Thursday, November 26, 2020


When your house has sold, and the last bit of your belongings have been thrown into the back of your truck... call me, and let me hear your voice nearly a thousand miles away but familiar in my ear.

Call me and give me one weekend.

One weekend to say our peace, change our minds, remove my rose colored glasses, to place my hand on your chest and know what your heart says.

Call me.

Wednesday, November 25, 2020

Artificial Sweetener.

 Re-read, re-write, re-do, undo...

There's a lot of static in my head currently, but something empowering has been the realization that I'm so grateful. Like, overwhelmingly so, just regarding my life in general.

I can look in the mirror and see where my skin has stretched and pulled and begged for relief from three pregnancies. I remember before kids I'd gag at my "rolls" and make the ex-husband swear to put me out of my misery if I ever crossed over the 200 pound line. I gained 60 pounds with my first kid. I lost, gained, lost and gained some more and I'm still slightly over that line and you know what? I'm not miserable. I'm not so out of shape that I can't chase Little in heels across two yards, or that I can't channel my inner cheerleader wannabe self from 8th grade and do a high kick to freak my oldest out. I can still run, do yoga and shave my own legs without getting short of breath. 

I can tell you which stretch marks belong to which pregnancy. 

I can barely reach with the tips of my fingers, the scars that dot my back from skin cancer surgery from 5th grade. 

I can spot acne scars from a mirror across the room, but I also know that my incessant nervous picking during 10 years of being married to the wrong person didn't help that. 

I like to flex the muscles of my legs in awe that they carried myself and three big babies through 27 long months of pregnancy as well as two hands full of finish lines. 

These poor rough feet look amazing in heels, but tell a story of a woman who walks miles upon miles each day to provide for her children.

The small calloused hands also speak volumes of a woman who does things for herself before she'll ever ask for help.

The lines around my eyes tell of happy laughter, my arms the most welcoming hug, and this chest has been a resting spot for many babies and will be for more babies (hopefully grand babies, nieces and nephews) in the future.

This body is nothing short of miraculous, and I am so grateful for every inch of it.

If you could read my lab work you would see that I work hard to keep all my numbers in the right places. That despite my size, I'm probably healthier and more proactive about my health and the genetic issues that keep me up at night than your best friend or neighbor. I've got my vices, but I also make most decisions out of moderation and physical need.

It's not that I want to outlive all of you, it's that I want to live to see all of you, my children, their children, my partner if that ever happens again... I want to see you all live happy, healthy lives. I still have so much to experience and so much life to enjoy.

I know that if I were to pass tomorrow of some unforeseen tragedy, I know that I will have still lived a life worth writing about. I know that my kids will know how much I loved them. I know that there will be good stories to tell at my wake. I'm not ready for that yet. I still have so much love and life in me aching to come out.

Take care of yourselves. Look in the mirror and remember how amazing that reflection is, and be grateful that this body has worked so hard to get you to where you are today and how much life you still need it for. Take care of YOU. Love YOURSELF. You and your body will be stuck WITH you for the rest of YOUR life. Show it some compassion and gratitude for how far you've come.

Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Weekend Summary.

Friday night exploded with anticipation until the main event arrived. He was already taken. As in, they live together. He needed a "breath of fresh air." He enjoyed the excitement and flirtation. He was taken.

Saturday night was a reminder of everything I'd already experienced. The thrill of the chase, the awe of the other human and all of their adventuring and wanting the passion that made those adventures so intense, the exhaustion of being unable to catch up mentally... I pride myself on being literate, appreciating the arts and flexing my fingers at the keyboard. I'm not a master of any of these things, nor am I able to quote much of anything outside of music lyrics at the drop of a hat.

Both nights I was countered with great conversation and handsome companions. Both nights I enjoyed myself. Both nights took me way outside of my comfort zone.

I know that to "grow" and stretch ourselves as humans, we need to push past those comfort zones. However, for the first time in nearly 3 years I felt the itch to medicate because I was terribly nervous and borderline panicky. I don't think I'm ready for companions unless they're mutually frisky with no strings, no current partners (ahem), and just want to be friends. I need friends, maybe that's where the anxiety crept in. I didn't want to come off as desperate but I didn't want to come off as the most boring human in the world.

