childhood with love and incredible memories because when we get older, its really all we have. These years shape who we are and who we become. What we want for our lives and the lives of our future families. If I dont do my job right the first time, the ONLY time I have to get it right, will they want to share their lives with me later?

These 3 little people have helped me heal a massive wound in my soul that unless you are ME, you couldnt or wouldnt understand. Every time they laugh, or even FIGHT. Every time they wrap their arms around me and say "I Love You Mommy", I heal. It is a never ending process. Let's compare it to...ORGAN REMOVAL. You know it's gone, its never coming back, there is no use for it in your system... so it is removed. Either by choice or necessity, but the scar is still there. Everytime you LOOK at the scar you are reminded of what was once there or should be there. It's how you make your next move that matters. I forgive people, but I dont forget. I have to move forward from whatever held me back in the past to be able to give 100% to my children. If I am angry at people my children are suffering. I wont allow that. So I have found quite a few ways to release. I guess Im all over the place with this. But I couldnt sleep, had to just purge. These damn stories of horrific child abuse in the news have my heart sad. Oprah Winfrey said it so perfectly when she said "Biology is the LEAST of what makes someone a mother". I just hope that when I am old and falling apart my children will still seek my advice and support and want "Mom". Until and even THEN, I will still spend every waking moment of my life worrying and loving them.

All I Want For Christmas Is..... A colonoscopy!

Christmas is 2 weeks away.

Im still trying to figure out where the hell 2011 went....

Yeah. I was watching my beloved soaps the other day and a commercial came on - very similar to one they ran a few years back. Only THIS time, the commercial was a woman who was, NO-SHIT, (AND NO PUN INTENDED) urging other women to gift their husbands with a colonoscopy this holiday season. Yes, nothing says Merry Christmas like anal invasion. I giggled, I rewound the DVR about 15 or 16 times and then I thought to myself...This could be THEE best gift EVER! Although something tells me if I presented my husband with an appointment for a colonoscopy he would gladly suggest he return the favor. ::VOMIT::

Im getting ready to send out the Christmas cards. Shopping is almost done, Christmas has officially projectile vomited throughout my house. All is good. I envy the people who can sit and write or type out those end of year letters they enclose with their cards. I cant do it. I'm lucky if I remember to throw a bra on before I leave the house, let alone the events that took place over a span of 365 days. If I did send a letter it wouldnt be much... probably go a lil summmm' like DIS:

Happy Holidays Friends and Family,

Hubby still hates his job, we need new carpet and the dog sheds like a mother fucker. I learned how to make my own buttermilk, the kids are good - one decided to rip a chunk of the dry wall out, the boys bond over farts, soft dart machine guns, and their disgust for Justin Beiber. Our Little Princess handed me her own shit the other day. I suppose you have figured out by now that all three provide me with epic Springer-like insanity on a daily basis. My father is not aging gracefully and I have tonsil stones. Other than that, not much to report on the homefront.

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, dont forget to return the .44 cent favor.

The Jakubowski's

~

So be thankful this holiday season when you recieve the card I had to do over and over with the pictures I had to take over and over, separately, of my fabulously uncooperative children, and don't get "the letter".

Because.............. WE A WHOLE BOX OF CRAZY!

Till next time chitlins.

Miss Me? Yeah, Me Too...

A sign of life. That's right. I'm alive... I realize you've had absolutely no evidence of this the last few weeks and well, I am sorry.

They say life is what happens to you when you've already made plans. Life, like SHIT - Happens. I have been unable to blog. I am DEEP in the luciousness that is Autumn and well, this broad simply doesnt have time. 

:::GASPS::::
Halloween. Samhain.

It's in FULL THROTTLE bitches. And my home literally looks as though it has projectile vomited in it. Words cannot describe the love I have for Autumn. I mean I would be slap happy if it were like this all year round. Is there anything more beautiful on the planet than the colors, scents and activities offered by this season? Didnt think so and shame on you for even thinking otherwise.

