TABBA

Sunday Morning...err...Early Afternoon Song of the Moment, by Rav

2009-05-17T10:25:00.000-07:00

Here is one of Tabba's new faves. She is sitting at the kitchen table, diligently doing her school work. Currently she is also angry because I am an ass. Which I am. So without further ado, Good Arms Vs. Bad Arms by Frightened Rabbit:

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment

2009-04-19T07:33:00.000-07:00

This week it's a cover. A Buddy Holly cover. I thoroughly enjoy M. Ward's version of Rave On. I hope you enjoy it too!
Have a great Sunday!

Christmas, It's Just A Trip Up 295 and Over The Bridge

2009-04-15T16:41:00.001-07:00

The other day, I was snuggling in close to Gracie on the sofa. She looks at me so intent, so sweet and she says, "Mommy? Is Christmas gone forever?" I chuckle to myself a little and answer her the best way that I could think of at that moment and reply, "No, honey. It's not gone forever. It's just not Christmastime now."
"Oh." She says and thinks on that for a moment. She then asks, "Well, when will it be Christmastime again?" I say to her, "Well, it's Spring now. Christmas is in the winter. Christmas is far away."
"Oooooohhhh." she says again. By George, I think she's got it. Her eyes get all wide and I can see that she understands now. "So Christmas is far away. Like New Jersey?"

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment (It feels good to be back)

2009-04-12T08:30:00.000-07:00

As it is 11:30 a.m. EST, it is still technically morning. The past two days have found us lazing about. We've needed the time to unwind. As a family, we have been contracting and releasing, contracting and releasing ad nauseum for months. So this still time, this lazy time has been a much needed reprieve.

After months of being MIA and collecting some "new" music I give you the house special. The Sunday Morning song post. I've missed my little baby over here. It seems that these little posts struck a chord with some of you & I didn't know that until I stopped doing them for so long. Here you go...one of my latest favorites: Old Old Fashioned by Frightened Rabbits. It makes a lot of sense to me right now. I hope that you enjoy!

It's Official

2009-04-05T15:28:00.000-07:00

I'm old.
You're probably laughing - if you know me.
October 2008 came and went. And with it my 30th birthday.
Which, I grant you, does not put me on the list for AARP or social security or Depends.
But it's official.
You wanna know how I know?
I'll tell you.

Do you remember listening to an elder - a grandparent, aunt, uncle, family friend who was long in the tooth? They had seen it all. And they weren't afraid to tell you about it. Truth be told, when you look back, you relish in their wisdom and their ability to adapt and change to the changing times. But when you were a kid that didn't mean you didn't roll your eyes when they would settle into their chair, let out a loooong sigh, possibly hike up their polyester pants (or maybe even undo their belt) and regail you with how "things used to be".

Well it shames me to admit it, but I have turned in to that person. And it hit me last weekend like a brick in the head. Rav & I were on our way home from my dad's house. It was a celebration of sorts - more on that another time. It was a beautiful, bright sunny Sunday and I decided to take the country road home. I used to drive that country road with my dad to get to The Farm or to take a ride - just the two of us. On certain Spring days, the air will smell sweet and clean and it will take me down that country road in my mind. I will remember snippets of conversation my dad & I had when traveling that road. It's peaceful and beautiful and one part of Delaware that had remained untouched by the sprawl that the (then)booming banking industry inflicted on other open fields in our state.

I haven't taken a Sunday drive (see, right there? That in of itself makes me old) on that country road in years. Quite frankly, it has been too painful. After The Farm was sold, I couldn't bear to drive it. It was just too raw. But I decided that day that it was time. The kids fell asleep as I drove at nice pace, windows open. The slight breeze would blow their hair and I sighed. Yes. I thought to myself. Yes. This was a good idea. Eventually Rav even fell asleep and I was left alone with the air and my memories as I drove.

Then it happened. And there they were. On either side of the road were sprawling neighborhoods filled with cookie cutter homes. No trees. And filling up fields that once went on as far as the eye could see. It turned my stomach. Literally. I let out a cry in horror. It was loud enough that it awoke my peaceful napping husband. He startled awake, looking back and forth, "Wha-, Wha-.....What?? What's going on?" He managed to sputter out. "LOOK AT THAT! DO YOU SEE IT? ISN'T THIS HORRIBLE?" He grumbled and fell back asleep. He left me alone to have a conversation with myself about how "that field right.there. was where there once was a family farm. See where that neighborhood is??? Yeah. There used to be a horse farm THERE." This went on and on inside my head. And that was when it hit me. That I was old. That I am 30 years old and cannot bear to see change. I cannot bear to see change when it turns farmland into sprawling, overcrowded neighborhoods full of McMansions on teeny-tiny plots of "yard". It's almost more than I can bear.

I realized that my delusions of change creeping everywhere else but that country road are just that. Delusions. I realized that my home state is turning into one big, sprawling neighborhood.

Most of all. I realized I am aging. And that I am slowly becoming that person I used to roll my eyes at. And the most I can hope for is that I learn to adapt and change along with it.

Should I?

2009-03-25T11:01:00.000-07:00

I miss this. I miss writing. I miss sharing. I miss your voices and I miss my Sunday posts.

Should I start over again here or somewhere else??

Mother's Blues

2008-08-06T10:45:00.000-07:00

Three years ago, the famiglia de Ravioli really struggled.
We threw our hands up in the air.
We huffed and puffed.
We shook our heads in resignation.
We wondered What in the hell is going on? What did we do wrong? What can we do now?

Connor was struggling and as a result we were struggling too.
I knew before I knew that this was beyond us and we'd have to get help.
And we did.
And things were good.

He finished kindergarten without major incident.
And he is barely receiving any "extra" help or services.

We've seen some old behaviors/issues peak out of old, long forgotten places.

And we've seen some new things come up.

The summer has been rough.

And now he's heading to 1st grade.
Where he'll be expected to sit at a desk.
I well up with tears and feel a sneaking claw of panic grip my throat and chest.

Because we have to start over with a new teacher.
She has to figure out Connor.
He's a complicated fellow.
And yet at the same time, so easy to figure out.
Which makes it even more complex and complicated in the difficult simplicity of his personality.

I panic because a lot of his own family and friends don't understand him.
Do not understand that his lack of physical/eye contact isn't a personal affront.
They don't understand how full his mind is. And how when it gets too full he bursts at the seams.

They don't understand that his desire to hide when entering a new social situation is not
because he doesn't want to see them, it's because his body processes commotion and change
much differently than the rest of us.

My heart still breaks for the kid, my kid, our kid
that many people will not get to know.
Because they leave his aloofness at the door and handle him at arm's length.
Simply because they just
don't understand or try to.
Or pretend to.
But we see the difference between true, genuine love and acceptance
and the feigned.
Parents can tell the difference.
And so can the kids.
He can tell.

And I just want to scream and cry and thrash on the floor and kick people in the shins
because it's just so unfair and damned frustrating.

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment - Tuesday Edition

2008-08-05T10:21:00.000-07:00

Sunday found us running around like well, crazy people.
We were preparing the house for a small gathering of family members
and just a few friends to help us celebrate
Connor and Gracie's birthday.

It was a picture-perfect day.
It was warm and breezy rather than
Delaware's famous hot and humid.

The kids had a great day and I think the adults did too.

So here is my song that I would have chosen.
Just two days late.

There is no story.
I just love the song.

Not Always an Easy Question

2008-07-28T18:49:00.000-07:00

Aliki asked me today: "How ARE you?"

This got me thinking about the nature of the question.
In most cases, it can be a pretty pedestrian question.
You could walk into an A&P and ask someone, "How are you?"
You would most likely get an, "I'm fine and you?" in return.
Most of the time, the question is asked without any real answer.
Most of the time, you ask the question and you don't want the answer.

I also know that I'm usually a caretaker-type personality.
I'm usually the one that people are coming to for help, advice, and guidance (in real life).
So rarely am I asked the question.

And that is OK.
Most of the time, I am OK.
There usually isn't much to tell.
I'm a pretty open book.

So, when I opened my gmail and saw the comment (in the form of an email) where Aliki asked the question, it made me smile. It made me stop for a moment and ask myself:
How ARE you?

Rather a simple question.
It shouldn't be hard to answer.
But it is.
Today it is. Well, sort of.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I made a lot of progress this past year letting go of the little girl who was screaming on the inside.
But she's back.
She's back after my mom told me that she is leaving my stepdad.
I'm a grown woman, I know.
But the way in which my mom does this knee-jerk reaction thing and well,
running
just brings back some memories which I thought were long dealt with.
On a less selfish, egotistical note
I'm thinking of the implications this will have on Connor and Gracie.

Rav & I have been dealing with a family issue which I really am not at liberty to discuss here.
While it has certainly taken its toll, it has only helped us to talk through some things and take stock.
The ripple effects are heartbreaking.

I'm going through yet another spiritual awakening of sorts and have
come to some realizations that are wonderful, scary, and comforting
all at once. I'd love to blog about this, but I don't know if it will ever come about.

The biggest thing is that, despite turmoil and stress, I'm staying even. I'm not hiding.
I'm good.

Rav and I are strong in our relationship. We have our days, like we all do. But I am so, so thankful for our solid relationship.
I realize how connected we are and how we are lucky to still have passion.

Ours isn't a perfect life.
Far from it.
But we've made it together.
We work hard at it.

And it's perfect for us.

So, to answer the question:
At the end of the day.
When my head hits the pillow
I am thankful.

And I am good.

4 Years and Several Pounds Ago

2008-07-22T12:52:00.000-07:00

I gave birth to Gracie.
On July 22, 2004.

My pregnancy caused great stress and I wondered how we would get through.
A double-blow was dealt when I found out that we were having a girl.
I wondered how.

How I would mother a girl.
I knew love and hugs would be involved. That's easy.
But it was all of that other stuff.

Needless to say, it's been fine.
Beyond fine.
I still struggle with the horror of horrors:
Princess crap.
I draw the line at tiaras and clothing with the words princess on it.
But she's a girl.
Through and through.

Despite being my daughter, she is my rock.
She has no idea that there are days when she is what is holding me together.
And I recognize that might not be good.
But all it takes is for her to smile or touch me.
And I know it will all be OK.

She is full of something that I will never possess.
She is what would happen if you mixed the very best parts of Rav and I
but only
made it better.
She is that fantabulous.

I love my daughter.
My girl.
Happy Birthday, my little lovely.

Here is your (latest) favorite song.
May you hold it close. And remember it is so true.

Words Worth

2008-07-10T15:42:00.000-07:00

I try to squeeze in all of my leisure reading during the summer.
During the academic year I'm too busy with my required reading to take the time to read for pleasure.
So with my impending (temporary) unemployment and my sojourn from school, I plowed into my first book of the summer.

I was ecstatic when I found out that my main man, David Sedaris, had a new book out. To be perfectly honest, I finished this 2 days after I got it. So that was about 3 or 4 weeks ago.
And he did not disappoint me. I know that he has hit his mark when I have to put the book down and just laugh.

Last night, I got to thinking (for some strange reason) about writers. In particularly sitcom and movie writers, as well as, David Sedaris, Garrison Keillor, Mo Willems and our very own OTJ, and Kevin Charnas. As well as personal favorites Maigh and Flutter.

See they have something that I will never possess.
The ability to write, a wicked sense of humor and the ability to find great humor in the mundane.
Nothing slays me more than a person who can demonstrate wit, cheek, and humor with a single and oft time simply constructed sentence.
And when I use the word "simply" I mean it in the sense that they use ordinary words.
They don't have to flash a $10,000 vocabulary. They don't have to bedazzle you with verbosity.
They just say it and
it's damned funny and thought provoking. Sometimes even emotional.

When I think about characters in fiction or those on TV, I found that I have a recurring attraction to those that are precocious. Being a person who is not all that witty and only sporadically funny, I feel drawn to someone who oozes those attributes so freely. As though through this person I can relate to the sense of humor and the thoughts that get trapped somewhere between my brain and my mouth.

I fantasize about a smoke-filled, over-caffeinated writer's room.
And imagine myself swirling about with my arms stretched wide open, being completely in awe at the wicked smart one-liners that fly about.
Or the banter and mundane events that inspire one another to construct dialogue that will later amuse millions.

I wonder about the process. If a writer walks into the writer's room and innocently shares a story - something that could only happen to them and it becomes fodder.
I wonder about the lives and the real-life characters and happenings that later become my amusement.
A line from a movie such as: "I've always been considered an asshole for as long as I can remember. It's just my style." - Royal Tenenbaum, how does that take shape? What was the inspiration? How do you sit down and come up with something so simple and funny?

The point is: I adore it.
I wish I had it.
And I don't. But that's OK.
I'm just glad that there are people out there that do.

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment

2008-07-06T06:45:00.000-07:00

I love me some Ray LaMontagne.
His voice goes straight through me and bewitches every cell, every pore.
I've said before that if I could sing (and if I were a man), I wish that I could sing like him.
Granted, this version isn't great. The album version is sublime.

This song between the artist, what the song is about, and those blessed horns is just the right concoction for a gal like me.
It's a mixture of my favorite things.
I crank this when I'm alone in the car and hit repeat.

Enjoy. He's my man.
But I'll let you borrow him for awhile ;)

Fathers and Daughters

2008-07-03T06:05:00.000-07:00

You all have sat through countless posts about time spent with Three Dog Night Dad
when I was a little girl and how those times were the happiest of my childhood.

Well since becoming involved in a mature, adult relationship
and transitioning into mommyhood
my dad and I have rarely spent time alone together.
We'd say with best of intentions that we needed to do it.
And well, you know how that goes.
All Cats and the Cradle and all.

This past weekend provided that opportunity
what with my younglings and man away in Massachusetts for a long weekend.
I packed myself a bag and a beach chair
and met my dad down at his beach cottage.

