New, Not Borrowed, and Not too Blue ;)

I have something for you, the... five... six?... people who come here. I am making you a playlist. To know me, you have to KNOW me. And I warn you- I am a contradiction on every front, which some of you know, and some of you need to know, if you want to "GET IT". Isn't that everyone's deal? "GETTING IT"? Whatever "IT" is? So, I'll let you in on the deep, dark secrets, piece by piece, song by song, thought by thought, as we go. It may be offensive- my tunes are not censored, and some are absolutely not kid friendly. Same as my thoughts :) Same as some pieces of me. But to really have the inner workings of the mismatched, up and down, back and forths of me, it is what it is. I don't listen to, read, watch, take part in, anything that doesn't speak to me on some level. and it's deep, if you look past the damns, hells and others that make up some of it. If you don't, if it offends... well, I'm not you. You aren't me. And maybe you aren't meant to piece my story together. I am open minded and liberal to the point of painting a damn rainbow on my walls to prove a point. i believe in love and freedom and have no tolerance for pushing belief, and am good with what I know and have faith in regarding my relationship with God. He loves everyone, you know? He made us all, after all. But I digress- shockingly, LOL. So, for now, where words are truly failing (and focusing on new novels) I give you this instead....

Perfectly Obvious

I had a really good weekend. You know by now that I am always going to tell you about those moments, those “aha!” times... and whether I learn for a minute or a day, or maybe-hopefully- a lifetime, I'm going to relish every one of them. I had a lot of them this weekend. A lot of them the last couple weeks, I suppose, but the best ones came from this weekend. For the first time in a long time, I really appreciated and paid attention to what was going on around me- the little things, the big ones... and I am so thankful for the people who remind me, daily, to be grateful, humble, and to hold onto all I do have with all that I've got.

I spent Saturday morning with some of the women in my family, and it was the most amazing experience. We had a Mother-Daughter brunch at my mother-in-law and sister-in- law's church, and my mother-in-law was the speaker. She truly does have a gift with words, written and spoken. Not just a talent, which she has more than I could hope for, but a GIFT. She speaks from her very soul, and there wasn't a woman in that room who wasn't touched... because she was speaking to us. Reminding us that we are loved, blessed, important. That we are never alone, our shoulders should never slump, heads should never be down. She reminded us how important we all are- each of us unique, with gifts and talents of our own. And she reminded me that there is peace in faith.

I have a hard time with that- with having that unshakable knowing that even my most well kept secrets are not just mine to keep, to know. That I am not the only one who sees and knows my heart, my soul, my reasons and reactions. I have a hard time with that, with that absolute. I struggle with faith, with God and I really shouldn't- I have seen plenty of miracles, been given plenty of signs. I don't doubt He is there. I wonder how He could be there for me, that's all. And I envy that absolute- knowing you are never alone, your walk is never solitary. I question everything, it's part of who I am. I analyze, think, wonder, and do it all again. I could probably analyze myself to death over things... but maybe that's part of that being unique thing?

I walked out of there with a better sense of who my family is, where my husband came from, and how amazing it is really belonging. I belong to these people, and they belong to me. And that honestly is through the grace of God- there is nothing else that could have kept us together. But to know that? To really see that? It nearly knocked me down- I really belong with them. I'm theirs, they're mine... for the kid who never fit, the woman who skirted the outside of the line because of this, this or that? That was my gift this Mother's Day. They gave it back, what I've been missing, questioning, chasing. It really was right there in front of me- I just had to knock some old walls down to see it. Or rather, the walls were knocked down for me, which is sometimes even better. I have a new sense of myself, my faith, and my worth. As a woman, a mother, a wife, a daughter, sister, lover, friend... this weekend gave it back to me. In pieces, in words and gestures, I started to feel a little more peace, a little more me. That finding and holding onto me thing is a killer, you know? But finding me comes from the mountains as well as the valleys, and knowing what matters and what doesn't. And knowing that it isn't always peaceful or easy... there are hard questions, awful moments, and difficult choices and decisions. But that doesn't change the core, the base, that foundation. Unless I let it. The only thing really shaking the tree is me- no one can make it or break it, but my emotions and reactions sure can.

There was one thing said over this entire weekend that immediately opened up a part of me that I'd thought I would never see again. It wasn't said to me, and no one but me probably even remembers it being said. I haven't shared it, and I won't, but that one statement shook loose a lot of cobwebs, and THAT was when my shoulders relaxed, my head popped up, and had you looked closely enough, that was my moment. Over everything else, that was my moment. Everything else was able to really sink in and take hold because of it. And the best part was it didn't give me any glee, it didn't give me that sense of satisfaction that it would have before.. it just was, because it was true in the real sense of things. And acknowledgment does a lot. And even when it isn't said out loud, actions tell you a lot as well.

It isn't about being right, being better, being above- I've said it before. It's just about being, knowing your limits, seeing your strengths and your weaknesses equally. Without patting yourself on the back, or berating yourself. It is what it is, and every day is new, every day is a chance to begin something else, learn something new...

You can't change others, but you can change yourself. Reactions again. I'm going to keep my heart as open as my eyes, and see what is rather than what isn't. There is no what if, there is no might have been, or could be... this is what is. And I've been missing it, hiding from it, pushing it away because of what was. I'm just going to trust, in myself and in the people I love. The only walls I want are the ones against the negative- there's way too much of that in the world, and letting go, being rid of it, is hard. But it eats away at everything that counts. That's what is so hard to remember sometimes- we focus so much on one negative, one jab, one thing that chips away at all the good we really do have. It takes away from the significant. I'm not doing that anymore- I owe too much to the people who love me, the people I have and am building this life and these memories with, to allow anything to stand in the way of it. There has been too much hurt, too many moments that would have been perfect but for... It's such a waste. I don't want to waste the time I've got, and I'm not going to anymore. Emotions have a trickle effect, and why should any of us allow all the outside bs to trickle in, change our moments, days or lives? Because it's meant to? Because it's pointed? Who cares? That isn't on me, that's only for me to recognize and react to. That's where my choice lies. And it's easy to get worked up, angry, worried... but why, when it's obviously the point? Especially when it's obviously the point? And even more so, when it doesn't matter to anyone else? That's what I needed to see, I think- I wasn't the only one seeing it. I was just the only one reacting.

