I am afraid what may come out...

I haven't written in a while, but for good reason. Been busy. And, even though it doesn't ever take hours to jot down a few thoughts and feelings, I feel that if I were to write it wouldn't be nice. I was able to take the bf down to Dallas to meet some of my good friends, and he and I had a great time. It was nice to see friends that I don't get to often. I am blessed to have friends that open up their hearts and lives to me and him.
I did get to attend my first ever trebuchet event. One word...interesting. I mean, the nerdiest of the nerdiest make these ginormous contraptions that end up throwing 10-15 pound pumpkins around 230 feet. Pretty impressive. I do not even being to have the engineering ability to build something like that. I was amused.
But alas...back at home, and enjoying the down time that has been an emotional roller coaster for the last month. Perhaps it is all self-inflicted, but it has been a ride. Not all good, not all bad. I am eagerly looking forward to the next few weeks in my life. I am blessed beyond measure, and am thankful for the time I have spent and will spend with friends and family.
I guess, before I do say something highly inappropriate on what is "my blog" I will pray and contemplate a little more so as to not fall into a self-dug hole.

Comments

Tiger must stay in your backpack...

I'm not that parent. The one who gloats too much, and shows off all the pictures. The parent who relays every detail of their kid to let others know how incredible I think they are. Perhaps it is a flaw. Who knows. And I also pride myself in not being a helicopter parent. I teach and let go. I discipline and let go. And I thought I would be ready for this: first day of Pre-K. I have been very positive and uplifting and have wanted my son to be extra ready to go to school. We have talked about it for months! I am ready... Or so I thought. This morning, as white boy was leaving to take them to daycare, he said to Owen, "You can't take Tiger to school tomorrow or he will have to stay in your backpack, so do you want to take him to daycare today?" I thought little of it, but as Owen threw him down on the ground and turned to head out the door, my throat hitched. "Are you sure you don't want to take him today?" He said no. It was a sense of finality. ...

60 years ago is not the 1940s

When you are born, you are lucky to get one day a year to celebrate just you. Well, you and all the others born on that day. When you become a mother or father, you get another day for just you. Sometimes those days come when you are not ready, and some come when you wish they wouldn't. Today, 60 years ago, my mother was born. A date that means littler to most people I know than to her or me. As we age, and my mother is no different, our birthdays become just another cycle of the rising of the sun and a following of the moon. Nothing to make a big to do of. My mother enjoys subtly. She can be dramatic but embraces the subtle acknowledgement of herself. She has ALWAYS placed herself second and counted the accolades of her children as if they were her own. That was one thing my mother NEVER lacked: humility. Which made me often sad she didn't get more than 2 days a year commemorating her. Mom, I know I've come short. I know that I have openly and often faile...

A goodbye love letter to you...

I sat across from my dad at lunch, yesterday, and asked him, "Do you know what tomorrow is?" He said, "Yeah. 1 year." And his eyes grew damp. "I'll never forget walking into that room..." He didn't continue. I didn't ask him to. "I'll never forget the police officer banging on my door at 1130 at night..." I didn't continue. He didn't ask me to. "This journal was given to me several years ago by my children. I know they wanted me to write down my thoughts to get through the rough times I was going through at the time. I did not start this at that time. Why am I starting it now? Well, I only thought I had been through hell back then, but now I realize I didn't have any idea what heartache was until Aug 15, 2010 -" This is the beginning of one of my mother's journals. A journal she started a little over a month after Andy died. And she wrote it--to him. "Dear Mother - Today is the day before Mothe...

"Getting older's not been on my plans"

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