We sat together drinking a few cold ones and chatting.
And then we went out for a quality dinner together.
Upon entering the establishment we received a few sideways looks.
But I figured it's small-town Delaware, they probably don't appreciate a guy with long hair here.
And I shrugged it off.

Later on, after introducing my dad to some audio versions of David Sedaris, and a few rib-cracking laughs later, we were out walking around near a dock.
Again, we're just talking.
We look over to our left and there's a rowdy, good-natured group of locals who are red faced
and uber-smiling.
Good for them. I think to myself.
Then we hear:
Hey! Hey! Hey, lady!
I turn my head and say Yeah?
She replies with:
I dig your old man's beard!!
My dad and I smile and laugh.
We look at each other and my dad replies with
Uh. She's my daughter.
The lady's face becomes an even more pronounced shade of scarlett and apologizes.
I think that's when it hit me.
How often do you see an adult woman spending time alone with her dad?

I was OK with this.
I have no problems spending time with my dad.
But I think once girls hit a certain age, you just rarely see it.
Maybe I'm wrong or maybe my little state just isn't that progressive yet.
It just hit me as kind of sad.

May The Farm Be With You

2008-07-02T09:40:00.000-07:00

Someone sent this to me today & it's just too good.

Dirt Between Our Toes & Nobody Knows

2008-06-30T06:43:00.000-07:00

I'm sure with inconsistent posts and barely getting by to read any of yours
I barely have a readership.
It is what it is.
You get what you put into things.

And lately my focus has been on reconnecting with kids I barely saw over the fall and winter.
Painting the boudoir of a young couple who has been married for 5 years, had 2 kids, and one messy, stark white, room (that would be Rav & I).

We've been outside.
Hiking, playing, getting dirty.
Sometimes dinner has only consisted of an ice cream cone.
It's been a few, sweet weeks of simple luxuries.
Like ice cream for dinner.
Vegetables?
Oh, we had those last week.
Fruit?
The week before last.
I kid about that.
My kids are eating fine.

A day or two goes by and I realize that we're dirty.
Dirty from play and grass and sweat.
But it's good.
Cleansing even.

I've hitched up the bike trailer to my bike
and the kids and I have headed out with a packed lunch
to our local park.

We've hit fairs, ridden rides, and spent more time together in the past few weeks than
we have in what seems to be the last few years.

We spent the night at the beach with Three Dog Night Dad and Eileen.
We've put our toes in The Atlantic and been covered in sand.

Last night the kids and Rav arrived home after spending 4 days in Massachusetts
sans Mommy.

All the while, we see Connor falling back into old, familiar, anxiety-ridden territory.
And we're tired.
Our family is busting out of this house and desperately wants to spread its wings.
We don't know where or how we'll get there.
Change isn't even on the horizon.
We just feel the itch.

My Latest Obsession

2008-06-11T13:27:00.000-07:00

I know I've been sparce.
Beautiful weather has been beckoning the famiglia de Ravioli outside.
And I'm weak.
I'm a sucker for warm, sunny days.
And the smell of Water Babies sunblock on my kids' rounded arms.
All while I hold a sweaty glass bottle in my hand and throw my head back to wash the
cold adult beverage down my dry throat.
This song goes well with all of that.

Cape Cod Kwasaa Kwasaa by Vampire Weekend

How Long, Not Long

2008-05-28T16:00:00.000-07:00

This weekend found us staying close to home.
We had made some plans to do some party hopping.
But the universe had other plans for us.
More in particularly - me.

I couldn't venture far away from the cold, hard comfort
of a certain...commode.
I'll leave it at that.
Just as well.
I could certainly use the money rather than dump into our huge, ginormous gas tank, which in turn dumps the remains into the air and in turn also makes greedy men fatter.

Which turns me to the point of this post.

Most of my time was spent in the bathroom - like you need to hear this, I know.
I'm just keepin' it real.
And an article on the front page of our paper highlighted how "survivalists" are turning inward, growing their own crops, and arming themselves for the insurrection to come.
I'll admit, that our paper isn't a great one.
But it's what we have and so I read it - from time to time - mainly when I want a good chuckle.
However, this article captivated me.
As I began to read it, I began to panic.
These "survivalists" as they are being called are buying "homesteads" and learning to grow all of their own food, plant fruit trees, depend less on oil (none of this sounds bad), and making sure they are armed to fend off mobs of hungry, homeless, starving people that will be moving in masses to find food.

I know how bad things are. Or at least, I think I know.
But it got me thinking about the countless Americans out there,
shuffling through their day to day.
Life as usual.
Despite the state that we are in.
Scenes and dialogue from The Grapes of Wrath began to pop into my head.
Where everyone is bewildered, naive, and in denial about the state of how things truly are.

And I wonder if we - as a nation - are there.
People are losing houses.
They are packing up and moving...
Where?
And they get handed a government check.
"See now. Doesn't that make it all better?"
It reminds me of the countless flyers passed around in the book.
A promise of better things to come.

Then I wonder if the article did exactly what it was intended to do.
Scare me.
Manipulate me.
At the very least though, it got me thinking.

I do know this though.
Things are probably a hell of a lot worse than we think or think we know.

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment - Tuesday Edition

2008-05-20T13:49:00.000-07:00

Last summer, we visited some of Rav's relatives who reside outside of Baltimore - around the Towson-ish area. His cousin works at The Merriweather.
My eyes widened and we began to talk about some of the better shows he had seen up to that point in the concert season and what he enjoys listening to.
What an occupational hazard - seeing so many concerts. For free.
Anyway, he told me that Wilco's show just a few days before was outstanding and played the CD for us while we ate crabs and threw back some cold ones.

When I pop in my Wilco CD I instantly think of that day. On a porch somewhere in Maryland. I can see Rav's cousin's face looking at me - soaking in the music. And I knew exactly how he felt. I can remember the way the air smelled and how at ease I was in that very moment to be talking to him about music and watching him enjoy it. That is the only time I really feel at ease - feel like myself - my complete, whole self. When listening to music.

Anyway, I've been listening to this CD since last summer and this song really hit me hard the other day. It's like after all of this time I heard it for the first time and it finally made sense. Almost like when you're learning a new language and you can finally read and comprehend something on your own. Much to your surprise and delight.

So, go. Enjoy this song and sorry about the long-winded explanation.
Sky Blue Sky by Wilco

Happy Mother's Day by Rav

2008-05-11T15:36:00.001-07:00

It is a little late, but I would like to say Happy Mother's Day to all out there to whom it applies. Today, we, the Raviolis, spent the day much like any other sunday. Our grand plan to go out to breakfast was smashed, as many of our plans are, by the greedy bill collector. Add to that the fact that, like most of America, we are slowly drowning. It has been hard on Tab and I, keeping this ship afloat. At times, it seemed as if it was more than we could take. And everytime we seem to get to a place where things are better, the world turns upside down again. No matter what happens though, I find that the struggle makes us stronger and our love grows. Even when it seems as if universe wants to tear us asunder, we manage to fight through. Happy Mother's Day Tabba. I love you. "When the storm comes, you shelter me..."

I Haven't Been Sick All Winter...

2008-05-07T11:45:00.000-07:00

And then May comes with 70+ degree weather.
The sun is shining.
It's beautiful.

And I'm sick as a dog.

Whatever.

Hurry up....browse away from here before you catch it!

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment

2008-05-04T05:44:00.000-07:00

Sitting around this winter, spending way too much time in front of the tele, I became obsessed with a little snippet of a song I heard on the new commercial for the slimmed-down version of Apple's iBook.
I would wait by the TV and hope that the commercial would come on just so I could hear 30 seconds of the song.
I didn't know what it was, I didn't know who sang it. I just knew I loved it.
I thought to myself, "That song makes me want to rush out and buy an iBook." Those smart people at Apple. Needless to say, I didn't buy an iBook. However, one lonely evening with my kids in bed early, Rav hard at work, I diligently sat down to my dial-up connection and began my quest.
After much groaning which was had by myself and my computer, I found that song.
I promptly downloaded it & have been happily listening to it since.
This morning, I found it on Youtube and got goosebumps after watching the video for the first time.
So now that I have built this song up to impossible expectations, I will share it with you.
Many of you probably have heard it already. Especially if you watched a lot of TV over the long, cold winter.
But here she goes anyway....

New Soul by Yael Naim

Extreme Makeover - Blog Edition

2008-05-03T05:03:00.000-07:00

For the past few months, I've been wanting to change the look around here.
But I figured I'd let it go until I could actually load a page on something higher than a 24k dial-up connection.

I get bored easily.
I like to change and evolve.
My immediate surroundings have a major impact on my moods and feelings.
And I'm so over the color-scheme and look of this here blog.

So, I put it to you....
Have any ideas for a color scheme?
How about a picture idea for the header or whatever its called?
Oh, and "Mrs. Incredible" has to go....should it just be TABBA?

Please...let the ideas fly.
I think if we all put our creative .02 in the pot we might be able to come up with something on the cusp of fantabulous.

Edited:
this is what i have come up with so far. if you have any suggestions or constructive criticism, please feel free...

Out Of The Ashes

2008-04-30T17:02:00.000-07:00

I like to play coy and say that in the past few months of my absence nothing has happened.
Well, nothing that merits you taking a few minutes out of your busy day to read, anyway.

I got to the point where I would sit in front of the screen and think to myself, "What is the point? Hasn't it all been said and done before? What could I possibly say that is so unique? I've told all of the stories that there are to tell."
That hit me really hard.
The possibility of an actual depth to my soul that I thought I possessed was nothing than barely a shallow pool of a personality and life experience.

Life ran away with me on its back and all I could do was hang on. Let the school work take its toll, daily survival played its mundane tune, and I went to bed with the weight of good intentions laying in my chest.

So many times during the days and weeks my mind would drift to you.
Thinking, wondering, missing.
And hoping.
Certain lines that you have written or comments would pop into my head and I would smile.

Blogging, writing, commenting left a big void.

But while nothing much was going on - domestically speaking - I have been transforming.
I needed to unplug.
I am still morphing, I'm sure that the journey is not complete.
And one day, may I will be able to tell you of white light, and sweat lodges, incense, stones, cats, meditations, and visions.
Some of it will sound crazy, I'm sure.
And that is OK.
I am certainly not hear to convince anyone of anything.
I will share them as an attempt to sort out this spiritual awakening I have had, to look back on it and watch the pieces fall into place.

What Now

2008-04-29T12:06:00.001-07:00

I sit here and look at blogger pages and think to myself, "How do I...?", "What do I....?"

I scratch my head, not sure what the proper protocol is.

I'm back in the saddle - electronically speaking - and yet I still don't know what to do.
As of last night I had 611 new items in my Reader. How do I even begin reading all of that? Do I post first, read first, then post? I don't know what to do after such a long absence. I'm making my rounds - trying to catch up. When I'm over your way, I'll probably say 'HI'. Not on every post, but some.

So let me know dear lovelies, how do I even begin this thing again?

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment

2008-04-27T06:49:00.000-07:00

This about sums up it.

School is done for the year.

And we have our DSL back up and running.

Elementary, My Dear Watson

2008-03-26T06:03:00.000-07:00

Here's a question or two for you:

Why is someone who considers every human being truly equal considered "fringe" or "radical"?

Why is something we are taught in preschool and/or kindergarten - that everyone is the same and that we should treat everyone nicely and with kindness - thrown out the window at a certain point?

As Time Goes By

2008-03-25T05:42:00.000-07:00

Well yet another month+ has rolled on past and I let the blogging ball drop.....again.

In an attempt to scale back spending in these rocky times I don't know when Rav & I will be opting for high-speed again. So I will have to be content to live in the dark ages of dial-up for now. And I do have to say that dialing up has really taken the wind out of my sales in regards to blogging.

I'm home on Easter vacation with the kids this week and figured I'd pop in and out and maybe update this sad little blog.
For those of you who are still interested in what is going on with me, I'll fill you in:

* In February, I received my Reiki II attunement (which is what I think brought about the last post). It was a very intense process and one that I'm happy I went through with. So now I am trying to get my hands on anyone who will let me and trying to figure out a way that I can give people who need healing a little reiki. Rav & I are working out the details.
So...if you know anyone in the Mid-Atlantic who could use a little reiki lift be sure to send them my way ;)

* School is going and I'm trying my best to hang with it. I'm still enjoying it and it is certainly doing it's part to feed my hungry heart (which never seems to get enough knowledge/learning). My plate is just very full and I'm working on trying to remain balanced. The reading I have to undertake for the class I am currently taking is killer and I am a notoriously slow reader.

* Preschool is keeping me insanely busy for a part-time gig. But that will be ending in May until the next school year....I'm looking forward to the break.

* Kids. The kids. Oh yes, my crazy kids. They're slowly and methodically beating me down and killing me. But then, that is their job, right?

* We bought new living room furniture. Our old set was a third-time hand-me-down and I couldn't take it anymore. It was gross and faded and I didn't even like sitting in our livingroom anymore because of it. We found a great deal on a new set, paid cash, and have been happy little clams ever since.
Exciting stuff, huh? Aren't you glad you're reading this riveting stuff?

So that is the update as I can think of it.
I will try to be more on top of my little space here. As I do miss it and all of you out here.

Fear

2008-02-21T12:06:00.000-08:00

I thought I knew what it was.
I mean, what it really was.
Looking back, I see that I was a fool and that I had very little understanding of the true meaning of the word.
I was a fool to think that the pounding in my chest and the wide-eyed, deer-in-head-lights look equaled fear.
I thought that the whole numb feeling in my limbs was a sign that I was truly afraid.
Afraid, for instance, to be alone in the dark, afraid of what it meant to have a step-parent, afraid of a sub-standard test grade and what consequences were in store when I would come home from school, afraid of being found out.
At the time, it seemed legitimate.
Now I know better.