Like I said, it was a good weekend. I had a lot of conversations, a lot of lessons, and the main lightbulb moments I needed, from the people I needed them from most. The strongest tie in the world is love. I belong with the people I have, and they belong with me. The rest of it doesn't hold weight or power over me unless I choose to allow that. And why should I, when no one else is? Does that mean all the negative will magically disappear? Of course not. Does it mean things won't touch a nerve, cause an annoyance? Nope. But it does mean that I'm not allowing it into my day, or into our lives, to make a major out of a minor. It does mean that I can see some things as almost routine- because it really is obvious- and just go on. I choose to be transparent and enjoy my life with good people and good times, not to be transparent and enjoy my life by being negative or spiteful. That's my choice. What's yours?

Words

Another essay of sorts I had in my Writing folder.

She wonders what it would be like. She thinks now how odd of her it was that she never really did before. Maybe it's because there never was a before. Not really, anyway. Not if she's honest with herself- and that she can be, even when she can't be with anyone else. When... anyone else... can't be with her. She wonders if they are to themselves. For the most part, she doubts it. Once you become that good at hiding the truths that will cut you, they don't even reach you anymore. She almost envies that, the ability to rewrite history, to change time in your own mind so that you feel no guilt, no tug, no obligation. She supposes she's done it, a little, at times. Changed things around, rearranged some words, some meanings, to suit the way she sees the past. Maybe that pulls her through when she looks back to the time that never really was before.

The wondering is what makes it hard, now. She sees pieces these days, of the people they once were, and it tugs at her in ways she wishes, almost more than anything, that it didn't. It stabilizes her and pushes her off balance at the same time. She smiles, thinking how little sense that makes, and then smiles a little wider. Fits right in then.

It comes out of nowhere these days, and hits her like a punch in the stomach. She doesn't know what to do with it, honestly. It leaves her helpless in a way that next to nothing could, and the emotion that comes from knowing that is almost unbearable to her. That's her pride making a loud protest, and she welcomes its voice- it's still there, and that's one for the home team.

She can't explain it, she doesn't know how to rationalize. That's just it, the long and short of it. It's a mixed bag unlike no other and one that has built her up and torn her apart in more ways than anything else ever will in her life. Therein lies the rub, after all- it's her life. It's her entire world, everything she knows, all she has built. It's hers, and yet.... it isn't. Not really. But nothing ever is completely yours- you build lives, with people. Houses become homes, you becomes we, and time marches on. Nothing is ever completely yours- parents, siblings, children... in the beginning, someone makes room for you. As time goes on, you make room for others.

There's a part of her that embraces that, loves the idea of it, of being so open with her heart. It's words that change it all. It all comes down to words. People say actions speak louder. Sometimes they do. But words... most powerful weapon we could ever hold in our arsenal. Spoken, written... anger, shame, love, hate.. it all comes out in words. Truth comes out in words.

She knows that isn't so, not all the time. She's spun tales with the best of them, to save face, to cover ass, to tell a story. It's what we do, isn't it? What is fiction if not a little reality and a little fantasy? We dream, we lie, we write, we create. But in almost all of it, there's something real. That's the part that stands out, that draws you in- it's all in the tone, be it spoken or written, fact or fiction. You recognize tone, you relate. You've been there, felt that, known that. That's what tugs at you.

She doesn't know what to do with it, honestly. She waits patiently for a moment, for the cloud to pass. She pushes, she pulls... she opens, she closes. She vents, she rages, she tells you. She tells you, in a thousand ways, and you see..but not really. Too much tug, obligation.

She pushes, she pulls. She opens, she closes. She vents and she rages. And then she writes it down.

Ahhh 2009

I spent a little time last night and this morning reading over the past year or so on my blog. It amazes me to see the difference a year makes. Going into 2009, I felt so many things that I'm struggling with as we head into 2010.

I think I spend a lot of time worrying what to write, for a blog, a status, etc... when I should just be writing. For me. If I never post it anywhere, I'll have it to look back on someday and hopefully think “Wow, you've come a long way since then... but what a ride huh?”

I don't want to do a wrap up of 2009. I have no intention of doing that. Talk about the year, the roads taken and not, sure. But there's no way to even begin to try and wrap up anything about the past year. How do you wrap up a year that seems to have wanted nothing more than to test every single thing in your life? Every move, every thought, every feeling. 2009 can bite it, ok? I'm not wrapping him up, I'm not delivering him anywhere with a shiny bow or a smile on my face.

I have never known, until now, just how much you tell yourself that you shouldn't think or feel a certain way. That you should always feel and think kindly, openly. Yeah, it would be amazing if it worked that way. But it doesn't. You may not want to feel something... guess what? You do anyway, regardless of what “should” or “shouldn't” thinks, and all you end up doing? Is feeling a hundred times worse for having an emotion in the first place. How could I think such a thing, feel this way... Because we're human beings, flawed and imperfect. Selfish and fearful. That doesn't make bad people- it makes people people.

I had thought I was done with these feelings, done with questioning, wondering... Is everything a test? EVERYTHING? When do I get a pass? When do the tests get easier, the answers come faster? Why is there always such struggle and hurt with these tests? Because you have to face the monsters in the closet someday. You have to learn who you really are, under all the walls and fears, the anger, the joy... who are you? Where is your strength? How far are you willing to go to find the way, find yourself? What will all of this crap teach you? What won't it teach you is the question.

I get that life isn't a destination, and that we are constantly learning and changing. We have to accept and move on, adapt and change with the rest of the world.. but we don't have to do it immediately, without protest, without wondering just what the point is.

The point is to find your balance. Yours. Not his, hers, anyone else's. Just yours. Find that, and the rest will seem a little easier. Just a little. At the end of the day, you have to make peace with yourself before you can with anyone else. And you have to accept that you aren't always going to be the person you want to be, with all the perfect responses that you “should” have. It just doesn't work that way. We don't work that way, and really? How boring would it be if we all had the same response to everything, the perfect answer to all of these questions, a 100% on every test? You wouldn't learn nearly as much... and you sure wouldn't have as much fun.

Do I always look at the woman in the mirror and find that contentment? Not by a long shot. But I think she's ok, most of the time. And I know her heart, those pieces she doesn't share with anyone but herself, and that I find peace with. Because only I know what's really in there, underneath all I say and do, all I show to the world. And that heart is a good one, albeit a cautious, sometimes cynical one. That heart has carried me through a lot of things, has broken a thousand times, and has loved beyond anything I ever imagined. That's an accomplishment.

I don't know what the next year will bring. I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I wish sometimes that I did. It would make life a lot easier. But, life isn't made to be easy, is it? Life is about risking and searching. Learning, falling, and getting up again, each scar a sign of something you have come through, something may have knocked the wind out of you, but in the end, you did get up. Maybe a little less confident, maybe a little more jaded- but you got up. Sometimes that alone is the lesson- that you can get up again. You can brush yourself off, pick up the pieces, and rearrange them to make something different. And who knows? That something different may turn out to be what was supposed to be, all along.

