Maybe so.

He has a way of sneaking up on me. Usually it is the good days or the normal days I should say. Like right in the middle of doing laundry when I find myself hanging onto the washer just to help from falling all out into the pile of dirties. Wouldn’t that be a sight? Little Miss got it all together falling apart right, slap dab In the middle of her dirty laundry. I have not ever had it all together. Let’s not get it wrong.

The last week of August I changed.

It’s funny how a person’s heart can endure: pain, disappointment, betrayal, and yet that heart still has the courage to love. The courage to plant hope on falling stars and believe that dreams do really come true even after all.

The second time

Maybe you aren’t thinking about me at all…

The First Time

everything can be perfect and then you disappear, not calling, non existent, poof… Like your life is so separate and I have never exisisted there.  We never were and the waiting is making me insane, down to the pit of my stomach, I ache and morn for your loss in a sense of wonder and agony that no words seem to expell.  

I could never say this to you of course because you might think I care or think that I’m needy or that I’m sitting around waiting for my life to begin that only starts with you.  You might think im neglecting my work, perhaps you think my courses are going unvisited.  You might think I’m irritable with my children and aloof from my every day life.  You might think I need you and my happiness depends on your presence.  

You might think you can find someone better, someone younger, someone with less than three kids, someone with less than three fathers to those three kids.  Maybe you think you can find someone more attractive, more appealing to the eye, someone with longer hair and a thinner waist, maybe you are thinking you want a girl with less creases on her forehead, less life showing on her face.  

Workout Idea of the Week: Change is Good

Workout Idea of the Week: Change is Good.

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Workout Idea of the Week: Daily Plank Regimen

Workout Idea of the Week: Daily Plank Regimen.

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Homegrown

one time i thought the grass would be greener in someone elses yard, so I jumped the fence.

No. It isn’t.
after a short amount of time, you find you have weeds coming up over there, too.

So, I put up my own fence, built my own yard, planted my own grass. It isn’t the greenest, but it feels better on my feet.

My Youth

I found me through you.
Where the sun hides behind the moon and clouds whither away the day
I spent my time
Writing letters With no salutations
And blank empty goodbyes

Hidden inside the walls until noon
Under dark blankets passing the day
I laid my soul
Singing my hearts lyrics to any one
With no hearing to sigh

Motherhood

He’s perfect..
They all are.
Perfect little eyes with a nose like mine that sits too big on my face is perfect undoubtably on his. We create a perfect world to surround them. knowing all along how much imperfect it really is. Our Job we think is to protect them from these imperfections. shelter them from life that’s real, and while our hearts are wounded. we cover them with bandaids hiding all that’s not perfect. We work ourselves Tirelessly giving them a life better than ours…one that doesn’t know sadness or illness. As long as they are with us they are protected.
….from boogie monsters and bad guys. We know they have on their seat belts, someone is holding their hands when they cross the road…the snots getting wiped off, bathroom light is on, he has his blanky, they are eating food they like…all is well. When they are away, what about boogers, looking both ways, scraped knees, macarroni & Cheese, not white milk, the right tooth paste, bad dreams, is their seat belt on? What if something happens and they learn that life isn’t perfect and we aren’t there to
stick on the bandaid?

Cancer

blinking cursor….blinking cursor…

i was very positive about the start of new year and the end of an old one. there is so much to be happy for right now and so much to be sad about. right now i feel a little numb inside. like if it hits me it won’t stop hitting me until it breaks me. somebody has to be the strong one, right? like my brother looked at me when i told him in a way that said ‘if you’re not gonna cry…i’m not gonna cry’ i didn’t cry and he didn’t either. i had already cried…a constant cry on the inside. my m.o. is more of the strength in the bunch. The one that holds together everyone so they can cry. my had that look on his face, though. my look. my i will be strong for you look. i don’t get that look much from those that share my blood. it was a little weird, a little comforting, and in a way i just wanted him to cry because that is familiar, and then i would say “everything is gonna be alright.”

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