Something I read brought the visuals back to me.
Reminded me of my fear of losing him - losing either one of them.
It once was a distant thought. Just out of my reach. Something I never thought I'd have to face.
But the fact that one day, he came so close to being gone, rocks me to my core.
The words I read - words belonging to someone else - brought back the images I thought I had somehow managed to forget.
How naive and egotistical of me to think that?
How could I possibly forget?

How could I, his mother, forget that I turned my back, or that I was that stupid, that I would take such a chance with something so precious?

Why on Earth would I think, for a second, that I would be able to block out of my mind the look on his face - the fear and desperation in his eyes?
Or worse yet - what he was probably thinking, during those water-filled moments.
Things like Why is it taking so long? When will she notice that I am submerged and come over and get me?
I imagine that those moments must have felt like an eternity to him.

Is that part of our mother-son bond now?
The fact that we both now know what fear really means?
If so, it is not a glowing testament on my part, as a mother.

I wonder if that is the day my creativity, my words, got left at the side of the pool?
Because looking back, I haven't been the same since that day.
I even feel silly saying that, because I - we - were blessed with a happy ending.
But the guilt, the images, the fear just won't go away.

Writing about this makes me feel guilty.
Self-absorbed
and even throw in a dash of
self-pity.

I feel like writing it out like this, makes it sound as if it is all about me, how I feel, how I can't shake the images that repeat themselves in my mind's eye. How terrified they make me feel. Even now that it has been almost 8 months ago...It's a vicious mental cycle I am in.
Shouldn't it be about him?

I guess I just want him to know I'm better than that horrific moment in our history.
I guess I just want to know I'm better than that horrific moment in our history.

Sad State of Affairs

2008-02-19T15:53:00.000-08:00

It has been one month since I have posted anything.
One.Whole.Month.

And that's just posting.
Nevermind reading.
Reading a post?
What in blue blazes could that be?

I feel like I am letting you all down.
Like I have you on a yo-yo.
Such was not my intention.

But dial-up with a 22K connection?
Uh, fecking sucks. yes, I said fecking.
Reading with same said connection?
BRUTAL.

To be honest, I cannot even remember when the last time I signed on the computer here at home.
And this just touches on the computer issue.
Which is the major issue.
I mean, MAJOR.

I miss you all.
I do.
You too Phenom.
I got your email.
I'm here.
I'm alive and well.
I just cannot stomach the internet with a connection that moves slower than molasses in Canada in January.

I'm thinking of you all.
Missing you all.
And feeling much like a cavewoman.

The Things They Leave Behind #2

2008-01-19T15:21:00.000-08:00

So, this is it. The only arrowhead that I've ever found.

I asked my dad, the last time I spoke to him if he "planted it" for me to find.
Which he emphatically denies.
I was quite relieved.
I mean, that would be sweet and all. But I'm glad it came to me own it's own.

The story about finding it came back to me at Christmas. My dad, Eileen, and my brothers came over on Christmas Eve....

Being adults (and I use that term loosely), Rav & I don't expect much from anyone for Christmas.
However, I know that I'm always in for it with my dad. He usually throws something emotional at me.
So, this year he hands me a box. And they specifically held this box back for me to open. Rav & I opened our Soprano's Family Cookbook, our assortment of gourmet cooking sauces and such. But this gift was held back.

We finally finished opening and the gift was handed over to me.
To be honest, I was scared.
Scared of having an emotional outburst.
I open it and inside of the box is a small shadow box.
And inside of the shadow box on batting, my dad arranged various of his artifacts from The Farm.
A handmade marble, a thimble, old buttons, pieces of pottery, various small tools - similar to arrowheads.
I was shocked and stunned.
Such a beautiful, heartfelt gift.
Probably one of the best I've ever received.
Receiving such a gift, kick-started my brain and reminded me of the arrowhead and the story, which I retold later that evening.

I probably could do this post and my dad/the gift better justice.
But the gift touched me so that I cannot find the words.
All I can say is that I look at it everyday and smile.
Just smile.

Getting On & Off The Wheel

2008-01-14T10:00:00.000-08:00

In another life, he might not have had so many run-ins with the po'-po' (= the police).
But he was a young man and if you ask him he would have said that all of it was in good fun. He didn't mean any harm.

In another life, he might not have had to do a tour in 'Nam.
Only to come back broken, haunted, demonized by memories.
Some of which, left him wondering what happened to 9 months of his life over there.
It's probably for the best that he doesn't remember.

In another life, he might not have had to work for gangs to make a living.
Throwing dynamite at people's houses to persuade them to pay up.
He was just doing his job so that he could eat.

In another life, he might not have had the stuffings beat out of him when he said he was
done with the lifestyle and wanted to lead a straight life.

In another life, the woman he loved might have stayed.
She might have stayed to see the child grow.
The child that he helped make with her.
But she had other fish to fry.

So this wounded, lost man stepped up to the plate.
And he lived for this boy.
This boy was his life.
He picked up and carried on after she left.

In another life, he might not have been a friend/co-worker of my dad's.
This rough, sweet, loyal man.
My dad can be a magnet for lost souls that way.
The two were instant friends.
And that was a lifetime ago....that my dad and he whooped it up everyday at work.

In another life, this man's mobile home might not have exploded in the middle of the night.
Burning himself and his son.
In another life, the son had no burns on the lower portion of his body.
And in another life, the only family he has to speak of is not laying in a hospital 1 1/2 hours away, in critical condition - most of his body covered in burns, and breathing by way of machines.

But that is life.
Those things did happen.
And I am left wondering if my dad's old friend is getting off the wheel finally. He has lived through so much.
If he is letting the suffering of this life go.
I am left wondering what will happen to the boy - the 15 year old boy - who is on the brink of losing everything.
The man who lived for him after living through so much.

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment

2008-01-13T07:48:00.000-08:00

Serena Ryder opened for Paolo Nutini when we saw him in concert in October. Rav & I have been hooked ever since.

Today's pick is: Weak In The Knees by Serena Ryder.
If you listen carefully, you may hear Gracie even singing along, coming to you from the East Coast.

And Magpie, in answer to your question....you'll find out this week.

Phenom: we watched Stripes now I know what you were talking about :)

Have a great Sunday everyone. And I hope you enjoy the song.

The Things They Leave Behind - #1

2008-01-09T13:40:00.000-08:00

When my dad was young and living on The Farm, he would spend most of his time outdoors.
In the Fall and early Winter, he would spend time hunting.
In the Spring and Summer, he would spend time fishing and walking the fields.

For many years, my dad had built a collection of Indian Arrowheads, pipes, pieces of pottery, and the like from his time spent scouring.
There seemed to be one spot in particular that was a hot bed for lost things.

My dad's collection became quite large of these forgotten artifacts of another time.
Many exquisite arrowheads of many different colors, pieces of pottery, even teeth.
Lots of them.
(He didn't tell me about this until a month ago.)
In fact, he had found such an exquisite piece - a rather large and perfect arrowhead - he donated it to a museum in our state where it was on display until my early childhood. Where it is now, who knows.
Anyway...
Time slipped away, the young boy became a young man and an even younger father.
This hobby of his fell by the wayside.

I remember being a young girl and sitting with my dad for countless hours (willingly) examining arrowheads and other pieces of hardened, ancient earth that he had found.
He would tell me the story behind each piece and I would sit transfixed by what these were.
Small little bits of history that my dad had unearthed on The Farm.
I would very selfishly ask if I could have them.
And he told me one day, they would be mine.

As I got older, dad & I would walk the fields together.
Examining deer prints or other animal tracks.
Talking about the migratory patterns of geese and other winter-time escapees.
We would both walk and talk with our heads down.
Searching the ground for any piece that wanted to be found.

At age 11, I began getting really pissed off and utterly frustrated that I had never found anything.
As dad & I walked the fields, I said You know, all of this time you and I have been out here, looking, searching, and nothing. You have cases and cases full of arrowheads. Do you think you found them all? Do you think there are any left? I can't believe I haven't found one!
I looked down at my feet and there it was.
The one and only arrowhead that I have ever found.

2008-01-07T11:35:00.000-08:00

On Christmas, we headed for home from my mother's house after a long, busy day.
The kids were spent and so were we.
Rav & I each have a kid to buckle in and as we do so, Gracie asks me if Santa is coming to our house tonight for more presents.
No, honey. Santa is not coming tonight. Christmas is all done until next year.
These attempts at explaining are futile.
And the look on he face punctuates that.
She is crestfallen.
Maybe even a little depressed.

I remember that feeling.
Though I didn't feel it until I was about 11.
I remember saying to my Dad that the day after Christmas is pretty depressing.
After talking with him about it, I processed it. Made my peace with it as best I could.
However, seeing this realization was over my three-year-old's face has hit me rather hard.
She is over it. She is not asking about it anymore. But seeing her like that broke my heart into a million pieces.

Today was Connor's first day back to school.
Today marks the start of the first full week back to work after the holiday madness.
Today is the start of my classes for the Spring semester.
And it's back to the way we were.
Back to racing around in the morning looking for a matching set of socks.
Back to making sure the kids have breakfast, while my hair is air drying, half-dressed, wild-eyed, and maniacal.
Back to cramming a waffle or 1/4 of a bowl of cereal into my mouth as I run out the door.
Back to racing around trying to make sure we all get to where we need to go. On time.

These mundane rituals signify that, compared to many, we have it good.
I'm trying to remember that as I am dialing up with a 24K connection because our DSL is down.
I'm trying to remember that as I am already obsessing about school work after downloading a 30 page syllabus and wondering how I will balance again. Balance it all.

All while I do this, people are suffering, many of whom are invisible and on the margins.
People are living lives and having babies and losing loved ones and fleeing from erupting volcanoes, losing their belongings in floods, working for nothing, living on nothing, and having babies in shelters in foreign countries.

I keep hearing about this crazy notion of change.
In fact, I'm quite sick of it.
I feel like it's going to turn into this hip, mod, in-thing to say.
Yeah, it will turn into this thing to
say.

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment by Rav, sort of...

2008-01-06T06:44:00.000-08:00

Tab had to run out so she left me the duty of posting this. Today's song is Tonight You Belong to Me. This song is an oldie. Some may remember that Steve Martin and Bernadette Peters sang it in movie, The Jerk. I didn't, I just read that on YouTube. Anyway, this version is by Josh Ritter and Erin McKeown. We love it, and I bet that you will too. Enough rambling. Listen to this already...

A Quick Aside

2008-01-03T10:40:00.001-08:00

Just to let you all know...
We are having major internet issues.
I'm trying to get caught up on all of you via Google Reader and I drop comments here and there. But until our internet "stuff" gets sorted out and until I get all caught up on reading, my comments might be scarce.

Just thought I'd let you know what the deal is.

And I Think To Myself

2008-01-02T16:15:00.000-08:00

The past month or so, I've been doing a lot of reflecting.
And as many of you are probably doing, I am reflecting on the year, my conduct and progress or lack thereof in 2007, etc.

I'm of the mindset that resolutions are pretty lame.
In fact, as I was watching the Today show this morning, I began getting just a tad bit annoyed.
I began thinking about this cycle of unrealistic expectations and inevitable let-downs.
The pieces of spirit that can become broken and left to feel like a failure because
perhaps it didn't quite shave the body down to some ridiculous notion of what beauty or proper weight should be.
Maybe having a cluttered home really is the sign of a happy home and not having a closet that looks like it was ripped out of Posh's house isn't the sign of a failure.
Maybe driving a Honda or a Hyundai rather than a BMW or a Bentley is OK.
I don't know. I mean, there is more than one way up the mountain. I just think resolutions are a set-up for failure and shouldn't we be doing something to feel better about ourselves and each other?

As I've been reflecting on the past year and such, I was thinking about simplicity.
How it is the teeniest of acts that really do start a movement.
Whether that movement be within society or simply within someone else's heart.
That in one way or another we all have the capacity to do this, we just try to make it seem so hard as a way to justify being asses to each other.
An experience I had the other day, finally made the lightbulb go on.

You all know, that have been reading for a time, that I truly try to make it a point to let others know I care. Sometimes it is misconstrued, sometimes it is seen for what it is.
Sometimes I care so much that I become immobilized. It's almost more than I can bear to do or to speak. I become so overwhelmed, so full.

Anyway, I've noticed that opportunities have not presented themselves in "grand" ways for me to extend my hand.
And in fact, I had become quite irritated because I thought I had fallen off the giving train.
That people were not being sent my way for a reason (if that makes any sense).
And the giving of myself feels better.
It feels awful when I am not.

I've been making it a point lately to look directly at people when I am out walking.
And not only that
but to smile at them.
Possibly even say "hello" or "good morning".
Whatever feeling presents itself is what I will do.
(this paragraph makes me sound like a grump. i keep picturing in my head old man Potter from It's A Wonderful Life. I truly don't believe I walked around like that before. I just went about my business like a million other worker ants.
So I've been making this effort, which brings me to the point.....are you shocked that there was one?)

I was on the phone with my academic institution to ask a question the other day. A lady was assisting me with my question and was most helpful. As the call ended, I simply said to her Have a good day.
Pretty innocent. Pretty pedestrian.
I didn't say to her I have the address and phone number to Beckham's house. He's waiting for your call.
I didn't say Oh, I happen to have this extra $1M sitting in my back pocket. Want it?
I simply said Have a good day.
And there was a reaction.
A reaction of shock.
A reaction of pleasant surprise at such an utterance.
(Now listen, I'm not claiming to be this wonderful, always do-gooder.
I know this tale of human interaction is one that could be told a thousand times a day by a thousand other writers who could write it in a more brilliant way. I am simply sharing this experience and the shock of it with you. Sharing it from me, Mrs. Incredible (Tabba) to you, lovely reader.)