I can't promise that with kids, and life in general that I'll be as frequent as I was, BUT I am going to be focusing more on my writing. And I think the first nugget I should write is a letter to WHOMEVER would be responsible for putting a MOTHER EFFING TRADER JOE'S IN NORTHWEST INDIANA. I mean WTF?!?! I do 99.9% of my grocery shopping there. Are the folks of NW Indiana "less than"? Do we not deserve a natural or organic foods market near us? Bastards. Joe is a BASTARD. So I drop midget #1 off at school and take midgets #2 and #3 with me. Midget #2 is currently on a kick where he must announce the temperature as well as the direction and speed the vehicle is traveling at pretty much every 5 to 10 minutes. Midget #3 was unusually happy and decided to sing the entire theme song to Mickey Mouse Clubhouse the ENTIRE drive. AT THE TOP OF HER LITTLE LUNGS.  I should note the song is maybe 1 minute long. But for the 30 minute drive - I was COMMANDED to listen to it. Insanity is brewing even before I get to the store. I hate shopping with my children. It's a sad, pathetic day in your life when you become excited to get dressed, and go out on a Friday night after 9 because you are............... GOING TO THE FUCKING GROCERY STORE. But I <3 it. It's "ME" time.

NOT WITH KIDS. They want to test all the samples, sniff all the vegetables and breads and sample juices and use their own "carts" (BTW, whoever thought it was cute to make a mini "shopper in training" cart should be strapped inside of one and pushed off a cliff. I can't tell you how many displays my kid has crashed into trying to fill the ridiculously tiny basket with things we werent buying or even needed...) Then my daughter begins a major demonic possession over a fruit snack she couldnt eat RIGHT THIS MINUTE. Midget #2 has to use the bathroom. And when I say "use the bathroom" I dont mean "tinkle".... I mean this was one of those "OPEN THE DOOR WITH YOUR PANTS AROUND YOUR ANKLES" and plead with Mom to come "HELP PLEASE?" potty breaks. It was... well, LOVELY. So I have to leave the one kid in the cart and pray to THE GOOD LORD that she doesnt unbuckle and fall out of the cart while I race into the potty hoping not to see peen and trying not to GAG at the overwhelming odor of what left my 5-year-olds tail end.

Once that was over, I then race through the store and get what I need and get the HELL out before the mid-morning meltdown (She's got a cold so she's not sleeping right and naptime is all over the place) Miserable. JUST miserable. Then I get in line behind some chick who failed to properly bag her melons and left them dangling near her navel and my ever inquisitive 5-year-old announces loudly "Whats wrong with her Uh...THINGIES?" YES - even he noticed. It was enough to make you want to slam a bottle of Pepto-Bismol. 

Even with the alarming nature of this picture, I can assure you what I saw was much worse.

I suddenly went deaf in the checkout line, oblivious to my daughter leaning over and shoving candy bars into the neck of her jacket, blinded to the fact that my 5-year-old was doing the Moonwalk and knocked over a fresh plant display and saw flashes of me punching the cashier in the face for smiling so much. Why was she irritating me so? I mean I suppose she could have been rude and ignorant and I would have complained and threatened to have her job by sundown. This woman did nothing wrong but be pleasant and I wanted to elevate her through the front window "Terminator" style. Between the Joker faced cashier, the demonic children and the woman with mudflap boobies to her kneecaps, I went a little Sybil. But I will continue this trip every 2 weeks.

Because I am a Trader Joe's Whore.

I guess I could do all my shopping at Super-Walmart. Which I should have you know, has their own group of bra-less wonders wandering the isles late at night too.

Wal-Mart. I love and HATE Wal-Mart. The whole concept of this store intrigues me. Sure, Im all about "falling prices" but do you trust that piece of "fine jewlery" you just bought an isle over from the deli meat? Yeah.... consider that folks. And while I am a total hypocrite and will continue to shop there until the end of time, I just figured you all should be aware that I will know your fine jewlery was, infact, purchased here.