Stories

So, I'm sitting here with an open Word document, and somehow, the words are flying. There's a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen, and at the moment, it seems that I could type for hours. I suddenly have so much to say, and it just won't stay hidden anymore.

I have to admit, hearing the sounds my fingers are making, flying over the keys with no hesitation (and hopefully very few typos), I feel such a sense of relief. Writing, good writing, clear writing, has been impossible for so long... it's like finally scratching that awful itch you can never quite get to. But, one day, your angle is just... right... and then... ahhhhh. Finally.

Sometimes, when you least expect it, there is a light that shines in your direction, when the road is dark and you feel that no matter where you turn, which direction you choose, it isn't the right one. There is always a choice, sometimes you are simply so blinded by all you're dealing with, thinking, feeling...it just seems there are no more choices. But then there's a word, a song, a paragraph, a voice. The the lights come on, sometimes slowly, sometimes all at once, and you think “Yes! There it is! How did you know?”

This year has been a very long one for me and those I love, in as many different ways as you could possibly think of. There have been amazingly great times, and amazingly awful ones- very little this year has made middle of the road. I kept waiting for it to, but it never quite found that stride. And in wanting it so badly, I lost mine too.

I've been fumbling for a long time, wondering, waiting, searching without any idea where I was supposed to be going. I know it's somewhere special, I know there is something I'm supposed to be doing, and this year, for the first time, I think I truly lost sight of what it had always been. Writing has been my lifesaver for as long as I can remember, and yet, I could barely string two sentences together. I think that took something from me, and finding it again was something I had to fight for. I've worked so hard to keep it all together that it all just... sort of fell apart.

I have to let go, of so many things, and doing that has been an uphill battle. But it has to go- all of it, the excess baggage standing there in the corner, weighing me down and keeping me from truly taking a step forward and getting on with the business of making a life worth retelling someday. Because if that isn't what I'm doing, every day, then what am I doing here?

Where is it coming from, this clarity? From a voice, of course. A paragraph, a phrase. A new blog that has touched me on a lot of levels and given me some insight that is long overdue.I'm Listening is more than just my mother in law's blog :). She has a voice and a way with words that reach pretty deep. Be sure and give her a read- you won't be disappointed.

I'm not going to promise to be back soon, or talk much about the coming year. I'm just going to do. I'm tired of talking about what I'm going to do, or want to do, or need to do. I want to talk about what I'm doing, what I've done, what's actually going on, and not going to be.

I want to tell you stories, fiction and non. But more than that? I want to listen to my children tell the stories someday, and be able to truly cherish what they are saying, what they remember, what I remember. Because a the end of the day, it isn't about the happy ending. It's all about the story.

Um.... Yeah....

Since it may be awhile before I post something even remotely interesting, and even longer before I post any actual "writing", I send you all to this creative writing post I did ages ago. Like I said then, the story itself had nothing to do with the article posted, or anything even remotely in common with the actual events. The rest of the explanation was almost 100% true. I DO have a manuscript in 8th grade handwriting that resembles this piece. I DID (and DO) have a friend named Teresa Kawa and that bet did exist. But, stories change. People change. And this entry will never cease to bring me to tears. For every reason.

The Way I Am

First off, for any unanswered emails, unreturned phone calls, etc., I apologize. I have been on the internet only to play mindless games on Facebook the last few days. LOL You are not forgotten, I am simply taking a moment to collect myself and have some space.

I think if I were to have a "group response", if there was such a thing in the varying circumstances I'm dealing with right now, I would be able to say the exact same things to 99% of the people I HAVE dealt with in the last week. That is kind of sad, to me. But I think that it's a perfect example of how a lot of people feel sometimes.

It's almost as if people paint their own portrait of you, of who you are, and sometimes they get a little right. Sometimes a lot. But, still, it's their portrait- and nine times out of ten, they paint you as they need you to be, for them. Not for cruel reasons, for the most part. But to fill a space, to fit a need... there are a million reasons people do things.

But they just don't get it, you know? They see pieces, but never the entire painting. Never the entire person under the surface. They don't want to. That makes you more real, and sometimes that isn't shallow enough for people to look. People don't want deep. They say they do, think they do. But they don't. Deep isn't safe. Deep is having and keeping, not wanting and thinking. There is a very big difference there, one I am smart enough to notice now.

Deep are the people who have had your back, always, without question. When you are at your lowest, sinking, and the world is crashing, the people who stay with you are the ones who want deep. They want the good and bad, the shit and the roses, and all of the in between. Friends, family, significant others... if they walk with you through the shit holding your hand, they've looked at the portrait you paint of yourself. If they turn their backs on you, disappear? They see a flaw in the portrait they painted, and that? Isn't someone who has your back.

I attempt to surround myself and my children with the deep ones, though those are few and rare. Although I have made errors in my judgment on who those are and are not, at times. I am not weak, or stupid. I'm simply someone that only a small handful of people in my life have taken time to actually see. And I'm as guilty of it as anyone else, I'm not saying I'm the poor misunderstood one. We all are, in our own ways. I'm just tired of people's bullshit. I'm tired of my own bullshit.

I figure at this point, I'm going to let the chips fall. I know who I can truly count on, at the end of the day, and that is all that matters. I'm all about the black and white right now. I have too many things to do, without dealing with other people's shades of grey.

Unleashed

**Warning** This may not be PG. This may not be PC. This may cause me to lose readers, gain readers, or cause nothing at all. This is what I've been talking about- the start of something different.

I'm sitting here with a glass of wine (**gasp**, she drinks!!) contemplating things that you can't even imagine, Internet. The carpets are shampooed, the kids are fed and bathed, the cats are sleeping, playing... you get the drift. My shit is together, right now. And yet... it isn't.

I've been thinking a lot about compassion, tolerance, acceptance, etc., the last few weeks. As the parent of a child with special needs (for you newbies, my 7 year old son has autism, and Early Onset Bipolar Disorder) you come across a LOT of ignorance, intolerance and outright cruelty. It's almost expected with other kids- kids can be mean, especially when another child is different. When it's NOT a kid is when I have a problem. Ignorance breeds ignorance, and unfortunately, there is a lot of that where we are. Blame lack of education (look it up), misinformation (ask me) or fear (it's not contagious, asshole)- but it's still wrong. My son has been called "a crazy", "goofy", "dippy" and more words that I can't even bear to put down here. By adults. That have children. Who live in my neighborhood. Where is the compassion?