I hung up the phone feeling glad that she got off the phone with me in such a way.
And a little sad too.

Sad because it sounded as if she had never heard it before.
How is it that we are so 'busy', so clinical with each other?

I am hopeful though.
Hopeful that things will get better.
Hopeful that maybe if we all could take these resolutions and maybe cram them up - er, that's not nice, T.
(try again)
OK.
Hopeful that maybe rather than worry about driving a car that costs as much as it would to feed a small nation or injecting foreign materials into our faces, or hell worrying about the pile of papers that cram your credenza, desk, and sock drawer
we could just take the time to say
Have a good day.
And smile.
Maybe say hello or good morning.

It sounds idealistic.
I know.
But it makes a difference.

Emerging From Underneath Of The Rock

2007-12-31T05:35:00.000-08:00

Hello, all. If anyone still pops in over this way after almost a month of silence.
I hope that your holiday(s) were well for you all and that 2008 brings you much peace and happiness.

I've missed you all while I was away.
I often found my thoughts drifting to you.
Wondering what new topics were lighting the fires inside of your minds.
What new personal perils or triumphs you were sharing.

My intention with the "shutting down" of this little blog was to spend time reading all of you more.
However, I needed to cut myself off completely.
I peeked in from time to time, but I had to step away.
I found that the amount of pressure I put upon myself to write quality posts, to read, and respond eloquently was more than my feeble mind could handle.
Not to mention I was in the middle of a breakthrough of sorts.
Couple that with the impending holiday, classes winding down, a part-time job that I take way too seriously, and a family to be here for.
Despite being a Libra, I was having immense trouble juggling it all.

All of that being said, I feel that it is time to come back.
To mingle with you all, to be a part again.
My mind feels clear and my heart wide open.

I'm probably not picking a great day to return as it is the eve of yet another holiday, but that's just how I roll.

So again, have a wonderful New Year. Be safe, be well, go easy.
I can't wait to see what all of you have been up to!

The End or Simply The Beginning

2007-12-03T18:43:00.000-08:00

Wow.
Wow.
I can't believe how I have fallen off here.
Fallen off of reading.
Fallen off of writing.

I recently heard myself saying to myself that there simply just isn't enough time.
But myself said back to myself that this is simply an excuse.
That if I really wanted to, I would find a way.

I don't want this to end.
But I don't have anything right now.
So I think a hiatus is in order.

Next week is my last class and the holidays are approaching (who would have noticed? like you need me to point that out!) and I will be on vaca from my little munchkins at the preschool.
Big things have been brewing with me on a spiritual level.
It is something so big I need time to reflect upon it.
This silence of mine has been purely mindful, somewhat meditative, and mostly reflective.
I've been thinking of you all and sending thoughts to you all out into the cosmos and hope that they make their way to you.

I think I may take this time to silence this here space and read what you all have to say.
As I have missed so much.
I may post a song or two.
Maybe a quote or a quick little story.
Otherwise I am silent and will let it flow when it is ready to flow again.

'Til then.
I'll see you.

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment

2007-11-27T10:40:00.000-08:00

Are you totally confused yet?

Yeah, I'm cheating.
Today is Tuesday & I'm posting my song today.

We had some unforeseen stuff go down this weekend & it could not be helped that Sunday got pushed back to Tuesday.
Eh. Sometimes you just gotta roll with it.

I'm taking 10 minutes for myself to quickly check in on some of my old haunts out here.
I miss it.
I miss you all & the window(s) in which you allow me to peek inside of your funny, zany, happy, silly, sometimes chaotic, crazy, sometimes emotional, normal lives.
I'm finding it very hard to balance everything right now.

Anyway....I started reading a post on Phenom's blog & the song that I wanted to share two days ago popped into my head.
So I said f*ck it.
I'll share it today.
Pretend for a minute, if you will, that it is a lazy Sunday morning.
Close your eyes and just pretend.
Listen to the song & let it take you away for a moment.
Go on.
Do it.
Go ahead.
It'll do you some good.

Quiet Town by Josh Rouse

Two Cool Dude-ettes

2007-11-26T19:18:00.000-08:00

This is for Jen & KC.

I am way in no way promoting the consumption of Bud Light.
I saw this last night & instantly thought of these two blogger-gals.

I'm hoping to be 'round the way soon.
I got writer's block & reader's block.
But you're all still my peeps!

Have It Or You Don't?

2007-11-21T03:52:00.000-08:00

Compassion.

This question has been rattling around my brain for a few weeks now & it keeps popping up in unlikely places.

It first came to me as a topic for much heated internal dialogue, after Connor's conference.
(because I'm oh-so neurotic and analytical like that).
His teacher asked us what qualities we like most about Connor.
My answer was his heart - his compassion.
And his teacher agreed and then she said:
That's something you either have or you don't.

I thought this most interesting of a statement.
And quite honestly, it's not something that I ever stopped to really think about before.
It may be elementary, but I've missed out on many things/thoughts that are elementary.

I haven't missed out on it for lack of having it.
That is one thing I can easily say about myself - I am compassionate.
Probably to a fault.

But the idea that people are out there, walking around right now, with no ability or chance of ever having compassion boggles my mind.

I've heard the ever popular
that's how you have sociopaths.

Agreed. I understand that is what makes them so.
But my mind wanders to the possibility that there is more than the lack of compassion at work there.
That the lack of it is a symptom (for lack of a better word).

My bleeding heart self feels that everyone is born with some semblance of compassion, but it is our context, or our nurture, that helps to foster it.
And maybe that is simply just an idealistic way of looking at it.
From the informal "data" that I have collected thus far, I seem to be the only one who thinks this.

I look at my kids - who clearly have compassion for others - and wonder if it is something they have simply learned. And then I wonder how? They have not seen me hand umbrellas out to strangers on a rainy day, they have not been with me when I have handed food out to a stranger.
I realize my compassion extends farther than these two scenarios.
But I wonder if they already had it - and we simply foster it.
Or if it is a completely learned quality/value?

So what say all of you out there?
Do you think compassion is something you either have or you don't?

These Will Have To Do

2007-11-20T16:29:00.000-08:00

Here are just some random images I thought I would share.
Because right now, my mind is too empty and too full.
If that makes any kind of sense.

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment

2007-11-18T06:03:00.000-08:00

I've had a song simmering on the backburner for a few weeks and decided this week would be the week to share it.

Then, oh no, I had to be reminded of this video and since I had not seen it in awhile, figured I'd share it instead.

Last Monday, in my Topics class (Western Psych. vs. Buddhism - or vice versa), my instructor was trying to drive the point home about self/not-self. For us Westerners this is a complex, difficult ideology to grasp. So he showed us a short film based on a short-story by Kurt Vonnegut. In it were two young actors - a wiley, geeky looking Christopher Walken and an adolescent-looking Susan Sarandon.
After the film two of my classmates & I (who seem inexplicably drawn to each other) began professing our great love for Walken.
I brought up the Fatboy Slim video Weapon of Choice.
And we collectively began discussing how each of us couldn't believe it was him when we first saw that video years ago.

So that is my shared song today.
Weapon of Choice by Fatboy Slim.
Won't you join me in paying homage to Walken.
All hail, Walken.

Jug-gernaut

2007-11-14T16:45:00.000-08:00

Early Tuesday morning and I am getting dressed slowly, wearily.
That three day weekend we just had went way too fast.

I'm in a trance-like state.
My eyes are open.
It looks as if I am watching the Today show while I slide on my jeans
and look from left to right as I find my shirt.
But I'm not yet awake.

The kids flutter about.
In and out of the room.
Here and there.
Up and down.
Under foot, over foot.

They are entirely too alert for this ungodly hour
and their presence of mind is just beginning to piss me off when I hear...

Hey, Mom! Look! I just found a really cool catapult.

I groggily turn from the TV to the floor where my eldest sits. As he holds his latest prized possession in his hands. He's moving it all about, trying to figure out how to get it to work.
I begin to chuckle despite myself and I reply with...

That's not a catapult, Connor. That is mommy's bra. Can I please have it so I can finish getting dressed?

He was crestfallen that I had just taken away his means of entertainment.
I'm not sure how I feel about wearing something that he considers large enough to call a catapult.

Sunday (Morning) Song of the Moment

2007-11-11T11:08:00.000-08:00

No words today.
Not really.

They're....
Creepin' In by Norah Jones feat. Dolly Parton

Got any music suggestions to share with me? Drop 'em in the comments.
I'm on the prowl for sumpin' new.

Dreams and Wishes From The Past

2007-11-09T11:21:00.000-08:00

I had my 2nd reiki treatment last night.
The session was interesting & I can't wait to share it.

But first I had to get a few other thoughts out.
The first thing is that I wanted to share that I wrote a little card to *E's* mom.
And it was well received.
I'll leave it at that for now.

Last night before and after my treatment I met up with my stepmom for some girly talk.
And after we were finished - quite honestly we probably could have chatted all night long - I stopped in to see my dad and brothers. It wasn't a long visit. But it was enough. In a good way.

I was sharing with my dad the details of my reiki treatment and something came to him and he walked away.
He came back with a box.
And inside the box was a violin.
An old violin.
In pieces.

He began telling me how this violin was my grandfather's (his father). And he loved this violin. He thought it was "something".
My dad took it to a musician in a local city to find out about it and to inquire about getting it put back together.
Sadly (or not so sadly), the violin is "nothing" in terms of monetary value and it would cost more to put it back to rights than to buy a nice, quality new one.

As my dad was telling me about it, I began salivating.
And felt bad despite myself.
I felt like a wolf, hungry for the kill.
I felt horrible for being so overtaken with thoughts like Give it to me!! Drop it, sucker. Hand me the box and no one gets hurt!!!
I somehow managed to get ahold of myself.

See, for as long as I remember I've wanted to learn how to play the Violin. And to see this in front me of me was almost too much to handle....the thought of playing Violin - his violin - clouded any ounce of good judgement I had.
I never have understand why I wanted to play. Because my passion has always been the Saxophone (and percussion, although I've never played percussion instruments).
Something has always drawn me to the Violin.

I had no idea until last night that my grandfather used to play.

My dad finished his story about the poor, dime-store violin.
And then he said
I'm going to have a little ceremony and I'm going to burn it.

I gasped.
My eyes in wide horror.
WHY????????

He said I'm going to burn it and take it down to Dad. Maybe if we all get together on the weekend of Thanksgiving we'll burn it then since we all will be together.

My grandfather apparently had much love for this 1920s Montgomery Ward Violin - that he bought 2nd hand and thought was "something".
And my dad is doing the right thing by his Dad.
It should be with him where he rests.

I left their house a little less selfish.
Happy that it will be returned to its rightful owner
and that since I've never met my grandfather and always longed for some physical connection, content in the fact that maybe I got this desire to play from him.

Confessions From A Not-So-New Mom

2007-11-08T11:36:00.000-08:00

I have a little girl in my three-year-old preschool class.
Let's call her *E*.
*E* is a darling girl.
She is bright and full of personality.

I have quickly picked up on a few things that a seasoned teacher or a parent who has experienced certain things will pick up.
For example, certain behaviors that I associate with some of Connor's sensory issues.
And a few little other quirky things that are rather telling.

She is around the same age as Gracie and *E* is already on her way to becoming a paleontologist.
She's just flat-out bright.

I really like *E's* mom.
She's easy to talk to and seems down-to-earth.
We've had casual conversations about our kids.
I've told her about some of my observations and we share stories and knowledge.

But I think she is struggling.
In fact, she told me so today.

She feels lost and feels like the kids (her son is about 6 months old) are totally kicking her butt.
I smiled and listened.
And as it happens, I got distracted by some playground shenanigans.

I couldn't help but feel like she was trying to reach out.
She has said on more than one occasion that she feels lost and I've noticed it in the things she doesn't say as well.
I instantly thought of some blog addresses I wanted to send her to.
If she feels she needs to talk, I would want her to know that I could be a source of some comfort or information.
But I don't want to be the unwanted advice giver, or the know-it-all either.
That being said, she seems like she needs an ear and I am careful not to overstep my bounds.(this family has recently moved here from North Carolina and I'm not sure if she has much in the way of support from other moms).

How do you think you would handle this?
How do you think I should handle this?

To Reach and To Touch

2007-11-06T14:14:00.000-08:00

Last night was my first night of class for the new block ( a block is 7 weeks of a semester, where the classes are one night a week for five hours). The class is Topics in Behavioral Science: Buddhism vs. Western Psychology.
When Rav was finishing up his degree we were fresh into our relationship & he was taking Social Psychology with the same instructor that I have for this current class. He told me fascinating things like the instructor brings his guitar into class every night and often sings as part of his lecture.
While he was taking the class, we ran into this instructor while we were out & about & he was wearing leather and stones. He had long hair and an air of calm about him. For all intents and purposes - a hippie, crunchy, granola, new-agey. And I was intrigued.

And everyone in the class that I am taking has taken many, many classes with him. They follow him from course to course. Sort of like dead-heads.
And I completely see why they do.