Until we meet again....

TOODLES!

"People... The "H" Is Silent"

This...

IS NOT MY GARDEN.

The owner of this garden is highly pretentious. She is married to a man she only sees on the weekends. She spends her time with fabulous gay men that I wish I could spend my time with. They party every weekend while crostini toasts on the grill as they sip potent whiskey sours, and fabulous martini's and play card games. The garden belongs to Ina Garten. You may know her cackling, wheezing ass, as the Barefoot Contessa and I am disgustingly jealous of her. I do not live in the Hamptons, and my husband is not the Dean of a College, so, therefore we took our garden down a few thousand notches and did it Cedartucky style. THIS folks, is the garden I aspire to have one day. Protected from nibbling rabbits and other pesky creatures... Everything grows gorgeously and that heffa is in WALKING DISTANCE from the finest selection of fruits (yes, she has her own orchard on her property - EYE ROLL) vegetables and herbs whenever she wants it. I hate her. And yet... I love her. But this post isnt about Ina and her "fabulousness". Its about Sandra and her lack....of.

I love, love, LOVE the fragrance and texture of........herbs! Grow your own if you can in a window box or basket garden, or pots on the window sill. You are even luckier if you have the ability to grow them in your very own garden. And in Sandra's neck of the woods, she does just that. I'm a herb pusher! For other uses, not just in foods. I really dislike the use of over the counter medicines for alot of ailments, and turn to natural remedies first. This year I discovered ORANGE MINT.. Yes people ORANGE MINT - I had never heard of such a thing, but I bought it, planted it and you know what? Its FABULOUS. I am going to try and coat some of the leaves in chocolate as a snack and see if my kids will eat them. Im also looking forward to making an orange steeped tea and using them in there as well. I will see how it goes..

All herbs impart an additional vibrance to the food you cook. With practice, you'll start using your favorites in everything and will instinctively know which herb goes into the cooking  pot!

**As always, check for interactions with medications and side effects for people with medical conditions.**

Basil, sweet- Use with mushrooms, in eggs,cheese and fish dishes.
Basil, perennial- For flavoring eggs, fish,game meats, pork,beef, chicken, shell fish and salads
Catnip ( catmint)- Leaves used in preparing herbal tea. Cat drug (!)
Chervil- Use young leaves, fresh or dried, in tomato sauce, light cream sauce
Chives- Use where mild onion flavor is desired. Good in eggs, sauces, salads and cheese spread/sauce.
Coriander- Ground seeds used in breads, cookies, cheese sauce and  vegetable soup like squash or pumpkin.
Dill- Use in soups, salads, cream cheese,eggs and fish.
Garlic- Used for bread, combined in butter for spread,salads, sauces,soups, in meats, poultry, fish. Roast whole  in 'paper' and peel off clove, squeeze out garlic paste on cracker or bread.
Hyssop- tender young leaves used in flavoring fruits,pies,salads, soups, stews, drinks.
Lavender- Flavoring for beverages and jellies; flowers used for perfume.
Sweet Marjoram- Flavoring of salads,meats, stuffing,fish and poultry.
Orange Bergamont Mint-use in meats,mint jelly and iced drinks.
Oregano- tomato sauce, Mexican dishes,Italian dishes, shellfish,salad and meats.
Parsley- Use as garnish in salads and soups, in cooked meats.
Pennyroyal- Makes a bland salad taste slightly bitter.Use sparingly.
Peppermint- Use sparingly as garnish on fruit cocktails, cold beverages,salads. Makes good herbal tea.
Pineapple Mint- Used in meats. Refreshing slightly fruity taste.
Sage- Use to season meats, sausage,stuffing.
Summer Savory- Use in beans,egg dishes,cream sauce,all poultry.
Sorrel- Use sparingly in green salads.
Tansy- Use in baked fish, meat pies,or egg dishes.
Tarragon- For salads and in dressings, fish, poultry,delicious in sauces.
Thyme- Use in meats,wild game, fish, as herbal tea ( sedative effect)


So there you have it. Plant some herbs....dont smoke 'em. PEACE!

