moe-tif

He loved her, it seemed he always had.  She never knew, at least he didn’t think so…he kept his feelings to himself.  He wasn’t unattractive, but he was very shy and he doubted himself, so he loved her quietly.  They went to school together, since they were kids.  In fact, when they were little they had been friends.  Time passed and as things go, she moved off to a different, more confident circle, he moved into his books, into his art.  He never forgot her, his love was as much a part of him as breathing, a feeling he secretly conveyed with no hope of return.  And then, one day, it happened…so simple a thing, yet so profound.  Walking through a wooded area, heading home from school, he happened upon her, sitting on a rock, looking over a valley.  The fall season had produced a vast array of colors that, if one slowed down and took notice, would take one’s breath away.  His approach caught her attention and for a moment, they held each other’s gaze.  That moment contained all the words he could never muster and for her, convinced her of a suspicion she had held but never asked him to clear up.  She smiled and invited him to sit with her.  He did and for a long while, they looked out over a valley of autumn colors, quietly in each other’s presence.  It was in this peace that he realized what she had held deep in her heart.  It seemed, she loved him too…..and so began their love story….simple, quiet and sure….this love story would last and would later be shared with children, grandchildren.  What was so special here?  Nothing other than there were never games played, there were never lies told.  While there were moments of pain and hardship, doubts and fears, these times could never outweigh their joy, the bliss they found in each other.  There was mutual respect and trust and proof positive that if these two could find each other and share such a deep love, so can we all.    

i’m sad today…melancholy…not sure how to snap out of it other than to ride on thru it and hope that i feel different tomorrow…i used to take medication that would control these moments….mostly i get angry..spurts of anger that make me want to break things, not very good when one has children…so, medication was a nice release…but, shortlived…i’m not so angry anymore but, damn…i get hit with such sadness..it’s all i can do to get out of bed…why am i so sad?

…and cornucopia, plethora, conniption, lazy summer afternoon, lakeside, wine tasting, ambiance, slow groove, slow lovemaking……

respect, appreciation, focus, reflection, compassion, patience, determination, serenity, wisdom, sage, fearless, strength, perseverence, honesty, joy, peace, calm, mountain, ocean, water, tree, eyes rest upon, mystery, quantum physics, infinity, affinity, commonality, search, discover, free, free yourself, there is work to be done, this is a good day, this is a sign, yinyang, welcome home, come in, rest, be….etc……

love of family, love of self, love, love, love, love, love, love…………………………………………………………………..

The sun is a star that can’t wait for the night.
The moon is his lover left behind.
The clouds shield her tears when she starts to cry,
as she grieves for the love she does not find.
He loves her still, but will not stay.
He must leave her and go to light the day.
He shines his light upon her face
but she mourns him still for he is
faraway.
A day does come when they are together as one.
Eclipse for a moment,
then the moment is done.
By and by, the lovers depart
To shine their lights with
broken hearts.

Here I am again, writing…I had a whole different topic in mind but, I’ve decided to write about what is happening right now with my kids…my oldest is with friends, pretty soon I’m going to go pick them up and take them to a cheer clinic put on at the high school.  She’s 11.  She says that she hates cheerleaders and that she’s no “girly girl”.  Yeah, that’s why every single hair product I own is in her bathroom and more than once I’ve made  her go back to the house to wash my makeup off her face.  The two year old is asleep…thank you Lord…she was so grumpy she was literally screaming at the top of her lungs yet, everytime I tried to meet her demands it wasn’t what she wanted.  This told me she was simply tired and a nap was in order.  Again, thank God…my ears are still ringing.  Now, the three year old…she is concerning me at this moment.  I have this distinct feeling that as soon as I post this thing and go check on her, I’m not going to be very happy with what she’s doing.  I’m not looking forward to what I may find so, I’m distracting myself by writing.  She keeps running in here, saying crazy things like, “how are you” and “i love you mommy” and “i’m watching t.v., really i am”….aargh….never a dull moment…..

and later….