Anyway, the course he makes interesting. He shares his experience with being on the path. He is chockablock full of knowledge. And someone you simply don't mind listening to for 5 hours. We had a period of meditation during the class, followed by another period of meditation while he sang a mantra that was....beautiful.
My favorite thing of the evening, if I had to pick just one, was when he was discussing a conversation he had with a mentor on Buddhism (my instructor began practicing about 9 years ago). And his mentor said Spare people. Don't tell them that you are, your family and friends. Just spare them. No need to tell them. Be a Buddah.
~~~~
I was originally scheduled for an Economics class this block and quickly dropped it, after hearing rhetoric that a certain political party spouts. I fought with myself for much of the class and said that I need to stick it out.
I'm so glad I didn't.
I'd be missing out on one hell of a class.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

All of this got me thinking about how lucky I really am.
I work at a place that has a bunch of little munchkins who tell their mommies that Ms. Tabitha is my best friend.
And who have named their baby dolls Tabitha.
I learn just as much from them as they are (hopefully) learning from me.
I work at a place that is abundant with hugs and laughter and sunshine and smiles.
When I show up at a field trip destination my class runs up and hugs me.
I share the knowledge I have of teaching with the heart I now have from being a mommy.
How truly lucky I am to work like this.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I was watching a show on A & E or a similar channel about a parole board & it followed certain inmates for a specific amount of time.
I am fascinated with things like this because I love to watch people's behavior.
I listened to some men who were products of probably some really sadistic things in their pasts, they were mentally ill, and their reality was so far removed from the rest of the world.

One inmate was speaking about something that had happened to him and I don't know why but I thought to myself how horrible it must be to live a life day in and day out - and to never be touched. Whether it be physically or mentally/emotionally.

Days go by and we take for granted that we will come home to the waiting arms of our lovers, spouses, children, housemates, family members, etc.

We are touched by strangers who may walk by and say something nice - a mental hug, if you will.

We have computers and a network of people who offer up virtual hugs.

These things become like the air we breathe. They are so apart of our daily living that we forget that we could have it otherwise.

Imagine a week without one instance of physical contact - not having a heartfelt hug, holding someone's hand, having someone rub your back, etc.
Compound that by months and years.
Could you imagine how locked up, desolate, and lonely you would feel?
I'm not even sure I could go there in my mind.

I guess it is very easy for me to be sympathetic.
I don't work in a correctional facility.
I have not one inkling of what it must be like.
I know Rav would probably have his strong feelings on this.
But I can't push out the idea of that need.
How they need that too.

Sunday (Morning) Song of the Moment

2007-11-04T14:16:00.000-08:00

Wow. Am I like, way late on this one?!

My good friend, B. turned 40 yesterday.
And to celebrate, a small group of us (Rav, J and her husband M, and B's husband D, & I) took B out to dinner at a nice restaurant.
Many drinks were had and decent meals were eaten.
B is a special lady & I was proud to be there celebrating her.

I've laughed harder than I've laughed in a long, long
long, long,
long
time.
Like laughed so hard my face hurt and my sides felt like they were going to explode.
Like laughed so hard I had to hide my face in my napkin and wipe the tears off of my cheeks.
Like laughed so hard that Rav was embarrassed because I was becoming almost unbearably and embarrassingly loud.
It was cathartic.
Last Saturday night, I cried so hard it hurt.
This Saturday night, I laughed so hard it hurt. Yes, Jen...I had my head thrown back in wide-open laughter :)
I think I'm making great progress.

Anyway, the point of this is that, this is just one thing that happened this weekend that has kept me away from posting.
A furnace emergency, a sick daughter, and a few other obligations have kept me from it.

But here I am!

And this song is for my sick Gracie. It's her new favorite.

Jealous of the Moon by Nickel Creek
I have do just have to say for only being 3, she's got great taste. I wonder where she gets it from?
I also think she is trying to tell me something with this song as she has been making me play it over and over and over.

Dream A Little Dream Of... Your True Heart's Desire

2007-11-02T11:06:00.001-07:00

The lovely Deb tagged me for a meme. Today seems like a perfect day to do this.
And so far, this has to be one of my favorite memes.

Write five things you want to be when you grow up. Big dreams that seem like folly, but in your heart of hearts are very real and dear to you. Things that maybe you have forgotten about in the ebb and flow and toil of the everyday, but that never really leave your soul. What you would do if anything was possible?

1) The very first occupation I remember really, really wanting to do but seemed totally impossible is the same as Deb's #1 - a photographer for National Geographic. I desperately wanted to hop from country to country, continent to continent - making the world my home. I wanted to leave everything in America behind and simply follow my heart and the road.

2) I would really like to write a children's book (or two). This has been a long-standing dream of mine. I want to collaborate with an illustrator - become part of an artistic process. I so enjoy children's literature and nothing would please me more than to share a story of my own creation with children.

3) In the past few years, I have recently discovered that the two things I can "cook" well are soups and sandwiches. And for the past year or so, I have expressed interest to Rav that I would love to open an eclectic little soup/sandwich shop. A place with cozy, little tables. Oversized chairs, ottomans, teas/coffees/juices. Cool music playing in the background. Can you see it in your head? I totally can.

4) I would love to teach in Korea. Period.

5) A professional musician. I don't know if this one needs any explanation either. Again, with collaborating, part of a process, working with people who are as passionate about music as I am. Sharing that passion with others. Feeling goosebumps on a daily basis when I hear/play certain pieces of music. Aaaahh. I would be in heaven.

Please, if you are reading and feel so inclined, participate in this meme. I would love to hear what your dreams are.

What's It Lke Inside That Head Of Yours, Connor?

2007-10-30T18:11:00.000-07:00

We have conferences next week at Connor's school.
I always look forward to these.
I'm most interested to hear what the teacher has learned about Connor and to hear about his progress.

I'm a smart mom.
I know my kid is a genius.
But a mom just likes to hear it over and over again, ya know?

I know words like
stubborn
inattentive
emotional
might be thrown about.
But that's OK.
It's part of his, um,
genius.
OK?
OK.

In an attempt to get to know each child better, the teacher sent home a paper asking about the kindergarten experience thus far.
The things your child especially likes, dislikes, what they say about school, etc.
And the teacher has asked that we bring it in for our conference.

I sat down and began asking Connor the two that seemed the easiest to answer.
The things he likes best about school
and the things he likes the least.

Some of the things he likes best are:
friend of the day
the green playground
the little blocks
Ms. Morris' hair (the librarian) - and OMG, did my son just say that? I need to check this woman out.
housekeeping

Some of the things he likes the least are:
gym
music
art
the blue playground
crayons AND pencils
group time.

I was intrigued by his answer of group time. So I say to my boy Why don't you like group time?
To which he says - (get ready for this...)

I get all sweaty at group time and it makes my belly hurt.

My dear, sweet, nervous boy.
I know exactly what you mean. When mommy is at school and she has to talk in front of people, she feels the same way bud. The exact.same.way.
You get it honest.
************************************************

Tonight is Halloween.
And I am sorry to say that I left my creativity back in Halloween of '06 and did not make anyone's costume this year.

Tonigth we will do what we have done for the past 2 years.
We will go to our friend's house - B & D.
Their three kids and our two get along famously.
Gracie even declared that N was her boyfriend.
We will order pizza and beg for candy in their neighborhood (it's a much safer 'hood than ours.). In fact ours would qualify for a 'hood status. Theirs does not.

Be safe tonight everyone.
And have a great time!

My Nature From My Nurture

2007-10-30T16:56:00.001-07:00

I wanted to thank all of you for your kind words and your supportive comments.

And the general tone that my post conveyed was that of an existential crisis.
I thought I would take the time to clear up my vague-ness.

The existential crisis hit me in the earlier part of my 20's - shortly after giving birth to Connor.
Giving birth allowed me to look at death with a whole new set of eyes.
It allowed me to further look into legacies and what this whole thing called life is really about.
It left me sleepless and frantic many a night as I looked over in the bassinet at my new baby boy and asked the heavens to keep me alive as long as possible so I wouldn't miss out on anything.
But that is not what I am fighting today. Oh no. In fact, I would take the whole existential bit over what is floating up to the surface right now.

The forgotten feeling I was speaking of is a feeling of emotional isolation and abandonment.
A feeling so ingrained that it has become part of my self-concept.
This was not something that was taught systematically, like teaching a child to tie his or her shoes.
This was something that was learned by non-verbals, observations, and certain choices made over a my childhood lifetime by the adults in my life.
Unfortunately, it is still there.

The thing that is of great discomfort to me right now is that I have been facing the fact that it is happening again to me with other people in my life.
I'm left feeling like the little girl asking herself What is wrong with me? Why am I not worthy?

Over the years, I have learned to shake that.
And for quite awhile I have felt my new, true self take root.

However, the ghost of my youth is back.
And her heart aches.

She's working it out.
I know she is.
It's an icky, messy, painful process.
My adult mind and body has to act as the vehicle for all of these childhood pains to pass through.

Some of you, who have been reading long enough, know the back story. I've shared as much as I can out here. There is more to the story that I simply cannot find the words for tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. I'm just not sure yet.

Joker, I want to thank you for your comment. If you had not said what you said on yesterday's post, I probably would not be doing this one. You read through exactly to what I was trying to say and I found such great comfort in it. Thank you, love. I know that I am not alone.

Cellophane. Shoulda Been My Name.

2007-10-29T17:29:00.000-07:00

I'm almost afraid to post this.
No. Scratch that.
I am afraid to post this.

I've put myself out there before in this here spot before with pretty messy consequences.
But I've got to get some of this out in an attempt to clear my mind, in an attempt to work it through and let it go.
I'm hoping that when it's all said and done, I will watch it float away.
A red balloon of my irrational thoughts that I will send out in the void.
I will let them go and watch them float of into oblivion until they are the size of a pinhead and then disappear.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I had a feeling that, after a few quiet days and some physical labor, in the form of intense cleaning and heavy lifting of household furniture, that there would be an internal break.
A flood.
The dams and leveys that have been holding me back were bound to break.

Last night, in bed, it happened.
I broke.
My head ached like I've never had my head ache before.
The pain so intense.
Usually, crying is a bittersweet release.
It only hurt more to cry. Physically hurt.
At one point, I said to Rav
I feel like I am on the brink of madness.

It took me about a half an hour of crying to get out one word.
A half an hour.
To speak but a few words.
To speak the words that I so fought against.
And when I finally had the ability to speak this is what I said ( in a nutshell):
I feel like I am completely forgettable.

Being the nice guy he is and the ever-devoted husband, he of course, argued this.
And it is a nice sentiment. Really. That he says that I am not.
But it doesn't change the fact that someone feels that way.
After an entire lifetime of feeling it.
Some of it may be self-inflicted and as a result/circumstances of an ever-changing life.
Some of it may be my inability to properly cultivate relationships - in real life and out here.
Some of it may simply be residual hauntings of a past life.
Which, despite all of my personal growth and status as a "big-girl", leaves me still feeling it from time to time.

Now don't get me wrong.
I'm airing.
I'm not trying to throw myself a pity party.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After a few more dull thuds of pain behind my eyeballs and forehead, I managed to get out that I believe this emotional upheaval I've been facing is a direct result of my reiki treatment.
Rav was not pleased to hear me say this. Not in the least bit.

I don't think she did this to me. Quite the opposite. It was there already. But the treatment was like a hot compress to a pimple. It just drew out what was already there.

I began discussing how I feel disconnected from my BFF, from my other close girl-friend, this here blog and the people I've been trying to cultivate relationships with, even Three Dog Night Dad.
I told him how someone once told me the reason people "forget about me" is because I am often too laid back and not demanding enough - I'm not the squeaky wheel.
I'm the one people turn to, IRL, but when it comes time for me to need someone, everyone else has vacated.
And I just hold it all in.
Until the damn breaks.
Which it always does.
And what a mess it makes.

Rav's response to my blubbering purging was that I am fiercely loyal. I am strong, independent - a giver. I give so much of myself and expect so much from myself, so I in-turn, expect a lot from others.
The problem with this, he indicates, is that most people are not willing to give back, equally.

And I see his point.
To a certain extent.

I don't give of myself simply for what I will gain in return.
I don't offer up my loyalties and my friendship hoping to gain any "extras".
I do it because it is me and it is in my heart to do so.
And for no other reasons.

Right now, it is just a lonely place to be.
And I hope that it is just my irrational feelings
that are leaving me with the impressions
of being forgettable.

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment

2007-10-28T08:18:00.000-07:00

There is no story. No background.
This song gets me everytime I hear it.
It simply sears straight through me.

And then there are the lyrics.
The lyrics just make sense to me right now.

Crank it up - Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes

Piece By Piece, Little By Little, Bit By Bit

2007-10-27T15:26:00.000-07:00

Today we spent the day fall cleaning and moving the computer/desk/filing cabinet out of the livingroom and up to Gracie's old room - which was transformed into the playroom-the-kids-never-use. Now half of Gracie's old room is the playroom. The other half is a "work area" for the two grown-ups in the house.

The weather has been perfect around here for such tasks.
Cold.
Windy.
Rainy.
Fall finally seems to have arrived and it feels wonderful.

Thursday I was supposed to chaperon a field trip to a pumpkin farm with Gracie's preschool class. However, weather not permitting, we got a day at home. Just her & I.
It was spent making up nonsensical Knock-Knock jokes, cuddling, and doing nothing in particular.
I did make a batch of Lentil & Sausage Soup that was heavenly.

I have pulled the heavier blankets out & look forward to slipping under them each & every night.
Despite the pull I felt to veg out in front of the TV last night, I opted instead, to light a few candles, curl up under our most delicious blanket, and listen to the rain falling on our A/C window unit (that we probably won't think to remove until January). I pretended we had a tin roof and fell asleep to the metallic drip-drop! and tried to let my stress wash away with the heavy rain that was falling.

Here are a few snapshots from today:

I wonder how much longer they will enjoy doing this together?