I have a friend who was in a severe car accident on her way to work as a nurse in an assisted living facility. There was over $10,000 worth of damage to her vehicle (she was hit by a large truck). She was treated for cervical strain, given medications and follow up visits, and could barely move her neck arms or back for a week. She was fired for missing work- on the day of the accident. The company is now fighting unemployment. After firing her, causing her to lose her insurance and adding stress to an already devastating situation. She is a single woman raising a toddler. Who does such a thing? Where is the compassion?

When did we stop thinking outside ourselves? When did it become so "me, me MEEEE" that it's impossible to look at another human being-even a stranger- and realize that unless we live in their homes, walk in their shoes, and deal with their issues every single day, we have no idea what we're talking about, or doing, when we point our self righteous fingers and call ourselves "better"? No one is better. No one. We all got here the same way, and we will all make the same exit. Who we are inside is what counts-that's where your beauty lies- and I've seen a lot of ugly people lately, when it comes to having the heart to take a minute and just be kind. Or decent. Or even humane.

I'm not innocent here, either. I've been judgmental, I've been hateful... we all are at times. We're human. But it astounds me the lack of genuine compassion that there is anymore. We're so busy, so focused on ourselves that we don't look left or right to lend even a smile when someone is down. And that Internet? Sucks.

That sort of thinking leads me down some roads I didn't plan on taking. Confused? Join the club. I want to make a difference, I want to see change... and those things start at home. I'm getting my house in order, taking stock of choices, chances and changes. Some need to be made. Not on a whim, not for a minute... some need to be made. Starting with me. I need to look outside myself, my fears, wants, needs... some things cannot be about me. No matter how I want them to, they just can't.

I want my kids to be compassionate, respectful, and open to everything. I want them to see the world as an adventure- I want them to be excited to learn new things, meet new people, and to see "different" as something special. I want them to accept responsibillity for their actions, and to realize they can't conrtol anything but themselves. I don't want them to see labels, ever. I don't want them believing for a second that they're better than anyone- or that someone is strange because of belief, race, or who they love. Acceptance. We really are one world... why can't we teach our kids that? Different makes it interesting.

I know. A lot of rambling thoughts that may not really mesh, but they do, for me. And I hope in some ways they do for you. Who are we to say anything about anyone else? We all have our skeletons, our vices, and our pasts. Today. Today is what matters. We can't change what has been, but it's on us what will be.

Now, the question is- which way do you want to go?

Ya Know it's Monday...

Happy Mommy's Day to all the super moms out there. a little late (as usual) but I was with my family all weekend doing a whole lotta nothing and enjoying every minute. LOL I hope all of you were pampered and spoiled this weekend, lavished with homemade cards and stories that you will keep forever, and didn't have to lift (barely) a finger!

I have to tell you, I am so excited by one of my gifts this year- I finally got the stand mixer I've been drooling over for awhile now. I've had hand mixers, and a wooden spoon, but now that I'm baking and cooking so much more, trying new recipes, making my own as I go, this will make life sooo much simpler! And who doesn't want simpler, really? I think I'd marry the thing if I could- all twelve speeds of it. Wait.. that sounded... eh. Well. Moving on....

The mixer came with a recipe disk. This is where it gets more exciting. For me. It's filled with easy cakes, cookies, frostings, etc... and everything but the frosting starts with a cake mix. There's a how to, there are photos, and you can make your own recipe book, add your recipes, pics, etc. I'm in heaven over here with it all. And I now know how to make bunny cakes, cat cakes and sandcastle cakes. Seriously, diagrams are a must- I'm craft-impaired. I may end up with a deformed rabbit cake, but I'm planning on trying, because stuff like that is so fun to do with the kids. And then you can blame them if it looks funny... LOL!

I'm going to start taking more pictures as I do cook, and posting more- it's a promise. I'm committing to more posting, more pics and more recipes. Except my lasagna- never will I share that, it's my secret weapon. It goes up there with the rest of my arsenal, and is off limits. Everything else is up for grabs. Be forewarned, though- I'm not a gourmet chef. I'm not going to make a rack of lamb here, guys. But I can give you easy, inexpensive and very picky family friendly. And when I say picky, I'm not exaggerating- my kids are PICKY. Alyssa won't even eat pizza or peanut butter. I can't make things without sneaking things in, and I've learned that spices and seasoning are my best friends.

So, that's all. I'm rolling some ideas around in my head, and we may be looking at a more domestic not so domestic. But, I'm going to be doing it with the music blaring and a glass of wine in hand, probably with a sink full of dishes and kids running wild. So.. not too much is changing. ;)

Stay tuned... the party is just starting!

And Then, Her Head Exploded

I sometimes sit back and listen to the kids talk, and wonder how it's possible for things to change so much in, what seems to me, so little time. And then I wonder- has it changed that much, or are you just seeing it that way because you're the parent now, and the things you know are a lot different that the things you knew when you were their age? Personally, I think it's a little of both. Times have changed, definitely, but now it's my time to worry and wonder, to plan and prepare so they're happy, healthy, safe... because they won't worry about those things. At least, they shouldn't.

I do think I'm more open with mine, in a lot of ways, than my mother was with me. Nothing is taboo, they can ask me anything, and ooooh, do they. LOL And honestly? I'd rather be the one answering with age appropriate responses than have the kid at school, or on the bus, or down the street, explaining things that are either extremely inaccurate, or right on, but REALLY inappropriate and scary (to me, LOL).

We covered the first "boyfriend" issue when Alyssa announced she was dating someone. And of course, dramatically broke up a couple days later. I love it, though... dating? Really? You're nine. But I remember how serious it was for me at that age... because everything is SO over the top make or break at that age. It's all drama, all the time, raising a girl, it seems. I don't remember being so... moody? Mouthy? Know it all? In charge? Secure? In touch with exactly who I was and how it would be? I admire her so much, when I'm not wanting to tape her mouth shut. :) We're growing in a new direction, my girl and I. She's gotten to a stage, already, where you can watch what she does and just see, so clearly, the woman she's going to be. And oh, man, what a woman she'll be. Strong, smart, independent, and ... every single thing I'm not, combined with some of the best of who I am. She takes no shit, and can give it back twice as hard. She has her course charted without even realizing, without even trying. She's NINE. It's humbling, to think that somehow, some way, she's become this wonderful person, in part because of me. And I'm thankful that Taylor has such an absolutely amazing sister to look up to and learn from. And even more so that their bond is already beyond unbreakable.

