Start spreading the news...

I'm leaving today....

New York, New York!!!


See ya'll in a week!

Peace,
B

I'm convinced..

God has a sense of humor. Because any God that didn't would never, ever, put men and women together and expect them to get along.

I am convinced some days He is up there looking down and elbowing St. Peter: "Watch this- he just told her she looks fat in that dress!" or "Oh boy, lookout, Mark just laughed at Bella when she was angry."

Oy.

They say motherhood is not for wimps. Well at least with motherhood you get instinct. With marraige, there is none of that to go on. Some days I feel like I am living with an alien. A stinky, hairy alien, but thats beside the point. An alien none the less.

Double oy.

Sometimes I think the people in the old days had the right idea- have a huge house, have seperate bedrooms. Have social schedules that allow you to see each other only to eat the occasional meal and sometimes to procreate. Sounds like bliss right now.

But bliss is not what I have. What I do have is a great husband that knows how to push my buttons. I have a husband who backs away and speaks in a verrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyy soooooooooooooothing toooooooooooooooone when I get upset. A husband who laughs when I am angry because it's "so cute". A husband who told me tonight to be "more frugal" because I had the audacity to want to buy Lily some fall clothes *gasp* before all the cute ones sold out. He told me cute clothes were "uncessary".

Say it with me, ladies: "Oh no he di'nt!!!"

Anyway, I know I'm complaining about bs stuff here. And I know I have it good. But sometimes, just sometimes, I think that lesbians have the right idea. The toilet seat is always down, house is always clean, cute clothes are a given, and throw pillows are not something to roll the eyes at.

I hear ya laughing, God. And I don't blame ya a bit.

Let the rain come...

Today was hot, steamy and muggy. It was hot. Did I mention it was hot today? Well it was. Damn hot.

I HATE North Carolina in August. Miserable, hot, muggy, buggy, hot.

Lily and I set off for our workout this morning. We arrived at the park, got out of the car, and I nearly decided to just kick off my sneakers, climb back into the A/C and go get ice cream.

But I didn't. I pushed through. Go me.

Anywhooo...I digress.

We finished our workout JUST as giant stormclouds amassed above us. We set off for the park shelter to stretch and do abs, and halfway through, the heavens opened. Lemme tell ya, this was no sprinkle people...it was a deluge. Rain fell, hard and fast, as we all huddled up with strollers and babies. We tried like heck to all get under the shelter, cramming our strollers and kiddos in like sardines.

Then something quite beautiful happened.

One by one, the bigger kiddos dashed off to dance, run, splash and scream in the rain.

And their mommies let them.

To anybody's eye, it was a simple thing- toddlers playing in the rain. Enjoying something somewhat forbidden with mommy's permission. Splashing in puddles, laughing. To mine, it was an expression of something foreign to me- childhood at it's most free.

I sat and watched, smiling. Lily tried to go out, but for the sake of her lil head, I kept her in. Poor thing, still so clumsy.

Then something even more beautiful. Rica and Emily, turning to each other, saying "Do you wanna go run in it?" and taking off at a mad dash, vaulting the picnic table and running into the gullywasher full speed. They danced, laughed, did cartwheels, did a belly bump, high fived, and danced some more.

Oh if I only had a camera. These two women, so down to earth, so lovely, so organized, so well, mom-like, dancing in the rain like kids. It was joyous to watch, and lifted my heart.

They came back soaked and laughing. Let me tell you something- supermodels at their best could not compare to how beautiful these two soaked to the skin mommy's looked after their "rain dance". The best part- they went right back out to dance some more- kids in tow. It was crazy, sweet, heartwarming, touching. It was the beauty of living in the moment, right in front of my eyes.

I started to think more as I was going home. This is what life hands us sometimes- the unexpected, the unwanted. The storm in our peaceful life. The cloud hovering, the threat of heavy weather. The illness of a loved one, the depression after a new baby, the disappointment of a divorce.

We watch the rain come down, and sometimes we damn the rain. Sometimes we simply do our best to get out of it, and shelter under something strong.

But then there are times when the rain is cleansing. When it is a joyous dance of heaven, when it is welcome, not only because it shows us we are alive, but because it washes us clean.

These are the times to dance in the rain. These are the times to lean your head back, laugh at the sky, and enjoy the moment.

Next time the rain comes, I will dance.

Free the West Memphis 3

I've been following the case of the West Memphis 3 since seeing Paradise Lost (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0117293/) in 1998 while randomly flipping through channels. I remember the feeling of horror, the feeling of sadness, and the feeling of disgust I had while watching these three young men being charged for a murder they obviously didn't commit. This documentary and the case it outlines is staggering in it's magnitude.

Then along came Paradise Lost 2 (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0239894/), and I literally watched it with a sick twisted feeling in my gut. I didn't think the witch hunt, the injustice, and the corruption could get worse, but it did.

I am no expert on forensics. I am no expert on murder. But in the case, you don't have to be. Three little boys were brutally slain in the woods that day, but 6 people were victimized. The ultimate horror of this is that whomever took those little boys lives is still out there, free.

I am a firm believer that knowledge is power. The more people who know about this case, the more chance there is of the authorities sitting up and taking notice. There is to be a new hearing on evidence in September. If you aren't familiar with the situation, please take a look around this website:

http://www.wm3.org/live/thewm3/index.php

If you are so inspired, there is a directive here to send a postcard to the governor of AK. The thought is to simply keep the flow of postcards coming, letting this man know the world is watching the outcome of this case.

Thanks.

Time flies...

When you have a one (and a half) year old.



Okay, so I know when you have kiddos, one of the greatest joys is watching them grow up. Everybody told me this. Mothers would look at my sprouting belly and shake their head saying "Enjoy every second...it goes too fast." Or they would approach me as I stood bleary eyed in the diaper aisle with a screaming 6 week old clasped to my chest and say "Isn't it just a beautiful thing? Enjoy it, it goes so fast."