This I think is so precious because of her reflection. Click on it if you would like to see it enlarged.

After spending much of the day cleaning upstairs, I found a brown grocery bag that is especially for food donations that came to us in the newspaper, completely empty. As soon as I began to ask out loud where the cans were, I saw them. I still don't know which of my wee ones did this, but something about it touched my heart. And I don't really know why.

I don't know why I was inspired to take this. But looking at all of the colors of all of the thread I own makes me feel....hopeful.

I don't know what else to say about this picture. I just think it is darling.

Hope you all are having a great weekend!

Advice From The Ever-Wise Fortune Cookie

2007-10-26T17:13:00.000-07:00

Constant grinding can turn an iron rod into a needle.

Yup. That about sums it up.

Self-Involvement Is Hitting An All-Time High

2007-10-24T12:36:00.000-07:00

For one reason or another, I haven't written about issues or topics that have been weighing on my mind.
Despite the fact that there are usually many.

I am so wrapped up in the fog that is in my mind and permeating every cell that I cannot even begin to tackle other subjects.
Something has happened to me in the past week and a half.

I'll be damned if I could tell you what it is/was.
All I know is that there is a general discontent,
as well as,
a general goo that has slung itself to my very being.

I feel like I have been feeling like this for way too long.
And I just can't take it anymore.

Reading a blog is like scaling Mt. Everest.
Having energy to just get through the day is unheard of.
Patience?
Gone.

I cannot step outside of this funk long enough to enjoy the good things
or wrap my heart around the not-so-good things.

I'm searching myself and looking back trying to find out what exactly
happened.

And nothing has come to me as of yet.

I know that I have been rather cut-off socially due to the demands of part-time preschool teaching and my full-time student status.
I have not given of myself out here
or in real-life.
Other then in the occupations and roles that I have to employ.

My soul has not been fed.
And I feel it.

Could it be possible that my little old soul has a cold?

What do you think?
Do you believe that a soul/a person's essence can suffer from a "cold"?

I have to say that, right now, I am a believer.

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment

2007-10-21T06:48:00.000-07:00

Certain songs/albums define periods of time.
And when I hear them I am instantly transported back to that time.
Often, I can smell the smells that I associate with that moment in time,
I can recall instantly how I was feeling, the vibe of the environment around me.

I know that you guys probably have experienced this too.

Within the past week, I have heard this one song two times. And I haven't heard the song in quite awhile.
When I heard it, I was transported instantly.

I was transported to the infantile stages of my courtship with Rav.
The stage where all we had was time together and little responsibility.
Our time was our own.
And most of that time was spent in bed.
Talking for hours on end.
And that talking would, of course, lead to other things.

The constant vascilation between deep, heartfelt conversations
and an even deeper physical connection is what comes to mind when I hear the following song.
And the entire Parachutes album by Coldplay is best easily described as the soundtrack of these days.
The seeds of the famiglia de Ravioli were planted at this time and took root.
Connor was, quite possibly, made to one of the songs on this album.

Enjoy Don't Panic by Coldplay

******on a side note, one more final to go. papers have all been turned in. and i will be able to resume my normal lurking, reading, commenting activities.******

The Sacred Place Slowly Fades Away

2007-10-18T11:18:00.001-07:00

**continued from the previous post**

I begin to speak.
And the first few things I say are
This was amazing!
It was so intense.

K says Oh, good! I'm so glad!

She says a lot of people have told me that they often feel intoxicated or high during the treatment. And she asks me if I felt that way.
I explained to her that yes, in fact I had felt incredibly dizzy. But as quickly as it came, it vanished.
She asks if there is anything else I would like to share.
I tell her Yes & that she'll probably think I am nuts.
To which she ensures me that she won't.

I begin to explain what happened with my lower back.
This information she finds very interesting.

She begins to explain that I ...took in a lot of energy.
I look at her, slightly alarmed, and ask if this is a bad thing.
She says no, it just means that I needed it.
(I half-way want to ask her if she is exhausted at all, but decide against it).

K then begins to say that while she is applying her treatment, she tries to meditate as well and if she is prompted by an energy or thought, she just follows it.
During the treatment she was prompted to add only one stone to my body - the pink onyx.
She says that the pink onyx symbolizes love - and that she doesn't know why she was prompted to use this stone, but she was.

She also begins to tell me that when she was holding my right hand, she felt like there was a goal or something that I would like to accomplish, but that something is standing in my way. Something is holding me back.
And she asked that whatever it is that is impeding my progress to be removed.

I thanked K and she left the room to wait for me.

I sat in the silence of the room.
The energy shifted from when I had walked in to the now.
I sat on the edge of the table, rubbing my head and my face, and just breathing deeply for a few more times before I had to head back out to the world.
I looked up and straight ahead from where I sat was a picture.

The picture was of a fantasy-type genre, and the artist made use of earthy tones.
It was dark in appearance - blacks and all shades of browns and golden hues.
There was a mermaid sitting on a rock, on the edge of a shore.
She had the most, haunting eyes. They went straight through me.
She looked peaceful, content.
Yet there was something else in the eyes that I can't quite define.
In her arms, she held a baby.
The baby's head was turned in the opposite direction - burying itself in it's momma's chest, if you will.

When I saw this picture, actually saw it, I felt like I had been hit in the head, physically punched. It was a physical reaction.
And I began to sob.

This wasn't a bad thing.
I believe it was just a release from the treatment.

However, there is something to this picture.
There is something that resonates with me.
To feel such a powerful reaction to it.

I feel awkward talking about this picture.
And to be perfectly honest, this is the first time I am speaking of it.
I have not recounted the experience to anyone yet.
Until now, that is.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The energy shift between the room within and the room outside
is unbelievable.

Despite the overwhelming emotions, it is was so totally worth it.

I made an appointment to go back next month & strongly recommend everyone treat themselves to a reiki treatment.

I have to remind myself to tell my stepmom, Eileen that this was probably one of the best birthday gifts anyone has ever gotten me.

A Trip To The Sacred Place

2007-10-16T18:54:00.000-07:00

When I walk through the door, I become awash in soothing smells.
A mixture of a subtle oil and maybe a slight whiff of coconut.
The air has a hint of smokey smell and ambiance to it.
It's not overwhelming and it is just barely noticeable.
Possibly from the candles that sprinkle the room.

The room is dark, comforting, warm.
It is a room I fear I don't want to leave.
It is almost uterine - in that it feels like the safest and most comfortable of all rooms.

Ethereal pictures are on each and every wall.

Each detail of the room makes itself known on its own due time.

The music, which has been playing all along, decides to make its entrance into my slowly de-clouded and de-cluttered mind.
It has soft beats, soothing panflutes dance their way into my ears and weaving and winding its way into every pore and cell.

K says to me in a voice that meshes with the whole vibe of this room in such a perfect way, to have a seat, remove my shoes and socks, and to hop up onto the table.

She instructs me to lay down.

And she guides me through deep, cleansing breaths.
I inhale deeply through my nose
and
exhale every ounce of breath through my mouth.

It is so quiet.
And my breathing seems as loud as an elephant sneeze in this peaceful, modest room.

K guides me through meditation
and leads me to my sacred place.
Where she leaves me feeling content and happy.

Suddenly I become intoxicatingly dizzy.
I feel very much like I have the dreaded, drunken room spins.
I think to myself if I feel like this the entire time I am here I will probably get sick.
Then
as quickly as it came
it was gone.
And I felt a slight nudge on my lower back that seemed to originate from the table.

By this time, I am so far gone that the only way I know she is there is that I feel the warmth of her hands touch my head and this inspires a memory or a thought.
She cups my ears and these memories and feelings become so intense.
I well up with tears.
She moves her hands to hold my shoulders
and the tears stop.
And one lonely tear escapes and makes its descent down my cheek.

K moves to my abdomen and then quickly walks away.
She returns and places a stone on my stomach.
I only know this by my sense of touch.
She then places a stone under my left hand.

After she places her hands on my stomach, she begins a gentle rocking motion on my mid-section.
This movement, though subtle and gentle, feels so perfectly right.
And again, I am blissfully happy and free as I travel through my sacred place.
The place I miss so much.
The place of my childhood.
The place I will always think of as home.

She makes her way to my knees and my feet.
She returns to my left hand, she keeps the stone in my hand and presses her hands on my hand.
And does the same with my right hand.

K sits down in her chair and politely tells me that I may begin to slowly open my eyes and sit up at my own leisure.
And she will wait with her head bowed and eyes closed
until I am ready to talk.

I do this slowly...
and she looks at me with expectant, excited eyes.

HELLO, Hello, hello

2007-10-15T19:27:00.000-07:00

I swear I'm still here.

No, really I am.

I just need to get through this week.
Just this week.

I can put a few research papers behind me.
And a couple of finals....
Then I'll be good to go.

I'll be able to visit you all and sprinkle my little comments over your way.
In the meantime, I'm missing you and am visiting when I can.

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment

2007-10-14T04:46:00.000-07:00

If you haven't noticed yet, most of the songs I pick fall into one of two categories.
One being:
*usually autumnal or a bit slow - melancholy, if you will.
*or have a significant meaning for me.

Sometimes the songs fall into both categories.
Other times, it is simply something new that I'd like to share.

Today I am picking this song for no particular reason.
It is not new and does not have an emotional significance.

I'm picking it simply because it is a great song.
And every time I hear it, I get chills.

Today's song is I've Been Loving You by Otis Redding.
(and everytime I hear 'Otis', I hear Duckie from Pretty In Pink talking about Otis in my head. Inflection and all.)

Something's Happening Here.... a post by Rav

2007-10-12T12:53:00.000-07:00

The County that we live in has a population of just over 500,000 people. It is also the most affluent County in our State. Since September 24th, 2007, there have been 9 reported attempted abductions of children in our County. All of which have been within a 20 mile radius of our home. I say reported, because I do not doubt that some, for one reason or another, have not been reported. I also do not doubt that some were stopped prior to occurring. The police believe that most of these attempted abductions are not related, that is to say, that they were perpetrated by different individuals. In some instances, the individuals attempted to lure the children with words, in others, they attempted to physically abduct the children. Some of the attempts were interrupted by bystanders, and in one, the child was able to break free from the grip of her would be abductor. In many of the cases, there were reports made to the police of suspicious people/vehicles in the area in the days prior to the incidents. Now, I am not attempting to imply that the police are not doing their job. There is only so much that they can do. As far as I know, all of the would be abductors have gotten away. This is not due to the failure of police, or the failure of people to report suspicious behavior. The type of person who is attempting to abduct a child, is more than likely not going to do it on a whim. They are predators. They stalk their prey, and they are methodical. They wait until the best opportunity to strike. They take our boys, and our girls everyday, everywhere. Open your eyes! All it may take to stop one of these predators is to pick up the phone when you see something strange. It does not hurt to contact your local police department with a concern, and you may be able to stop something tragic.

Autumnal Healing

2007-10-11T09:46:00.001-07:00

Well, autumn has finally made her grand entrance to little old Delaware.
It is chilly, rainy, and a slight wind is kissing the leaves.
It is pushing them down the road in a skitter-skat motion.
Just barely nudging them along.

And it is delicious.
I love this weather.

To top it all off, I am heading to the small town where my Dad & Eileen live.
Eileen is treating me to my first reiki treatment today.
I am so excited.

After my treatment, we're going to have dinner together. Just the two us.

Maybe the treatment will cure my writer's block.
Then again, maybe no.
But my skin is itching in anticipation.

The Better Half

2007-10-10T12:42:00.000-07:00

Flutter did a post about her boy after being tagged by Kyla.

And Flutter was kind enough to tag anyone who read it to participate.

As is the usual lately, I am stumped on something to write about, I jumped all over it.

*****************************************

1. Who is your man?

Known in certain circles as Ravioli - or Rav. More commonly as Bryan.

2. How long have you been together?

We've been together for 6 years.

gawd, look how thin and young we looked. that was from when we first started dating.

3. How long did you date?
Before getting pregnant? Um, 4 months.
Before getting married? 2 years.
We knew that we were it for each other pretty early.
He knew before I did.
Well. That's not entirely true.
I was fighting it.

4. How old is your man?
27 years old & he rubs it in every chance he gets that I am older than him.

5. Who eats more?
That is just too close to call. We both can pack it away.

6. Who said "I love you" first?
My guess would be that it was Rav. Honestly, sitting here right now I can't remember.
(i'm terrible, i know)

7. Who is taller?
Considering we are both Hobbits I find this an amusing question.
Rav is taller though. By about 3 or 4 inches.
(he is so going to comment because of this answer)

8. Who sings better?
Rav without a doubt. Totally.
He may make up his own lyrics to songs. He may be ahead of the beat 9 times out of 10.
But dude can sing.

9. Who is smarter?
Hmmm. I think it's pretty even there.

10. Whose temper is worse?
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
Though, when Rav really gets mad, he blows. Must of the time, it's pretty tough to ruffle his feathers.
I got every ounce of Irish temper left behind by my ancestors.

11. Who does the laundry?
We both do. It's a large task, laundry is in this household. It generally takes the both of us to tackle putting it all away & we each try to stay on top of making sure things get in the washer and dryer.

12. Who takes out the garbage?
We both do. When one forgets, the other remembers to lug the trash can to the curb.

13. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed?
Rav does. Though we tend to mix it up every so often.

14. Who pays the bills?
Pretty much me.

15. Who is better with the computer?
Rav. Totally. I've got absolutely no skills. Ask Slackermommy. She'll tell ya!

16. Who mows the lawn?
Mainly me. Rav might once or twice a season. But mainly me.

17. Who cooks dinner?
Primarily me. Rav might cook up a box of mac 'n' cheese for the kids now and again. But the majority of the cooking is done by yours truly.

18. Who drives when you are together?
Again, primarily me.
And again there are exceptions. But most of the time it is me. So much so that on the rare occasions that when Rav does take the wheel, the kids beg for Mommy to drive.

19. Who pays when you go out?
I think this is a sort of weird question just because all of our money is pulled together in the same pot. I don't consider either of our wages "mine" or "his". It is "ours". He may actually, physically pay the bill. But we both contribute monetarily.

20. Who is most stubborn?