At the same time, I'm also getting the idea of the teenage years. Um, no thanks? Can we pass on it, because oh my God she's a terror already when she wants to be. She's stubborn and snappy, already has "oh my GOD!", eye rolls, sighing, stomping and slamming aced, and we haven't even touched on the want of the coveted cell phone. No, no and again, after almost six months of hounding, NO. I'm not one of those moms who thinks every kid needs a cell phone. If she walked to or from school, if she did any activity that I wasn't either at with her, or didn't give MY number to any and all people in charge? Yes. If she had a condition, if she was home alone, if I worked... there are a million good reasons for some kids to have cell phones. Mine does not have a good reason, other than "I want one."

I think they want too much too soon, which is typical, and I'm glad for it. But, being the adult, I now understand that they want too much without knowing or comprehending the dangers that can come with having it all too soon. Because not everyone is a good person. Not everything is safe to do. Not everything is as easy as you think. And some of that will come slowly, with time, while some of it will hit like a freight train, and as much as I want to shield them, I can't. Not from all of it. But, it will make them, shape them, change them... and they'll need that, too, whether they believe it or not.

Speaking of "need"? Remember the pregnant cat I posted about? Yeah. She stopped coming around for awhile, and then came back around, no longer pregnant. I assumed she'd had the babies, and was hiding them somewhere, and didn't shoo her from the food we keep on the porches (our cats go and and out, so there is always food/water available). I figured she'd need the nourishment to feed the kittens, had they survived.

They did. As far as I know, she had 3 or 4. Two of them? Are now residing in Taylor's old playpen, in dining/kitchen area. I know, I KNOW, believe me I know. But what can you do? They fit in the palm of my hand, were sitting out there, and meowed soooo pitifully. And I'm a sucker. They're the oddest color combos, too- black, gray, reddish tiger striped with one obviousy leaning toward calico. Adorable. And I'm a sucker. :) One of them has little white paws (Lyss named her Kali- short for "calico" but different,LOL) and is timid and follows the other one's lead. The other one... is bad. And of course, the one I like best. LOL But, they are both healthy and playful, eating solids, surprisingly, and shunning milk or mushy food. And I? Am a sucker.

It's time to gear up for another IEP meeting. I don't even really have anything for you on this right now only it's almost that time again, and my wants for him still stand firm. He needs to be challenged, to know there are consequences for every action, and you need to choose those actions wisely, and he needs to be with children his own age. Why? Because Jake imitates. He mimics the children around him a LOT, and if he is with his peers, his age group, he will fall in line with what they're doing, how they interact and play. If he is with a special ed group of kids varying in age, he'll mimc their behaviors. That's not a positive, and it regresses him, behaviorally and academically. He needs integrated. Period.

Taylor is talking. Sort of. She's now saying "kitty" and "car", "yeah", "yay" and "hey"- which is usually said like this "heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey!" at the top of her lungs. All these words in a span of three days! To add to the rest of her vocabulary. She has also realized that Mom means business and Dad will usually let her get away with just about everything. Typical. She's growing so FAST. Still cutting teeth, but now wearing ponytails and getting bruises and scrapes on her knees and making me gasp a hundred times a day- in fear, usually, as she attempts a stunt that I just KNOW will injure her. LOL

There's not much else happening, just a lot of watching them grow and wondering what's up ahead. It's comforting, seeing them making good choices and growing with a firm sense of who they are and what they're made of. But it's also comforting when I'm the one they still come to for the hurts, the curiosity and everything in between. I hope that never changes. That is something, maybe the one thing, worth anything else.

Books and Stuff

I've been writing for as long as I can remember. Same for reading. I have always had an appetite for fiction, and some non fiction, and I've always loved making my own little worlds where my characters live. I would love nothing more than to be published. That, so far, has not happened, and the self publishing route has been satisfying, for the most part.

I previously had 2 novels on one site for distribution, but due to policy and price changes I'm moving my stuff over to Amazon. They have a self publishing site of their own now, Create Space, and it seems a lot more cost effective and user friendly. I mean, I'm proud of my work, but not proud enough to expect someone to pay $70 for a paperback book- and that would be without royalties for the author. Ridiculous.

So, I set things up, and have a paperback of Sky Paintings on the way for me to proofread and check, then I'll give the ok to publish, and voila- type me in on Amazon, find my book. Almost like a "real" author, eh?

This is all happening from a friend of mine who recently read Sky Paintings, and has offered me a possible opportunity. I don't want to say much, or jinx myself, so mum's the word for now. I'm excited, flattered, and a little embarrassed- I'm not used to the attention, honestly, and I'm uncertain what to do with it. The idea of a possible group of people, unrelated to me, enjoying my book and wanting to know more? Intrigues me... but scares me some, too. I'm not interesting, LOL. I'm just... me, I guess.

Anyway, that's the long and short of it right now. I'm working on setting the space up, and possibly tossing Deadly Vision up, just because. I may have hated the work, but I did it. I'll keep you posted, and in the meantime.... enjoy that video down there! ; )

Everything, Nothing and In Between

I am interrupting the beginning of our regularly scheduled (ok, sporadically, when you least expect it, cause I'm too cool for schedules, if "cool" means held hostage by snowed in children) post to mention that today, I am filled with hope. There is change on the way for our country, hopefully positive. I feel it will be, but I'm not in the business of guaranteeing people will follow promises with action. Cause, seriously? My radar with that is sometimes waaaay off. But, I feel somewhat renewed. Whether you agree or not, like it or not, we did make some history with this election. I feel the right choice was made, I think that President Obama is the face of hope for a lot of people. To me it isn't about race, it's about the best person for a job. But, I do feel that by winning the election, Obama sends another message of hope to this country- anything can happen. In other words- "Yes, we can." Let's see what we take from this, and do with it. If we want change, we have to make change, too.

A change I'd like to make? To see some green outside. this white crap is killing me. When it's not in single digits, or negatives (which has just been so much fun!!!-do you hear the sarcasm? cause it's not dripping, it's oozing) it's snowing. When it's not snowing, it's a glare of ice. Today is the first day back to school with no delays, and it's snowing. I am shaking my head, squeezing my eyes shut and wishing for a beach somewhere.

But, I can wish for beaches all day long. Not happening. I will deal with this weather the way I have been (no, not by drinking! Why would you say such a thing?.....), and somehow survive the cabin fever without listening to that inner voice that pops up and says "THAT'S why Jack Torrance went crazy on his family...."