I'm Beginning To Make Charlie Sheen Seem Normal...

At the age of 22-ISHHHHHHHH, my shell cracked and I discovered Paganism. Like me, Paganism is loose. ::cough:: Well, lets rephrase that. Its less etched in the Religions that have come before me. I am more connected to my own understanding that labels can interfere with understanding that the "Source", the "All Mighty", the true nature of Divinity is something that is beyond human comprehension. My journey is about finding the joy and meaning in the moments that involve caring for my family, that involve being aware of the  changes in Nature, simply being grateful every day even when it is a struggle to think of anything to be grateful for which is often sometimes. That makes me feel totally ungrateful. But being a SAHM will make you a loose cannon.

Life is hard. I don’t need to tell you that. Tons of unrewarded work, unacknowledged effort, unbearable grief, uexpected pain, chaos and tragedy...But it also brings moments of joy, wonder, beauty and great peace if you allow it. But what happens when our well runs dry?? What happens when (due to bad luck, illness, depression, WHATEVS) we wake up one day and realize that we wouldn’t recognize a moment of joy if it jumped up and bit us on our flabby ass? I still fight with this today. I am using the tools I need, to free myself from it. As with everything........ it takes time.

NOONE can say that we are the person we were 10 or 20 years ago, I can honestly say that I do not even recognize the person that stares back at me from the mirror some days. But another part of it originates in my belief that some people's love for me has limits. Some may think I’m weird. Not weird and wacky and wonderful, just plain weird … in a way that makes them uncomfortable, a way that makes them want to smoosh the weirdness out of me. I admit - there are times when I have let them. I stopped sharing much about my life or my feelings.I stopped opening my mouth on topics that related to religion or politics or anything else I felt would be hacked apart. Why? Fed up with being insulted. Great depression and anxiety, all my sense of spiritual awakenness (thank you Oprah) feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness- well they are all Sandra's doing.

I try, at the very least to make half-hearted efforts, to live the life of my dreams as much as possible from where I am. I have felt such freedom since I hit 30. I dont know what it is - I cant explain it, I can't show you, or draw it for you or anything. I just feel it. And it flows. For me, this never ending process is nothing short of mystical and amazing. What a relief, to be washed clean of the past...allthe time that blocks true living. Yeah I did things and yeah other times I had things done to me. But absolutely no decision I have made was a "bad" one, because those are the lessons that have carried me to a better life. Period. Move On.

I share these thoughts because I need too. I let folks in and allow them to weaken me with their judgments; It got to the point where I had to say to myself, "Ok yeah it would be nice if everyone had a good opinion of me, but what IS it inside of me that STILL is making me feel as if I NEED acceptance???" I mean, it's not as if these people could shove their hands inside me and rearrange my emotion. I had to do that. I think Im doin pretty good. If I accept my choices and who I am becoming and feel good about them, then other peoples opinions mean nothing. 10 years ago, I couldnt even imagine myself feeling this way, let alone saying it.. sharing it. I am a mother, a wife, a sister, a daughter and totally embracing the woman I have become and continue to become. This whole struggle of an identity - Who are you really? Who will you become? Will you be ok with what you WONT be? What you WONT HAVE?  But Im not 21 anymore.

And you know...that's some good shit.

Blessings

Can Feminism Wait Until After The Brownies Are Done?

LOVE. IT. 

So do any of you feel like there is still so much you want to do and try in life and you’re really sure how to even start?

I've been feeling that way lately, there is so much I can do & honestly when you sit back & contemplate all the things you're good at, you'll be surprised at the multitude of talents you seriously possess. It's overwhelming at times to live in this brain of mine, because I have so much going on all at once - so many ideas and thoughts and things I want to try and do.  So how do you gather it all up and put it into practice? Well. It's what I'm thinking about the past few days.... 