HA! HA! HA!
He is certainly stubborn. Totally.
But I think I've got him beat by just a smidge.

21. Who is the first to admit when they are wrong?
Me. Rav might be wrong more often. Yeah. That sounds good.

And in all seriousness, even when he knows he is wrong he'll fight it & fight it until you produce proof otherwise.

22. Whose parents do you see the most?
We see my mom and stepfather more often than my dad or his parents.

23. Who kissed who first?
It was mutual, I think.
But I think I initiated it.
You'll have to ask him for that story.

24. Who asked who out?
Rav asked me out.
He thought he was so money.
He thought he was kicking mad game.
It was pretty bad.
But he had his charm about him despite his shaky game.

25. Who proposed?
He asked me to marry him, but the whole act of becoming engaged was a mutual effort.

26. Who is more sensitive?
Once again, we both are very sensitive people.
Though I would venture to say that I am a bit more sensitive.

27. Who has more friends?
I would say that it is probably me.

28. Who has more siblings?
Rav. He has three older brothers.

29. Who wears the pants in the family?
Yours truly.

(I picked this picture because it is from far away & you can barely see my face. For whatever reason, I am becoming less and less photogenic. But is a pic from this past weekend in Baltimore. And it illustrates the fact that I do wear the pants in the family.)

Oh, and go for it if you feel so inclined.

Teach Your Children Well

2007-10-09T12:46:00.000-07:00

Set the scene:
Late Saturday evening, after we all came back home from a grown-up time in Baltimore and the kids having grandparent time. Rav & I begin bedding down for the night.

We were chatting and canoodling and just generally being cutesy before bed.

And Action!
We heard Connor get out of bed and make his way into the bathroom.
We stopped our little flirtation to listen and we heard Connor began to expell his stream.
And as this happened there was an unusual um, tone to it.
We both look at each other and mirrored identical looks and passed identical thoughts:
That doesn't sound good.

Rav jumps up and heads into the hallway to find a stream of pee followed by a puddle.

The stream is making it's way from the doorway of the chilun's bedroom, making a vast arc, and collecting in a pool on the hallway floor.

There is our son, with his pants around his ankles in all his glory.
Really, there was nothing left to do but let him finish at that point.

Rav asks Connor with a hint of exasperation and alarm in his voice
Buddy!? What are you doing?!
To which Connor replies as he begins to sob a little
Gracie told me to do it!!!!

Meanwhile, Gracie is entrenched in slumber.

Rav cleans things up as I sit laughing from the bed.
This did not amuse him at all.
And obviously, it wasn't the bathroom that we heard Connor walking to. Just his doorway which in his dazed state must resemble a toilet.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Sunday we made our way down to see Three Dog Night Dad, Eileen, and my brothers.
Half-way there, Connor says to me
Mom. I didn't know that your brothers were around when Mimi and Pop-Pop were married.

I said They weren't around Connor. I was the only one.
Curiousity grips him firmly and he says
Well how did Uncle Kenny & Uncle Ian become your brothers?

I explained plainly Well. When Mimi & Pop-Pop were done being married, Pop-Pop met Mom-mom and married her.....
and as I begin to explain that my brothers are my brothers because we share the same dad, Connor breaks in with this:

OH!!!! I see. It was a switch-off marry.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Connor comes home from school on a daily basis with a worksheet that is broken down into two parts. The top part has four empty boxes to draw in and the bottom part is where the practice the letter they are working on that day.

Yesterday, the class worked on the letter 'T'.

I saw that he had drawn a turtle.

He had even written our last name, which has two T's in it.

He drew a train.

And the last picture was less recognizeable.

I ask Connor to identify for me the picture he had drawn.

He clucked a little and says It's a toilet!!!

How My Heart Behaves

2007-10-08T10:32:00.001-07:00

I truly believe that certain events happen and certain people walk in or out of our lives for specific reasons. We don't always know what they are, but it happens. Sometimes it is subtle sometimes more profound.

I am a firm believer in this.

For example, this morning I got up and made my way straight to the computer (which I usually don't do), I went straight to my blog, and clicked on Oh, The Joys link in my sidebar. There was virtually no thought in it. It was as if I was on autopilot. It was just something I felt like I had to do before I did anything else.
I read her post and thought to myself Thank god I did this. I am so glad I didn't wait any longer.
Granted that her world would not collapse in on itself because she hadn't heard from me yet.
But
I felt that it was so important for me to acknowledge what is going on over her way right now.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

We were in Baltimore this past weekend and not long after we had arrived and began walking our way to the venue, I saw a woman on the opposite side of the street who appeared like she needed some assistance. She was well-dressed, carrying a big purse. And she was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, slouched forward. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She would stumble and sway. I kept waiting for her to just fall right over. People would walk by her and look with puzzled expressions and move on their way.
Included in those people were me, Rav, and the two other people we were with.

I spotted a security guard and was going to alert her to the condition of this woman.
But something else took hold of me and I did not do it.
All night and all of the next day, I would see the woman pop up in my mind's eye and I felt this terrible brick in my stomach for not doing something.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Those of you who have been reading for some time know that I was helping people that I was running into for quite awhile. And my safety may have been jeopardized at one point or another.
And I struggled with how I could do what needed to be done & not be stupid or unsafe.
This problem was compounded even more by the fact that I felt it was happening for a reason.
I felt that I was crossing paths with these individuals for a very specific purpose.

And the thing that I have realized is this:

It feels way worse for me to not do anything and be "safe".
It's this nasty, hard, thick brick in my stomach.

The whole diffusion of responsibility mentality that just doesn't sit well with me.

I think it way worse to not act. To shrug my shoulders and turn my head, close my eyes and
a)hope that the next person who comes along will help.
or
b)be completely cold, empty-hearted, and oblivious.

It's not my style and it just plain old does not feel good.
It feels inherently wrong.

It is a moral issue with me.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I know that I can't cure poverty or eradicate the use of highly addictive drugs.
I know that I cannot cure every ailing soul.
For every one person I help, there is an infinite line of people behind them.
I know that my bagged lunches, my $1 here and there do not solve the world's problems.
I know this. I do.
And I know that it is important for the people who care for me know that I am safe.

However, I know that it is not in me to continue to turn a blind eye.
I simply cannot do it. It doesn't feel right.

And that is just how my heart behaves.

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment, by Rav

2007-10-07T05:22:00.000-07:00

Today, my baby turns 29. We had a great time in Baltimore this weekend, attending the Paolo Nutini concert. Some of you have asked, and no, we do not live in Baltimore. We are about an hour from there. I will leave exact details of the weekend for Tabba to post at a later date, but I must say one thing. Those of you who thought that Paolo was hot, I regret to inform you that I have seen him in person, from about 15 feet away. He is one of the ugliest men I have seen. I really mean that too. U-G-L-Y, he ain't got no alibi.... Anyway, today's song is a song that is special to me and Tabba. It was our wedding song, and has always been a song that we enjoyed. This is not the original version of this song. It has been covered by a very handsome guy, unlike Paolo Nutini. Anyway, enjoy It's Your Love, originally performed by Tim McGraw and Faith Hill, here performed by this highly attractive guy, who sometimes sings flat, and off key....

I love you Tabba, happy birthday!

The Streets of Baltimore & Scads of Lovely Women

2007-10-04T17:29:00.000-07:00

**Edited**
Edited to correct the link to Oh the Joys. She is raising two of the funniest, wild, entertaining kids on the face of the planet. Previously the link took you to the Online Bible College. Sorry :)

Tomorrow evening Rav & I head off with our two friends, Jon & Jess for an evening of adult interaction, and good music at this venue in Baltimore.
Oh, I just cannot wait.

Liv, I will be thinking of you and will be sure to pass on your pertinent info should he ask me if I know any hot, single yoga instructors.

So I will be scant around here this weekend as we partake in the celebration of my impending 29er-dom.
That being said, I promised you a thought. And I've had quite a few, if you can believe it or not. And I want to honor that promise before we head off for our celebratory weekend.

As I was saying, I was out at a musical production which was written by a woman about women. And while part of it might have been a little over-the-top for me, the basic message was one that I can certainly appreciate. Not to mention, as I've stated, I found myself thinking of all of you.
As the show went on and the various stories of each character was told, I thought of you all and the struggles and triumphs you all face on a daily basis.
Some of you are battling a problem that seems almost impossible to fix.
Some of you are simply exhausted and have had your plate full for far too long, but still full of grace and humor.
Some of you are starting over and doing it in a way that I admire.
Some of you are so busy & I miss your voice. But think of you daily.
Some of you are debratting your kids.
Some of you are raising two of the funniest, wild, entertaining kids on the face of the planet.
You have an amazing voice and give a beautiful voice to autism.
You give me the much needed chuckle and I admire the incredibly hard work you do.
I admire what you do for a living and in your views on raising your children.
I long for your insight into living greener.
I just love the two of you and your stories, your insights, your knowledge of literary things.
Yours is a voice that resonates with me and that I long to hear everyday.
I often find myself thinking of you and am anticipating what issue or topic you are tackling today. I admire your sense of community and your honesty.
I would chose you for my doc any old day of the week and twice on Sunday.
I love your writing and your guts. I am thinking of you.

The list could go on. And just because you're not listed here is certainly not meant to slight. Because believe me, I was thinking of you all.

I Will Survive was a song that was played during the musical and I got all choked up thinking of you all. Thinking of your lives...where you have been, the things you have shared, and the journeys yet to come.
And I was grateful, truly grateful that there are so many wonderful, wonderful, amazing women out there.
We are amazing creatures, we women. We endure, we change, we are flexible, we are strong, we are weak, we love, and long to be loved. And you all shine.

I don't think I'm saying everything I would like to say here, but I think you get the picture.
I am all the better for you all. Even in this completely open, yet 2-D way.
I am all the better
as is the world.
For you are all in it.
And that makes me so happy it brings me to tears during a musical.
(Just for those of you wondering. No, I am not PMSing :) )

OH! Look! A Meme!!

2007-10-03T08:15:00.000-07:00

So the meme type of question/answer thing is making it's way 'round again. And I jumped at the chance to have Liv ask me a question or 5...Take a gander below. And if you would like me to ask you five questions give a holler in the comment.

1) So sometimes I am kind of a distracted reader... oh, look! a bird! What's with the midterms, etc?
I have been in & out of the halls of higher education for ten years. Including jumping between three majors (education, horticulture, and (now) Behavioral Science) with still no degree to show for it.
I came to the realization that my kids won't be little forever, that it's getting harder and harder to "make it", and I need something for ME when the kids are both in school all day. So I decided to head back to college.
This year marks my second full year and a degree program that suits me perfectly.
The classes I take are called block classes. They are one night a week, for five hours, and only 7 weeks. So I take two classes the first half of the semester, two classes the second half and I am still considered a full-time student. It works perfectly for our crazy lives as it doesn't pull me away from home & the kids constantly. 7 weeks and Poof! class is done.
This past Saturday was my first midterm for this block and Monday evening was my other midterm for my other class.
So that's the 4-1-1 on that :)

2) You've talked about life with a child who has an ASD. How are things going? How has your view of the diagnosis changed over time?
Things are going very well. Some of the sensory processing issues that Connor has had are not as intense and I have noticed a decrease in his anxiety. That, I think, is in large part due to the fact that he is in school all day. I do not provide the amount of structure that he requires. That's just the reality of being home.
My view of the diagnosis has changed in the sense that I don't believe that Connor is ADHD. I believe he may have something else that just has been masked by similar symptoms of ADHD. I also have changed my view in regards to the fact that I see this as a wonderful Ability. His mind is so wide open to so many other things.
Though he is so literal and often rather serious, he has abilities that are just simply amazing. And I feel that this wiring of his makes that possible.

3) You say you think you're an "old soul." I'm not doubting you, but would love to know what's new?
Wow. This is a tough one. I'd say that the stability that I've had in the last 5 years or so is new. The fact that I am grounded and not as afraid of myself anymore. I'm not afraid of the things I want to accomplish, my inner desires for myself, and a general acceptance of myself. I still struggle with it. But I was such a lost soul for awhile. And I'd say being grounded is new.

4) When I first started reading you, you were in the middle of a spree of helping folks everywhere you went to the point that a few of us were a little concerned. Have you managed to find safe and constructive ways to let your inner helper light shine safely?
Well, maybe. I haven't seen as many people (in the flesh) around that need help like I kept seeing there for awhile. It seemed like for a month or so they just kept cropping up - walking directly into my path. And I felt like it was happening for a reason.
But to better answer your question, I try to round up coats and shoes around this time of year for a shelter in the one large city in our state.
I've been giving small monetary contributions (what I can afford) to a couple of meaningful causes.
I've been toying with an idea of starting a recurring shoe/coat/clothing donation at the preschool where I work and have been trying to make a contact with my Soc. teacher who may be able to point me in the direction of resources who would be in need of such donations.
I inquired about a volunteer organization that tutors at-risk children with literacy and am trying to find a way to fit that into our schedules.
I feel that this helping part of me is being utilized everyday in the preschool with these wee ones that look to me to guide and teach.
And lastly, trying to talk to my kids about helping and being a good citizen. Connor came home the other day talking about a boy, T, who is a student in the school that adjoins Connor's for the severely disabled. Connor apparently got to go down to that school and spend a 1/2 hour with the kindergartners and hung out with T. T is in a wheelchair and only has movement of his head and no speaking ability. Connor was so intrigued and empathetic. I've been talking with him about it and asked him if we would like to see T again. To which he happily replied "yes". So that, I feel, is one way to perpetuate the process.

5) What does Mrs. Incredible do for exercise? We know she's flexible, but if she's stretched to the limit we need to get her to lay off the isometric work-outs.