I have been cooking and baking a lot lately. Playing around with some recipes and adjusting them to be more versatile, more picky person friendly, and just mine. Mine in the way that whenever my kids eat it, they'll remember just how good their mom's such-and such tasted. I've made muffins, cookies, chicken parmesan, burger dip, lasagna, my knock off stroganoff, chili mac, my sloppy Joe, tuna noodle, and drinks that can be made virgin for the kiddos and add a little something extra for the adults to give some extra warmth. I've been busy. I've also been mixing and matching candle scents to make my own blend for my candle warmer. Basically, my house is always warm, filled with food and smelling yummy. I'm losing the "not so" part of my title here, people. Winter is domesticating me in ways I've never been domesticated before. I'm afraid, Internet. Hold me.

I started out doing it to prove a point, I think. That I **could** try new recipes and ideas without that stupid fear of failure. And I was GOOD at it- my kids enjoyed every single thing. even Alyssa, who is so picky I want to scream sometimes. The kid hates peanut butter. And pizza. And eight hundred other things. They liked the sandwiches I made up as I went, the casseroles and new meatballs and burgers... and I liked that for every new thing they tried, one more fast fix went out the door. You know you've spoiled them when your toddler turns her nose up at spaghetti-o's, and opts for your own pasta. Especially when spaghetti-o's were her favorite food. Heehee.

I'm enjoying this domesticity and that's weird! I've never really BEEN that way before- I mean, i cook, clean, all that good stuff, but there's been so much negative stuff that kept me from really trying to enjoy myself, in whatever I was doing. I've never truly taken pleasure out of creating things, because there was always something keeping me from really letting loose and just going wild with it.

I'm telling you- life really does begin at thirty. Because now I DO go wild with it, whatever it happens to be. And I figure it someone doesn't like it, they can kiss my ass and go on their way. Never thought of it that way before. Now that I do, it's a lot more fun! It makes for an easier day, I'll say that much. You worry soooo much less when you realize that no one, outside your own four walls, has an opinion that can make or break you. Even more when you realize that no one in those four walls does, either.

I've spent a lot of time cracking my own shell, and now I think it's finally just busted open and someone brand new has stepped out. It does make people look at you differently, having a confidence in yourself, a better posture, a better outlook. And it FEELS so much better. I'm a better person than I've been in a long, long time. and that makes me a better mom. I'll take it.... and accept the casualties that come with it. Sometimes, there's just no other way. Sometimes, there are no more roads left, and it has to be a brand new direction.

Anyway....

If you like to cook, bake, or just have the option, you should check out Tastebook. they have a really awesome selection iof recipes, you can make your own books, add photos, etc... there are a lot of options over there. I've got four little books started already, LOL. It's addiciting!

What about you, Internet? Favorite dishes? Faves you cook or someone cooks/has cooked for you? Things your family can't live without?

Pretty Paper....

I watch my kids watching me prepare for Christmas. Alyssa, especially, is taking it all in, soaking it up, mentally filing the things we do away in her memory, so she can someday incorporate these family traditions into her own family. They are all still young enough for Santa, reindeer and cookies, but I have a small ache in my heart at thinking this could be the last year Alyssa believes. She asked me about Santa, earlier in the week. My response was to ask her what she thought. She answered that she still believes in her heart, and that makes him real enough for her. She's a smart one, my oldest girl. Because it's true.

Santa is magic and cookies and anticipation.. and more magic. He's something that kept us awake, wriggling in excitement, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rudolph, or Blitzen, eating their carrots as Santa munched on cookies, putting everything we ever asked for under the Christmas tree. And, for me, Santa is as magical now as he was then. Maybe more so. I understand the thrill my parents got watching me on Christmas morning- watching my eyes widen, hearing me gasp or squeal in excitement. There's just nothing like it. Bottle it, sell it, you'd make a million, believe me. There is just nothing as good as kids on Christmas morning.

We've got our music, like I've said. And I've finally had my moment. I knew it was coming, I could feel it creeping up on me as I watched them, as I lit candles, decorated rooms, made lists of ingredients for cookies, fudge and the like. And when Willie Nelson's voice came through the speakers, singing to us about his pretty paper, his pretty ribbons of blue... I had to take a breath. Then another. Then let my kids see me cry. Because there are times they need to understand that sad is ok. And someday, a long time from now hopefully, they will feel the same- I miss my mom.

I can finally say it, and feel it, for the first time, really. Whether that makes me cold, indifferent, whatever, there it is. Because of the past, the way our relationship was, it's been hard to miss her. To let go of the negative things she instilled in me, all the things she did to my friends, my life... someday I'll tell you more about that. For now, we will just say she was not an easy woman to live with, deal with. I never felt close to her as I got older, I felt trapped by her. I was afraid of her. But this year, seeing all the kids, I guess I can find a common ground with her.

She loved me, I know that. It wasn't a healthy love,but it was there. She decorated the way she did for me, for making the memories we did. The ones that stick, the ones I've brought to my own family. The ones that are warm and comfy, easy to smile at.. and I guess now, easy to cry for.

I miss being that young, coming in from school and seeing the lights, the decorations, the tree. I miss sitting with my Dad on Christmas Eve and morning, opening gifts and laughing. I miss the innocence and wonder I see in my own childrens' eyes. And I'm thankful, for all those Christmases my parents made so memorable and so magical. for having that to pass down, no matter what else is happening in the world around us. For twinkling lights, cookies, carrots, and most of all, for all that pretty paper.

Getting It

Can you believe it's almost 2009? This year has flown by... I know, I've said that before. But it's so true! It's been an interesting one, too- to say the very least. It's been unusual. It's been beautiful. It's been downright ugly. But it's been an adventure- which is what keeps me going.

Let's see. In 2008, hell froze over. I know, that expression has been sorta used for another album and group, but seriously? So fitting. I got to relive a lot of my warm fuzzy moments, and experience something I didn't even know I'd enjoy nearly as much as I have. And I've had my kids along for most of the ride with me- which has been amazing to do. They've seen pieces of me they wouldn't have otherwise, they've watched me find myself and turn myself around in a lot of ways I didn't know I could, would, or even wanted to. I've been twelve, fifteen, and thirty at the same time. I've found that inner fun again, that girl who knew what was and wasn't, the one who knew what she wanted... and somehow forgot along the way. I've learned what I can and can't accept, handle or want in my life- I've found those non negotiable things. and some of that comes from turning thirty, I think, and looking back, forward and all around. Some of that comes from remembering who I was at some of the best parts of my younger life, embracing it, and saying to hell with what anyone else thinks. This is me, good bad and in between. I'm unashamed, unapologetic, and if it doesn't make me one of the "cool kids", I don't really care. I never was one of the cool kids anyway.