Why is it that SAHM's have a problem admitting that we work at home, that we are stay at home moms?  I used to feel that way, when someone asked me what it is I do, I would freeze up and get nervous because I knew that there was no way of answering that question without getting some cocky shocked sort of look, of unsaid acknowledgment that what I was doing was insane, crazy, not normal, not right.  

Then I realized that I am one of a dying species, one of those still trying to hold on tight to simple things, to making sure that my home is still that safe haven where my family gathers at the end of a rough day, where you think of chicken soup and snuggies, of a soft candle glow or a fireplace blaring, homemade yummies, of simple times.  It's a HARD realization when it hits you, and when it did for me, it shot me into this roller coaster of emotions but most of all it completely slapped me in the face and made me realize that, I'm not abnormal, I'm not a weirdo, I am doing what I love, what I want to do for my husband and for my children and for MYSELF and THAT is the best feeling in the world. I have worked since I was 16. I've been in banks, and shipping companies, and retail stores and law offices and you know what? I hated it. I've sat behind desks, I've led teams, and I've bit my lip while being pushed around by punks no more than a year older than me on serious power trips. If anyone would have asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I can say with certainty - it was to be a wife and mother. It doesn’t make me a douche bag with no goals in life. I get how hard and upsetting it is for working moms and dads to get up and bring their children to a daycare all day and rush home the minute work is over to be with them. Believe me. I lived this. I did it and I understand. I get how hard it is to hear from a caretaker that your child did this and that and you didn’t get to witness it first. I’m not ignorant to what working moms and dads miss out on. But I work too. I work all ALL DAY LONG too. I am responsible for raising 3 human beings and sending them off into the world. More power to all the women in the world who choose and want to take over corporate America and prove to themselves and the planet that although they don’t have testicles, they can do and be more than any man in the world ever will. I applaud those women. I’m simply not one of them. It doesn’t mean I’m weak, it definitely doesn’t mean I let a man define me and my life and what I want. It means that what one person thinks is right for them - is not necessarily right for the other. You like what you like and there you have it. I like tofu. Not everyone else does and that’s ok. See? Good...

I've had conversations with people and heard that being at home instead of the workplace, means I'm succumbing to my husband, that I'm not my own woman, I have no identity... that I'm not independent....frankly all I can do to that is laugh, really hard and right in their faces. ANYONE who knows me knows that NOONE tells me what to do. No one makes up my mind for me and NOONE dictates to me. Some women allow that to happen, and that’s unfortunate & sad. I get that not everyone can be with their children all day and I don’t knock working mothers at ALL. I mean seriously. I just wish that working mothers wouldn’t look at the ones who have the ability to be home with their kids like they sport a 3rd eye or are some weak pathetic slave with no brain cells or path in life. I thoroughly enjoy making things from scratch. I enjoy taking the time to do a lot of things MYSELF. I have started 2 of my own business which makes me exceptionally happy, proud, fulfilled and allows me to be with my kids plus have a creative outlet that I would surely shrivel up and die if I didn’t have.

I could go on forever about this but I won’t. I guess my wish is for all stay at home moms to stop being grounded by what society thinks you should or shouldn't do, follow your heart and instincts and your wants and needs for YOUR family above others, and the sure thing is - you will find happiness. I was a total emotional mess with this in my 20's. As I grow I find that other people’s perceptions of me really don’t matter. I could honestly say that now. I resent that some select people think that I should want more for myself. I love my home; if you were to walk into it you would see so many handmade items, so many things that scream "cozy" & "family". Because it's who I am. I adore my family. I love every insane minute with them. I don't walk around my home with heaviness in my heart because being the best mother and wife in my family does wonders for the soul. When I was little I dreamt of a life I wished I had at that age. And I swore to myself that I was going to give my children EXACTLY what I wanted.

I’m doing just that.