Does anyone remember Cosby’s stand up comedy routine?  There was a part in which he talks about a ladder built by one of his children.  I listened to that skit and laughed so hard…what a visual.  This was years ago.  Little did I know that what I saw in my mind’s eye would transpire in my own kitchen.  Jada, the 3 year old, wanted the sugar.  But the sugar is up high.  Hmmm, what to do, what to do…ahhh, build a ladder!  Who cares if OSHA would come in and write her up for breaking every safety law in the books, the ladder is needed if one is to reach that sweet yummy sugar Mommie keeps way up high in the highest cupboard in the kitchen!  So she runs thru the house looking for building materials…periodically checking up on Mom who is busy busy at the computer writing.  OK, Mommie is distracted, the building can commence.  The materials are as follows:  Pizza oven box, unopened and very sturdy, the stool used to sit on when playing tiny yet annoyingly loud piano, couple of books and finally, the child can climb onto the counter top whereupon she reaches up and…finds the sugar.  Indiana Jones ain’t got nothing on my kid…so, I finish my last entry and, with my breath held in nervous anticipation I go to the kitchen and find all the evidence I need to put her away for a long time.  She’s sneaky but, she’s also three and the connection between scheming to do a forbidden thing and then cleaning up the aftermath hasn’t quite been made in her developing mind.  Luckily for me, she’s easily distracted.  And, here’s the list of incriminating findings:  there’s the makeshift ladder and the sugar container…from that high place in the cupboard brought down to the countertop.  What’s more, there’s spilled sugar on my counter, invitation to ants eagerly waiting somewhere to invade my home.  I make my way to the living room and find the culprit, standing in front of the t.v., oblivious to my presence and licking her fingers clean…softly I say to her, “just what do you think you are doing?”.  She looks at me and says, “My stomach hurts”.  I know where this is going, and I go anyway.  I ask her, “and you think the sugar is going to stop the pain?”  “Yes!” she says, seriously thinking I’m going to be swayed by this defense.  What would a jury think?  Would they buy her story?  I think not…however, it is really hard to ignore the eyes begging me to consider her plight, the head shaking up and down and her little hand on her tummy, rubbing it as though she really is in severe pain. 

I’m a pushover.  And, I’ve got sugar to clean up….

My two year old screams as I turn on the vacuum.  No, she’s not afraid of it, she’s trying to entice me to play, chase her with it.  She runs off hoping I’ll follow but I don’t, I’ve got to clean up, straighten the house, got to “get her done”.  Since when is play so unimportant?  We have it in our heads that we must succeed, we must work, work, work, we must make more, more, more.  Nevermind those moments that speak to that which is spiritual within us.  Nevermind getting down on your knees and having heart to heart conversations with a toddler who is very animated about what she is saying and, although you can only make out every other third word, you know it means everything to her that you are taking the time.  Nevermind chasing your two year old as she screams thru the house while the clothes aren’t folded and the dishes aren’t done…no more nevermind!  My friend Yvonne has this play thing down…she will do cartwheels and jump around with the kids and they love it!  There’s something so healthy and natural about it that I realize how unnatural we have let ourselves become.  While making the green is important to keeping a roof over our heads and food on the table, I think it’s more important to take time out and actually play…our happiness is not linked to our working lives but rather to the child inside who just wants to come out and play.

i wish there were more choices of font offered on this blog…although, who am i to complain, it’s not costing me anything…but, a little garamond or bookman antiqua would be nice…lucida sans serif is cool too…

i’m just wasting time right now while i wait for two toddlers to scream out that they are done on the toilet, one is using the guest bathroom, the other is using mine…the noise is unbelievable…the two year old keeps yelling caca…so, apparently that is her goal…she first yelled pee pee…i think she has a need to tell me everything she is going to do…i hope she grows out of that…the three year old will yell incessantly that she is done yet, when i run in there…she suddenly has more to do…i really look forward to the day where i do not play such an integral part of this whole ritual….can you tell i’m not writing this all at once?  i’ve been up now at least 6 times to see to these little crumb chasers…the two year old is insisting she wipe herself…i would gladly give up that chore, however, she will use up an entire roll of toilet paper in the span of 3.45 seconds…then, i will wander into the bathroom only to find the toilet overflowing with no end in sight….ok….the ordeal is over, at least for a couple more hours…

i’m back…i just found my two year old stuffing cotton balls in her mouth…when she saw me approach she picked up speed…what the hell…i’m so confused…what is so yummy about a cotton ball…so, i tell her to open her mouth and she clamps it shut…lockjaw on a two year old is almost impossible to pry open but, there is hope…i held her nose…she is stubborn, turned a blue gray before she gave in…

i am now going to pour myself a glass of wine…my first of many…these kids are driving me to drink…

So, there’s this person I’ve never met, yet I he’s let me/us get into his head.  He’s so very interesting and more than a few of us tune in to see what next he’ll come up with.  Yet, while at the same time he is so captivating a read…he’s also suffering from depression and it really pisses me off.  Not in his direction, no…I’m pissed off that his time is wasted dealing with demons that don’t exist yet they’ve got him by the throat and they fucking rule his world…it is so frustrating to read his work and then wait for him to come out of his darkness before he writes again…keep in mind I’ve never met this cat but, he’s somehow crept into a place where folks care how he is and what he’s going to say…I respect good writing…I also respect/honor when a person opens his world to you…anonymous or not, this takes just a bit of courage…I just wish it was enough to rid this man of whatever ails him so that he’s not just sharing his world on a blog…he’s also happily living his dreams in the real world….I don’t know enough about depression to make a judgement that is valid, but…I wish I could tell him to snap out of it already…and I wish those mere words were enough to cause him to shake his head, smile, and keep on writing his way out of the darkness…