Someday

Is it silly to weep over this? To wonder if I missed my chance? To dream of finding some connection like this, even now?

But I'm not unhappy alone...  I'm not. I don't want to be tied down, to compromise, make room for and be flexible with... I don't want to share my space, my kids, my life... But still, it's human nature to want love, connection, to want to find that perfect soul mate who just "gets" you without trying.  Or maybe it's just MY nature to want that.

This Jess Penner song is the theme to the wedding video of a friend of mine who married for the second time at age 40.  She is crazy cornball goofy in love with a man who is crazy cornball goofy in love with her. They were together long enough to maturely decide that this marriage thing was exactly right for them. They are smart, intelligent, thoughtful people.  But also total goofy cornballs.  Their life is by no means easy - a blended family with teens, jobs, sports, their own individual jobs and extra curricular activities... but there is such respect and support for each other, such joyful accommodation of each others whims, such genuine interest in each other, that it stings a little, this emptiness of mine.

I wish them so much joy.  I know they deserve it.  Can I wish joy for myself as well?

Prompt: Does Art Have Power to Cause Change OR Is It Just Pretty To Look At

prompt from English I
9/16/13

Does Art Have Power to Cause Change:

This past weekend, in some random unmemorable way, the topic of orgasms came up while myself and my two teens were hanging out.

My 17 yo son said, "mom, I really don't think we should discuss this in front of Bear!" and I replied, "Buddy, she is almost 16, I'm pretty certain she knows what an orgasm is!"

Well, much conversation ensued in which I discovered that my almost 16 year old daughter does not, indeed, know what an orgasm is and based on my 17 year olds description, when told he could explain, I'm not so sure that even HE knows what one is.  I did not elaborate however, and as is common, other topics came up and orgasms were soon forgotten.

Stay with me... this will relate to art...

Moments later while my son was going on and on and describing the absolute deliciousness of his smoothie, my daughter innocently asked him, "Does it give you hot 'organisms'?"  Lord, I admit, I pee'd my pants a little I laughed so hard. They laughed and I laughed and we all laughed til our sides ached and we were gasping for breath and weak with our own love for each other.

This? This is art: the creation of funny, innocent, smart, creative and joyful kids.  This is art: the love and laughter in a broken family.  This is art: the power of joy and kindness and humor and love, and yes - it CAN change the world.

Furry Happy Monsters

Late Night Phone Call

She calls when I am just 15 minutes into the show.  It used to be our show.  We would wait all week for Thursday nights, planning for it with excited giggles and imagined events.  When Thursday finally arrived, you would find us gathering snacks and blankets and fluffing up pillows, and then we would take over the couch and the remote control.  I love that she calls right at the moment I have queued up an old rerun of our old show.  It’s karmic. I hope.

I hit pause and answer the phone to hear her wild burst of laughter.  Laughter or hysterical crying? I’m not sure until I hear her voice saying, “Hi mom!”  My brief moment of concern is washed away and replaced by joy.

She tells me that her friends were all just laughing at something funny, reminiscing about their first words as babies.  A topic brought up by my face-book post of her baby brothers first word spoken just that day.  What was her first word? Oh, a four letter word referencing bowel elimination.  Yup.  That sent her off into more giggles and I could hear her friends in the background laughing along with her. They are not surprised, it is apparently still her word of choice, I hear them saying in the background.

It is good to laugh with her.  It is good to be on the phone with her, laughing.  She is my delight but things have been strained lately.  My life and choices, her life and choices, are  all at odds with each other and it’s been hard to find the closeness, the love, the fun, the groove of our hearts beating together as they once did.

We chat some and I avoid anything too tense.  I've written her a letter and she hasn't received it yet so I’ll save the tense stuff for later, tonight I want to just enjoy the laughter.

When we hang up, I start up the show again.  It’s lonelier now, watching this show without her here.  My bowl of snacks and my icy beverage aren't as good, un-shared as they are.  The show isn't as suspenseful without the whispered premonitions and our running commentary.  The theme song at the end makes me weepy and melodramatic.  I laugh at myself a little, do the dishes, and tuck myself into bed.  My daughter, 3000 miles and two time zones away from me is just getting into the groove of her night.  All is as it should be I suppose.   