I don't know how to play the game. I don't know how to wear the false face, the better than you attitude, or the your shit stinks and mine's roses smile. That never made me popular. If I don't like you, I don't like you... I'm not shy about that. I don't have it in me for that. And I've hit my stride. I'm comfortable with that. I'm good with what I'm doing (though being a blog superstar? Would rock, and I'd so be lying if I said I didn't want to be one of THOSE cool kids!)But I don't want to be in the "clique"- whether it's the popular moms at my kids' schools, the popular one in the fangirl crowd, or whatever the hell you call us. I'm not sacrificing the parts of myself that seem to need sacrificing for that. The blogosphere, however? That's a different ballgame. Being cool in the blogosphere isn't about losing yourself, it's about BEING yourself. Maybe that's why I'm so comfortable here. I can let it all hang out and not really worry about it.

I can come here and talk about my kids' issues, my issues. I can be a dork, I can cry, rant, rave. I can laugh and gush, I can tell you about teething or snot, birthdays or baking. Music or clothes. Relationships, assholes, people that suck... it doesn't matter what I say. No one is (openly) judging me. And if anyone is? I don't know about it. I can just be... me. Alyssa, Jake and Taylor's mom. I can be autumn. Daughter, friend, lover, woman, PERSON. The New Kids junkie. Not Joe McIntyre's wife (which has been Googled at least six times to find me now... it never fails to crack me up). I don't have to look gorgeous (which never happens anyway, BTW), be dressed nicely (or really, even at all.. cause who would know?) or even comb my hair. I'm just here to ramble about my life, and all it's ins and outs. That? Kicks ass. That people read it? Kicks major ass.

What I'm trying to say is 2008 rocked my socks, turned me inside out, upside down and righted me again. With a grin on my face and a better sense of who this chick really is. Let's make 2009 even bigger, even better. Let's get this, shall we? Let's GET this.

Dear Internet

I am not dead. I've skipped a couple days here and there in my NaBloPoMo. It isn't you, Internet, it's me. It's a zany little thing called life and its love of throwing curve balls at my congested head. It's sleep deprivation due to sick child. It's never ending piles of laundry and dishes. It's opening Word and tentatively tapping a few sentences, then a paragraph, then another... and feeling a little of that old friend, Creativity, finding his way back home. It's a number of things, Internet... but it's not you. :)

That said- there's a lot I could write about lately that I just haven't found time, or words, for. Not a lot surprises me these days, but sometimes I guess I surprise myself- in good ways. Sometimes there are things that seem so hard, like they are impossible to get over- like a mountain of emotion, I guess. and then suddenly, when you aren't paying attention, you realize- you've made it. Quietly, unnoticed, you've found the other side. And I'll tell you what- that feels pretty damn good. Bring it on Life- I've done what I thought impossible. I've conquered something huge. What's next?

Ebb and Flow

I got my inspiration for this in the oddest of places. Sometimes, someone says something- not to you in particular, but to the masses, basically- and it really makes you stop and think. At least it did me. I read, re read, and then read again. And it made sense.. not just for a certain way of life, but for just... life.

You can't hold on too tight. Life is what it is- not every moment of every day is perfect, or awful. and while you need to hold onto the perfect moments, you can't choke the perfection out of them in an attempt to keep just those memories. Learn something from the awful, the mundane, the average... day. **smile** Because that's what it's there for.

I've had my share of perfect, terrible, so-so. And it is easier to look at those "can't get any better than this" times and think about how great it was. But, the more you look back, the farther back you hold onto just these moments, you lose something. You lose the could be perfections of this moment right here.

I am as guilty of this holding on as anyone else. Because there are some things that, no matter what, looking back at it can make you smile. and that's great- we're lucky to have those, whatever they may be. But you gotta let it go, to a degree, and be here. Now. Good, bad, in between. If you aren't, those absolutely perfect moments that happen? You'll miss them, because you're too busy looking at the ones you already had.

Keep your eyes open. Live it up, learn as you go. Look back with all the laughs and smiles you want.. and be thankful there were times you felt like that. But be just as thankful for the times you hurt, lost, walked away... because you learned something from them. And it makes those good days just that much sweeter. Believe me.

My New Favorite Song

Ramble, Ramble, Ramble....

I want to start this post off with a big congrats to J, who, over the weekend, became Sports Editor over at Crave Online. Crave is a pretty cool site, if you have never checked it out. they cover sports, comics, movies... they run the gamut of topics over there, and the articles are entertaining and informed. check them out! J has written for them freelance for over a year now, starting with comics, then adding sports to the mix. Now, he's moved up the ladder in the sports area and I can't think of anyone better for the job. The man loves sports, and writes one hell of an article. Pop over there and have a look around- I guarantee that there's something there for you to enjoy.

Next up- I've decided, after months of thinking and procrastinating, to attempt NaBloPoMo for November. Probably because there is no theme. I know myself well enough to realize writing daily, with a theme, would drive me insane. I most likely could not do it, or would claw my face off trying to do it. Writing every day, even on weekends, will be enough of a challenge for me right now, but something that I need to get back into doing. The creative juices are not flowing as freely as they once did (damn the flowage), and I'm hoping winter finds me typing away at something besides the blog, you know? Head over there as well and check it out- it's a fun community to join! And an interesting way to exercise your writing skills, even if those include rambling on and occasionally posting pictures of your cat wearing children's clothing. **cough**

Next month is Taylor's first birthday- I can barely believe it! I'm not planning a huge party- just a family- friends type event here at home, like we did for Alyssa and Jake. I am planning a lot of decorations and things to make it fun for her, and am trying to settle on a theme. The kids' parties have always been themed, but Miss T doesn't really have one thing she favors more, character or toy wise. She's bound and determined to be unique, this teething, non sleeping last baby baby of mine, and she is excelling. LOL So I'm thinking of just doing a theme of my own. Pastels, a few brighter colors, some girly things... something fun, memorable, and non cheesy, like a lot of the first birthday decor sets I'm seeing. Any ideas?

I'm anxious to see where she falls in the first cake category. Alyssa refused to touch her cake. She hated sweets of any kind until she was about three, and on her 1st, i was the one who put her fingers in the frosting... and then dabbed some on her nose and face thinking it would be cute, and she'd see it tasted yummy. It apparently was NOT yummy, and the photos show her crying hysterically as we rush to wipe the poison evil of sugar from her face and hands. I remember her flailing her hands in the air, screeching at the injustice of me trying to give her frosting and cake.