And I would look at these women and think "Are you effing kidding me? I can't wait until she gets older! I'm not sleeping, I'm covered in baby goo, and my breasts have become a filling station for this little parasite!" Instead of saying anything, I would simply nod and smile.



Oh how the tides have turned. Now I am the nimrod approaching every woman with a newborn, spouting off at the mouth about how sweeeet, and enjooooooy it, and how happyyyyy you must be. I'm sure, just like I did, these women are thinking of what a clueless moron I am.



I AM clueless, because in the divine order of things, you forget those first few months. God makes you, or nobody would have more than one.



Let's be honest here...kids are a blessing, but Lord allmighty are they hard work. If they aren't bugging you with their noise, they are worrying you with their silence. If they aren't clinging to you and fussing, they are attacking the dog with markers. It's an endless dance of balance, trying to keep your own sanity in tact while keeping these little individuals not only alive, but happy.



I know in my case, I have a really really good little girl. Really good. Sweet, happy, and loving. Affectionate and compassionate. Not to mention smart as a whip, impatient, and hell bent on getting her way. All of my hopes that she would have daddy's laid back personality are looooong gone, my friends, long gone.



The past year and a half has flow with such speed. She has gone rapidly from this lil peanut:






To this beautiful little girl:




How did this happen? It went so fast!


See, there I go again. But it's true, it does goes fast. You blink and you tiny little boo is a toddler, capable of playing on her own, deciding her own agenda, eating by herself, pulling all the toilet paper off the roll in 1.2 seconds, emptying your dresser drawers in total silence, singing the chorus of "Wonder Pets", and asking for juice, milk, food, cuddles, and her music to be played on her CD player.


How does this happen?


Well, I can tell you this much. As much as I want to be the woman who will approach that sad bleary eyed mother in the freezer section at WalMart and tell her things will get better, one day she will actually lose the baby fat and be able to shave more than one calf at a time, etc etc- What I will end up saying is "Enjoy it, it goes so fast."


Because that one sentence encompasses all of this: One day you will look up and your baby will be walking, she will look at you and say "I ludge you", she will take a huge tumble off the couch and scare you to death, she will have a fever of 105 and want ONLY YOU for 3 days, she will laugh from the other room and it will make you cry, she will eat pancakes and eggs and run at top speed through a lawn sprinkler, she will make your proud and make you angry and make you want to pull out your hair.



And all of, all of it....goes too fast.

Somebody somewhere...

Well here goes.

Does anybody ever feel like somebody else really "gets" them?

Like really?

Cause nobody gets me.

I'm not saying this with anger or sadness at all. I'm hard to get.

I have a twisted sense of humor. I am just twisted in general. I am weird. I know this.

But why does my husband look at me like I have 2 heads? I mean, c'mon dude...just cause I am singing the "Wonder Pets" theme song as I fold laundry isn't any reason to ask me if I am smoking crack. So what if Lily isn't even around to hear it?

And now, yup you guessed it, Lily is starting to look at me that way. She is SOOOOO over me. I am no longer as funny as I used to be. Gone are the days when she would crack up over a hand puppet made with a burp rag. I could have a whole gaggle of hand carved Austrian puppets and she'd simply yawn and wave me away like some sad joker trying to entertain a queen.

Oh sure, I have fantastic girlfriends who love me, and I assume, my sense of humor is part of that. But I'm sure there are times when they are thinking- huh?

And that's okay.

I just sometimes wish....oh I dunno, that I had a clone. You know, somebody who was stunningly beautiful like me (ahem, stop laffin) and who could understand me fully.

Knowing my luck, my clone wouldn't like me.

But I'm just twisted enough that that would be....funny.

:)

One foot in front of the other.

All of this constant drama and angst...oy, I can't stand it.

I'm a girl, and so drama is not foreign to me, but this is beyond even my ability to make the worst out of.

My dad should be settling into his new life in a nursing home right now.

I look at that sentence and I cringe. Because in my mind, I still see that man as he was- strong, able, melting out of the Las Vegas sun after a long day in the heat.

I cannot believe what his life has come to. I mean, everybody gets older. Everybody has times when they cannot care for themselves...but when the strongest person you have ever known falls it makes a mighty sound.


My world is still vibrating.

In the past week I have had countless conversations with nurses, doctors, psychologists. I have spoken with my brothers. I have done what I can from this far away, but damnitt, it's not enough.

The whole things just sucks, hurts, and carries such weight my heart feels weighted down. But the good news is I feel a little better than I have. I feel a little lighter, a little more in control of my emotions. I am not so shut down. I don't feel miserable.

But I miss my father. I miss him, already. And although he was a shitty excuse for a parent, he is a pretty good human being. All of the drinking and addiction cannot take away from me the times he was good to me, the times we went to the park (duck attacks aside), the times he cared for me when I was sick. It can't take away the small moments my heart holds to. And if I piece these together, I can somewhat cover up the other things. I can focus on more than my disappointment and hurt.

So here's where I choose to place my eyes- where I can see the good. Where I can see my father, the man, flawed and frozen, but still human. Human, and thus worthy of my kindness, my forgiveness, my love. Human, and thus God's creation. Just as I am. If I want to be worthy of forgiveness, I must forgive. It is a simple equation in words, but it is complicated in action. Complicated, but entirely worthy deliberate pursuit.

Despite all, I love him. And love is blind, love forgives, love carries, and love goes forward.

So here I am, in my new reality. I am stepping forward and going on. With every step, I am closer to my father, both earthly and in heaven.

If this walk isn't worth completing, what is?

Thanks for walking this path with me, step by step.