My Only Hope

A Day Off

Cut yourself some slack, they say.
Give yourself a break, they say.

So today I had cake for breakfast.

And I made the baby laugh so hard that he fell down right on his padded little bottom. And then I laughed right along with him, both of us laying on the floor giggling to each other.  There is incredible peace when you look deep in the eyes of a laughing baby.  I think I saw a glimpse of God.

For the first time ever, I "smudged" my house.

And myself.

I breathed in the smoky trails of sage and thought about peace, and safety, and protection.  I breathed out that peace too.  I wafted the sweet smoke over the living room where we gather to play, onto the dishes we eat from, over my son's bed where he sleeps and grows and dreams, and all around the door so that peace will wash over those who enter, and those who leave.  I gave myself a break.

And I cut myself some slack, refusing to feel guilty for still being in my pajamas at lunchtime.

But I also got some clutter cleared.  Papers filed, phone calls made, appointments set.  And it felt... peaceful.

For this moment, I refuse to feel pain.  I will not acknowledge sorrow, frustration, loss, grief, anger, or self loathing for this moment in time.  Maybe it will be just one moment, maybe a whole hour.  Maybe I can get the whole day in... but I won't worry about that right now.

For now, I will just focus on these single moments of laughing into my baby's eyes, breathing in smoky sage, the taste of frosting on my tongue, and the feeling of power in taking a day off from everything else.

Surfing the Waves

Lately life has felt like I'm a wee bit of driftwood caught up in some never ending storm.

I know there is solid ground out there.
I know there is blue sky hidden by the black clouds.
I know that calm waters are just outside the next rolling wave.
But I'm getting weary, and more than a little seasick.

I can't really remember where I came from, where I was, all warm and basking in the sun on a beach, when the storm snuck up and swept me away.  I don't know where I'm going to end up when this storm is over either.  Some other beach? A deserted island? or just adrift, forever, in this vast ocean?

Forgetting the metaphor and just being frank (who wouldn't want to be Frank? ba da dum!) I was feeling a bit like I was getting my life together.  I was moving forward, onward, facing fears and being brave and stepping out in faith to reclaim my life.  I made big changes and while things weren't perfect, I was feeling a sense of confidence and hope and optimism.  I felt peace. And then, not.

Well of course that's the problem isn't it? Once you are feeling grounded, something swirly happens to unbalance you and it's all about seeing HOW you  manage the swirly bits.  That's what character is right? What you do when the shit hits the fan; how you behave when no one is looking; the ways you manage when you fall in hot water... my character is seriously lacking!

A friend of mine has this huge network of support.  Friends, family, co-workers.  When times are tough there are backyard barbecue's, fire pit marshmallow roasts, childcare offers, supportive emails and phone calls, heck, even neighbors drop in.  I guess you reap what you sow - and I guess I haven't sown much.  That's pretty pathetic really, and another sign of my character (or lack thereof).  Not to say I don't have friends because, I do. Really.  Real ones!  One's that offer tea and wine and silly text messages to cheer me up.  Friends who shout "Yay!" and "You Go Girl!".  Friends who are only an email or text message away.  I know I'm lucky, fortunate, and blessed but I can't help but feel that I should have sown more, given more, reached out more.  Ok, it's entirely possible that I'm wallowing in self pity right now... possible, even likely... ok so more than likely, let's just call it out - I am wallowing in Self-Pity.  It's unattractive, I know... I'll stop now.

When my kids whine or have pity parties, I get annoyed. I tell them to quit.  I redirect them.  I think I'll have to do a little tough love on myself!  I think I'll have to take a deeper breath, recenter myself, and hold onto my surfboard for a bit more wave-surfing in this storm.  I know it will end, storms always do... so it's just about holding on a little longer.  I can.  I know I can.  I bet I'll come out of this a pretty darn good surfer!

So, here's to sunshine behind clouds, solid ground under the waves, blue sky above me, and better surfing skills... Cheers!

Looking for an Angel