Jake, on the other hand... LOL. Jake tore his cake up. And then became territorial and swiped at anyone attempting to clean him off, remove the cake, etc... it was hysterical. He was covered by the time he was done. He tested it warily at first, and then plowed in, got it EVERYWHERE, got tired and proceeded to rub his face and head with his cake hands. The final pic of that we have is him leaning away from J, glaring as he approached to remove him from the demolition site. It took forever to get the frosting off of him, even in the bath. That stuff is like glue in hair.

So, I'm excited and a little sad. First birthdays are bittersweet. My baby is heading for toddler land, and soon the snuggles and games are going to change. The babbles will be real words and sentences, the crawling and pulling up will be walking, then running. The still gummy smiles will be filled with actual teeth, and the little curls will be longer and lose that baby fine texture. I don't really miss those early weeks and months, but there's a longing nonetheless. I miss the idea of doing it again, I suppose. The possibility.

But I look at all three of them, in their various stages and ones they've gone through, and I can say I am content with things as they are. Because there may be times I'll miss the small, sweet babies they used to be, I can watch them change, grow, become their own people and see so many possibilities.

I was going to touch on politics today, but it doesn't seem the post for it. Next time, maybe, when I can take time to really think about how I want to say things. For now, I'll leave you guys with this- pick a memory. A good one! Now, take a few minutes to be nostalgic- remember something that will give you the warm fuzzies all over. Whether it's your first kiss, your first baby, your first.. heh... take a few minutes to look back and remember- you are where you are, in part, because of that very moment. Weird, huh? Now, think of a not so good memory- and it's the same thing. You wouldn't be where you are without either. Think about that. what did you learn? How did it shape you? What did you walk away from it with, what did you leave behind?

Just food for thought.....

Seasons

I'm sitting here with a cup of coffee, a nice breeze floating through the screen door, bringing with it the smell of fall in the air. I'm watching leaves drift lazily to the ground in various shades of yellows, browns, reds and deep, deep orange. The house is fairly quiet, with just some Taylor chatter as she plays with her toys and crawls around, stopping every couple minutes to see what Dora is exploring today.
Jake is home sick, but even he's been pretty peaceful today (puking all night will at least make you seem peaceful, when it's really just taken all of your energy.) Everything seems to be at ease, and I'm just kicked back, enjoying my coffee, the quiet and my favorite time of year.

We need it, all of us. We've been stressed to the limit recently, and this lull is just what the doctor ordered for some recharging. There have been so many things happening (good bad and in between) that it was to the point where every small thing seemed huge, daunting, one of those "oh what NOW?" deals. And it's mostly been fairly normal stuff- Taylor teething, not sleeping, etc. Alyssa finding her wings and pushing the limit (and getting grounded) with attitude and responsibilities. Planning for birthdays, holidays, etc- from the time fall hits, it's one occasion after another. So there's re-budgeting, planning, etc., and that's somewhat stressful on a good day. LOL

Now, it seems to be settling some. I can think about baking, about decorating for the holidays. About my Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, all the things I love so much about this time of year. Seriously- I start playing Christmas music in early November, ok? And speaking of?!?! (You knew it was coming, didn't you? Yes, of course you did.) My FAVORITE Christmas album of all time has finally been reissued. It's been out of print since.. what, early 90's?... and all i had was a cassette that finally died on me a couple years back. Now, I can finally introduce the kids properly to even more music from my boys- (insert evil laughter). I think they'll like it better now that it doesn't sound warped and slow (cassettes do not hold up well for nearly twenty years, even if they are only played once a year.)

I'm enjoying the changes. In the kids, in myself, in everything. I feel so different. Like I'm finally comfortable in my own skin. Like this is the time when things are finally going to settle into place how they are supposed to be. Like the pieces are going to fit, not bulge and crack as I try so hard to MAKE them fit. This is the right path, the one we are on right now. I don't know where we're going, but I think that's ok. I think that's how it should be.

Now- here's what we all need to do. Go play in the leaves. Let them crunch and crackle under your feet. Jump in a huge pile and roll around. Toss them in the air. Whatever you wanna do. and then go have some warm apple cider (with a cinnamon stick!) and bask in the ultimate time of year!

Let the Countdown Begin

At this time, two Fridays away, I'll be sitting in the midst of chaos. Women will be screaming, crying, and possibly throwing lingerie at a quintet of men who changed a lot of lives back in the 80's-90's. Now that they have come back, they have changed these lives again. So, there I will be, in a floor seat close to that stage (edging ever closer if possible) snapping pictures and having the time of my life. Screaming and crying, no doubt, feeling like I'm twelve years old again, just waiting for Joe McIntyre to be the first man, other than my father, to tell me he loved me. I'll be surrounded by fellow Blockheads (smile), after having spent a day wandering the city of Cleveland, getting to know some of the women who have, in a sense, come home again.

It's really weird to say it like that, I get that. But there's no other way to explain it other than that. It is simply coming home- to a comfort that was missed, to many of our first loves, first influence, or even our first experience with live music. To be a part of it all again, as adults, is something I can't explain. It's odd, in a sense, because we have all changed as much as these men have. We've all lived our lives- married, had children, careers, lives completely seperate from where we were in 1990, when our bedrooms were plastered with the Five Hardest Working Kids in Show Business.

This time, we've all lived. We've all, Kids and fans alike, had our fair share of heartaches, joys and normal day to day crap. and yet here we are again, in full force, back where we were fifteen, twenty years ago. that says something to me. It renews my faith that there are some things worth holding onto.

this is what I'm talking about because this? This reunion? This upcoming show? Is keeping it together for me right now. this has been one of the hardest, most unpleasant weeks of my life, and I've really been on the edge a few times. I haven't blogged because there are some things I just can't say, there are some things that have no words. There are too many things happening at once right now, for me. there have been school issues, again (we can all say lawsuit, can't we? Yes we can!) as well as family matters that are taking one hell of a toll on me right now. I put on my brave face and go forth, because there are some things I'm embarrassed for people to see. My heart, at times, is one of them.

So right now? Right now I'm concentrating on playing my CDs and dancing with my kids, eating chips and salsa. I'm making them new recipes, playing with them... and concentrating really REALLY hard on what I have, personally, without anyone having had it first, better, or before me, loved for over half of my life now.

So bear with me if I post about this a lot, or disappear for days at a time. Right now? I am holding on very, very hard to the one thing I feel has always been mine.