I lay things flat out on the table to scare the weaklings off. I have a kid with learning differences. I have a kid with a heart condition. I have a child genius who overthinks and sends themselves over the edge. A lot. I love me, flaws and all. I love my cats. I am OBSESSED with my kids in an almost unhealthy way (IF you were to ask them.) I loved traveling, but it will be a minute before that ever happens again. I love to write, but I'm not the greatest at staying on topic. Music speaks to my soul. God made no mistakes, and I believe he is very real. I can't look at my kids and NOT believe in God. I've spent the past 14 years raising kids, humor me. Flatter me. Be honest and kind with me.

Probably the most awkward moment of the entire weekend was not so much ripping the proverbial bandaid off in front of my ex-husband and his wife while disciplining the oldest for his grades, but having to give middle the run down of how my dates went... in front of the ex. She asked how my Friday date went and I told her he already had a girlfriend, "LIKE, HE WAS ALREADY DATING SOMEONE AND STILL MET UP WITH YOU??!?" Yes, child. Much like a scenario we've already explained REGARDING THE OTHER PRESENT ADULTS sitting ON THE COUCH watching us with big awkward eyes. Yes. Like that. But we're friends and I'm over it, because I mean... dammit. This is the story of my life. "Was Saturday better?" Yes! Infinitely as far as availability went. Only he too, like a recent love of mine, needs to be in the thick of all the things and constantly be on the go. His stories were incredible though. 

"You're a house cat, mom."

Yes child, I am.

Sunday, November 22, 2020

Shorting Myself.

I made myself smaller for you.

Compartmentalizing every bit of "me" because I heard the words you used, laughing at others who are like me. The artists. The lovers. Those who would rather love themselves and spread their wings than be rooted to a passionless life.

I stopped dancing... singing... writing... dreaming.

I didn't want you to stop being you; I wanted to stop being the "me" you wanted me to be.

Saturday, November 21, 2020

Big Distraction Pt. 1

We're reading on my loveseat. Our shoes a scattered heap beneath us and my feet are tucked in behind  you. My dress leaves my legs exposed and you periodically run your hands down my shins to warm them up. The sun has start to set behind the buildings leaving the sun room darker and darker until we can no longer stand to strain our eyes to see. Pushing my glasses up over my hairline, I place my book down beneath the arch of my legs and stop your hand as it slides down my shin again.

You place your book on the arm of the chair and turn towards me, both of your hands wrap behind my knees and pull me closer to you. Whispers of actions not yet passed leave your mouth and heat my ears as my telltale flush creeps down from my ears, cheeks and my chest. My hands rest on your lower back as  you lean into me.

Satchmo croons lightly in the background, the brash brassiness of the horns brings us back to the moment. You scoop me up into your arms, my legs around your waist. We sway some to "La Vie en Rose" before we land backwards back on the loveseat, we laugh as we untangled ourselves from the heap we'd created. You reaches over and push some of the hair back off my face back into my ponytail and pull my face towards yours.

Friday, November 20, 2020

Things that hurt my heart volume 1.

The sound of my son sobbing because he doesn’t agree with me about my views on violence/bullying. He feels that if he is getting pushed around he should react with more force than they are giving. I feel he should protect himself, yes, but that violence should NEVER beget violence. I believe he should protect himself and walk away wiser than when they began.

He believes that if he’s being mugged he should fight back with intention to harm. I believe he should hand over his wallet, strip naked if he has to, but to get out alive.

That’s all living is, getting out alive. I don’t want his heart to burn like coal angry and hot and ready to bleed. I want him to focus more on loving and living.

There’s never a good enough reason to harm or hurt. Ever. Protecting yourself to get out alive, yes. Protecting yourself but believing an eye for an eye? No. Never.

Karma sorts shit out and God is the ultimate judge.

Thursday, November 19, 2020

The "Show Me" State of Mind.

I don't need you.

I want you.

I want your hands to remind me of what they used to do to me.

I want your mouth to tell mine everything you can't say out loud.

I want your eyes to read me like a book you can't put down.

I don't need you.

I want to watch your body change the minute you see me, like it remembers what it felt like when I would curl into it at night while my hand whispered secrets into yours.

I don't need you, but I want you to show me how much you want me.

I don't need you, but I want to fit like the missing puzzle piece of your heart.