It's like this...

Source: someecards.com via Heather on Pinterest

May is coming, and coming fast. I know it doesn't come more quickly than any other month, it just seems to me that time is flying past me at warp speed. Soon it will be June. School will be out. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Debido a la ultima post, que fue tan triste, cambiare' este post. No es que siento mas feliz, sino que se q' todo el mundo no quiere escuchar de mis tribulaciones. Hay bastantes, pero, pues.....hoy no. Here's an encapsulated-Readers-Digest-Version of why we were in Eastern Washington yesterday. Two days previously, Lance and I had attempted some 'Time Alone'. Apparently 'Time Alone' means we get where we're going( Leavenworth ), a pretty little Bavarian-esqu village over Steven's Pass, and our 'Time Alone' gets diverted into 'Whaddya-MEAN-BY-TRYING-TO-HAVE-ALONE-TIME?'. As we arrived, our suburban started sounding like a jet engine with a few bad parts. Plus, there was no oil pressure. 8 hours, $250 and...

I don't want to talk about Easter....or the Beach, although the beach cabin was soothing to my soul. I want to talk about honesty and about pain. I saw a friend, an acquaintance really, at the grocery store this morning. I'd stopped there after I'd rushed to the high school to deliver some pain meds to my girl. I called her name and said hi, she smiled and said hi. "How are you?", she said. "Fine", said I. I'm so far from fine I don't think I could find it in the dictionary if I tried. Why do we smile and say we're good when we are the furthest thing from it? Why do we lie? For lie it is---most often we aren't fine, we're not good or even fair. We're distressed and depressed and stressed and in heart wrenching agony, but we dress up our faces with false smiles and we present them to the world and we....lie. Perhaps because we've been told to stand up straight and smile so often by our elders. "If you can...

This was first published in 2004, but since I'm going through it again, I thought it appropriate to post again. And why, you may ask? It's because I have NEW Mutant Teenage Driver. Teenage Mutant Drivers 5.February.2004 I am a horrible driver. I’ve been doing it wrong for years and I had no idea. Although I have caused no accidents, nor participated in any collisions requiring bodywork or insurance agents, I am still Driving Impaired. The fact that I’ve never had a ticket doesn’t mean that I know what I’m doing either. How could I have gone for years and years thinking—nay believing that I was a safe and conscientious driver, you might ask? The answer is clear. I never had a teenager in my car with a Drivers Permit in her purse. Not only does she hold a legal document, entitling her to get behind the wheel of a car whilst one of her adult progenitors white-knuckles the dashboard, it appears that her license is also gives her…er, license to tell me every move I make is th...

Oh yeah. Really. I had a conversation with my sister-in-law this week. She was up from Texas and staying with us for about five days. As we sat in the living room, we chatted about cats (we both love them) and family (we love them too) and then she recounted something I'd done in the past---but had no memory of doing. Not really. She said that I'd not liked one of her cats when my children were little, because he would scratch them. I was puzzled---but then I realized that yes, I would not have appreciated a feline scratching my babies. I told her I was perhaps a bit uber protective of my offspring when they were toddlers. She sort of rolled her eyes as if to say, 'that's an understatement' Then she went on to tell me something else I'd done as an overprotective mommy. I didn't recall that episode either. Perhaps there are too many for me to recall? They all blurred together? My gray matter has run out of RAM and is therefore dumping memor...

None of those three things have anything to do with what I'm going to write about---well, except perhaps the cheesecake. Oh cheesecake. Why? Why do you have to be so yummy...so creamy...so guilt inducing. I have enough guilt and heartache in my life. I look for the joy I'm supposed to have and it often eludes me. Mostly due to the fact that I am unable to detach my life from those lives that surround me and the choices they make. There is a crater in my chest at times. Literally. It feels like an enormous empty hole. No, it's not empty. It's full of pain and sorrow. I never knew pain had a heft and a weight and could fill something that wasn't supposed to be filled by pain, but by joy. Eyes brim over with tears and then I do what I do best. I hide. See this? These guys were in a television show called Prison Break. I never watched it while it was on tv. I had more pressing things to do, I'm sure. However, with the arrival of Netfix in...

But it's all good. It's mostly for me. I used it for years as a cheap form of therapy and it was a lovely release of pent up emotions during the time when I had all four children in the throes of puberty, mendacity, diaper-changery, tantrumy, bellicosity, crashing our vehiculary, and many other assorted 'ertys'. Now that I'm older, though I often doubt the 'wiser' part has distilled upon my gray matter as promised, I find I often have horrid incidences from my past pop up in my mind as if to torture me anew. As if the first time my stupidity wasn't enough to force me sobbing into the fetal position-noooooooo. It comes back again and again and again. It's often said that we are our own harshest critics, and I believe this to be true. I'd never treat someone else the way I treat myself. And isn't that awful? Trust me, Simon Cowel has NOTHING on me. Once upon a time while in college, a young man that I thought I fancied, invited ...