Mrs. Incredible has let excercise fall by the wayside. I was mountain biking on a regular basis. However I quickly got bored of that once I lost the person I was riding with. I didn't lose her in the woods or anything. She just moved on.
This summer, I was very active working in my yard and would consider that exercise. But it didn't last very long.
Again, this is something else that I have been trying to figure out a way to work it into my daily schedule. I feel so much better when I'm active, so I need to get on it.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

And just when you thought there was nothing else left to learn, I found this meme on Maigh's blog and promptly stole it. But she said I could. So it's OK.
If you're interested, go ahead and copy/paste it & bold those which you have done.

01. Bought everyone in the bar a drink
02. Swam with wild dolphins
03. Climbed a mountain
04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
05. Been inside the Great Pyramid
06. Held a tarantula
07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. Said “I love you” and meant it
09. Hugged a tree
10. Bungee jumped
11. Visited Paris
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea
13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise
14. Seen the Northern Lights
15. Gone to a huge sports game
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables
18. Touched an iceberg
19. Slept under the stars
20. Changed a baby’s diaper
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. Watched a meteor shower
23. Gotten drunk on champagne
24. Given more than you can afford to charity
25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
27. Had a food fight
28. Bet on a winning horse
29. Asked out a stranger
30. Had a snowball fight
31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can
32. Held a lamb
33. Seen a total eclipse
34. Ridden a roller coaster
35. Hit a home run
36.Danced like a fool and didn’t care who was looking
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day
38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
39. Had two hard drives for your computer
40. Visited all 50 states
41. Taken care of someone who was drunk
42. Had amazing friends
43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. Watched whales
45. Stolen a sign
46. Backpacked in Europe
47. Taken a road-trip
48. Gone rock climbing
49. Midnight walk on the beach
50. Gone sky diving
51. Visited Ireland
52. Been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love
53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger’s table and had a meal with them
54. Visited Japan
55. Milked a cow
56. Alphabetized your CDs
57. Pretended to be a superhero
58. Sung karaoke
59. Lounged around in bed all day
60. Played touch football
61. Gone scuba diving
62. Kissed in the rain
63. Played in the mud
64. Played in the rain
65. Gone to a drive-in theater
66. Visited the Great Wall of China
67. Started a business
68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken
69. Toured ancient sites
70. Taken a martial arts class
71. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
72. Gotten married
73. Been in a movie
74. Crashed a party
75. Gotten divorced
76. Gone without food for 5 days
77. Made cookies from scratch
78. Won first prize in a costume contest
79. Ridden a gondola in Venice
80. Gotten a tattoo
81. Rafted the Snake River
82. Been on television news programs as an “expert”
83. Gotten flowers for no reason
84. Performed on stage
85. Been to Las Vegas
86. Recorded music
87. Eaten shark
88. Kissed on the first date
89. Gone to Thailand
90. Bought a house
91. Been in a combat zone
92. Buried one/both of your parents
93. Been on a cruise ship
94. Spoken more than one language fluently
95. Performed in Rocky Horror
96. Raised children
97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
98. Passed out cold
99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over
101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge
102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn’t stop when you knew someone was looking
103. Had plastic surgery
104. Survived an accident that you shouldn’t have survived
105. Wrote articles for a large publication
106. Lost over 100 pounds
107. Held someone while they were having a flashback
108. Piloted an airplane
109. Touched a stingray
110. Broken someone’s heart
111. Helped an animal give birth
112. Won money on a T.V. game show
113. Broken a bone
114. Gone on an African photo safari
115. Had a facial part pierced other than your ears
116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
118. Ridden a horse
119. Had major surgery
120. Had a snake as a pet
121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours
123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states
124. Visited all 7 continents
125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. Eaten kangaroo meat
127. Eaten sushi
128. Had your picture in the newspaper
129. Changed someone’s mind about something you care deeply about
130. Gone back to school
131. Parasailed
132. Touched a cockroach
133. Eaten fried green tomatoes
134. Read The Iliad - and the Odyssey
135. Selected one “important” author who you missed in school, and read
136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
137. Skipped all your school reunions
138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
139. Been elected to public office
140. Written your own computer language
141. Thought to yourself that you’re living your dream
142. Had to put someone you love into hospice care
143. Built your own PC from parts
144. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn’t know you
145. Had a booth at a street fair
146. Dyed your hair
147. Been a DJ
148. Shaved your head
149. Caused a car accident
150. Saved someone’s life

2007-10-03T05:57:00.000-07:00

Last night, I went out with a group of women to see a musical written by a woman.
A musical that was about a group of women reliving the "old days" and therefore cementing the bonds of their sisterhood.

As I sat in the audience, I found myself thinking of all of you. Wondering if you could feel me sending vibes across this country and making it's way into other countries. I wondered if you could feel that someone out there was thinking of you.

During the musical an idea for a post came to mind.
And I found myself elated and relieved.

Then I came home to find out this had happened.
And I thought to myself that there is no way that I could justify writing about anything other than this.

If you haven't already, please go visit Jenn.
Please offer her your kind words and condolences.
Let's all go in peace today and do the best we can to keep each other safe.

When I Come Around

2007-10-02T19:38:00.000-07:00

Mid-terms and other daily necessities are keeping me away from blogging and commenting.

Thoughts are starting to free themselves from the mental glue and quicksand that have been keeping them trapped inside.
I think they will flow forth soon.

Tomorrow I have the day off. And I am anticipating a new post tomorrow over an early morning cup of joe.

So until then....

Sunday (Morning) Song of the Moment

2007-09-30T13:04:00.000-07:00

** Edited**
I removed the original youtube video of this song that I had posted after I discovered that it did not contain the entire song....I added a better youtube version.

So sorry this one is a wee late. Today was spent in the delights of crisp blue skies, a quick nip on the skin from just the slightest bite of cold in the morning air.
The air smelled of possibility.

We took the kids to our favorite diner. The kids ate well.
Rav dove into some Pumpkin pancakes that were to die for.

If you were to ask me, at the age of 21, if I saw myself with two kids and a husband at 28, I probably would have wrinkled my nose,shrugged my shoulders and said
You just never know.

I try to, on a daily basis understand this world we live in.
I struggle with trying to make sense of, not necessarily for myself anymore, but for these two precious souls who are in my care.

I've been looking back lately, smiling and nodding at accomplishments and personal growth.
I sometimes cringe at the car wrecks I've found myself involved in.
I remember on more than one occasion wondering if I'd ever make it through.
And I always have.

Sure I might have a few battle scars - visible and not.
And for all that I have learned, there is still so much more to learn.

I'm itching for the journey ahead, whatever that may be.
Knowing me and the way things go
it'll be one amazing, scary, wild, and completely enjoyable ride.

I hope you enjoy the song. It's nothing newly discovered or obscure.
On The Road to Find Out ~ Cat Stevens
It just fits right into a quiet little spot in my heart and mind right now.
And I just thought I'd share.

I hope you all are enjoying this early fall, day.

Mental Mute

2007-09-27T17:44:00.000-07:00

I have so much and so little to say.

When I envision myself opening up my mind and my mouth to talk about what is pushing the insides of my brain to their capacity, I see an almost Shel Silverstein-esque image.
Wonky words and letters heaped up on their sides and upside-down in a
cumbersome, bulky regurgiated mess.
How is that for a visual?

I cannot think of an interesting story to share.
I cannot think of a topic to bite into.

But yet my mind is just so full.
I want to share.
I want to lay down thoughts and ideas and hear all of your voices respond in the comments.

Tomorrow is another day.

A Nine Pound Hammer Or A Woman Like You

2007-09-26T18:58:00.001-07:00

I wish I had more to offer in the way of thoughts.
But right now, I've got nothing.

Instead my heart is hanging out with Jen, Deb, and Tricia.

And I'm sure that others out there are aching too. And my heart is with them.

Please help me in lifting up these women who, on more than one occasion, have lifted us up as well.

That's all.

29er-Ish

2007-09-24T18:55:00.000-07:00

In approximately two weeks, my calendar will turn yet again.
With that approach, I will be hitting my third decade. I will teeter there and wait for three-oh to grab hold.
(Oh, shush. I know you're all rolling your eyes at me. I know that I'm the baby of the "group".)

I feel that as such, this marks the end of something.
And not necessarily in a bad way.
But it definitely has the closing of a chapter feel.

And because of this, I have decided
A) that I need to celebrate this birthday - as I usually don't celebrate myself on my birthday.
and
B) I have been doing more introspection and self-evaluation than I normally do. (which means I've been doing A LOT).

I've been thinking about all that has been wrapped up, accomplished, discovered, and experienced in these two decades.
The roads have been rough, meandering.
Making their way to smoother, more purposeful ones.

I have found pieces of myself that I had thought were long gone and had become useless litter that lined my road.
I have learned how to (more) easily identify that meaningful "litter" that I discarded without knowing any better and the "litter" that is simply just that...trash.
Whether that be unhealthy people, habits, or mindsets.

I have become much more comfortable with this personality of mine, this essence that spans more than the (almost) three decades.
For it reaches much farther back.
It resides in the 1940's.
Completely skips over the 1950's.
And picks back up again in the late 60's-early 70's.
I was born before my time - if that makes any sense.
I'm simply an old soul.
And I've come to accept that as OK.
It's OK that I may be the only 20-something who watched Are You Being Served? and Laugh-In (on Nick-at-Nite with Three Dog Night Dad & Eileen) growing up.
It's totally rockin'(I think)that I get goosebumps when I see 40's era cars, clothing, and hear 40's era music.
Which brings me to the next...

I've embraced my inner geek.
And that's all I have to say on that.

These things I've listed above have always been a part of me.
But this year.
This year
I've grown into them.
They fit now.
I'm much more OK with me than I was ever before.

Not to say that there isn't more work to be done.
I'm still struggling with things.
There is still so much left to do, left to learn, left to explore.
There are inner boundaries that I want to push just a bit farther.

With all of these inner victories that I have won this year
it does make me eager to see what the year between
29 and 30 will bring.

Sunday Morning of the Moment

2007-09-23T05:17:00.000-07:00

My pick for this morning is New Shoes by Paolo Nutini.
I'm so happy to have run across him in the past few weeks.
I desperately needed something new.

I particularly love that you can hear hints of his Scottish accent in the song.
Yes, that's right. He's Scottish.
Go figure.

Of Kindred Spirits and Hunting Mice

2007-09-20T10:13:00.001-07:00

I have a new ally in Beck.
Her story of finding a mouse carcass sent me into sympathy gagging.

I absolutely, hands-down, with out a doubt would love to rid the world of all mice.
That may sound horrible of me.
But they really are about the nasty of all nasty beasts.
They just plain old skeeve (spelling? anyone?) me out.

I have called Rav home in the middle of his work day because I saw a mouse who thought himself so bold as to go prancing through my diningroom in the middle of the day.
The set on this guy (the mouse), I'll tell ya.
To think it is OK to just go sauntering through my diningroom like that.

One evening, I fell asleep on the sofa (Rav was upstairs). When I woke up to go to bed, a mouse decides to play chicken and run right out in front of me.
I hauled ass back to the sofa and had Rav come downstairs and give me a piggy-back ride across the livingroom floor and over to the steps.

Why am I telling you about all of this?
Well, the other night in soc. class, we got to talking about germs. And how some people are extreme (though they might not think so) about hand-washing and touching things.

The instructor said she just does not think about germs the way that a germaphobe does.

And I agree. I mean, I am mindful to wash my hands. I try to hover over public toilets, I use my foot to flush public toilets. But I'm not completely paranoid in public places.

And we began a discussion about how everyone has their thing.

I couldn't think of what my thing was.
Because I'm not a freaky-deaky person.
I'm above obsession.
I have it all together.
Ha!

Slowly it came to me that my thing is mice.
When the weather starts getting colder, I have a keen sense of the almost inaudible
scratch, scratch, scratch in the walls. If I hear the slightest sound of a teeny, tiny squeak I become alert.
Hyper-alert.

My pupils dilate. My breathing becomes very slow and quiet. I sit very still. I turn in the direction of the sound.
When I hear it again, I know the game is on.

I run around the house stuffing steel wool into every little nook and cranny.
I make sure every available electrical outlet has those sonic mice keeper-awayer things.
I put the poison pellets under appliance.
I hunt them. I can tell the paths that they are travelling. I am keen to their habits.
And it really does become this thing that just takes up my spare thoughts.

It occurred to me the other day just how insane I am about keeping these things out of homes.
We were at my mom's house getting ready to leave.
As I was standing by the door, I happened to look down at the baseboard trim.
I said to my mom, Looks like you've got some mice.
She said Oh, no! Why? How do you know?
I said, See down here at the trim? This little pile of wood and paint dust? They are running behind the baseboard trim and are digging out a nest or whatever.
She was like Oh, I thought it might have been from ants.
Could be. I said. But it looks more like mice to me.

What do you think?
A job in pest control awaits?

Or just plain old insanity?

He Double-Fists - With Crayola

2007-09-18T12:14:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, we were out to dinner with the kids and my BFF.
(oh, what a rarity. We just don't do restaurants with both of the kids. Unless it is the diner for breakfast).
I happened to have a box of crayons in Gracie's bag.
And the kids set to work coloring the fronts and backs of every placemat they could get their hands on.

Connor was sitting to the right of me and I looked over at him.
He had a green crayon in one hand
and a red one in the other.

And he began writing his name.
With both hands.
Two letters at the same time.
And his hands were moving in opposite diretions of each other.

His name looked perfect.
There were no mistakes.

My jaw flew open and plopped itself into my bowl of soup.
I asked him to do it again.
And he freaking-fracking did!

Has anyone else ever seen this?
Tonight is open-house at his school and I'm hoping to run into the Occupational Therapist.

On a side note, I tried this out myself.
And I couldn't do it.
Not to mention, it looked terribly sloppy.
Whereas Connor's looked perfect.

Weird?
Or just me?

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment

2007-09-16T07:09:00.000-07:00

I may have picked this song before. In fact, I think I did use it on one of the weeks where I couldn't select just one - and I added it in a list of many that week.

But there can be no substitute for actually listening to the song.

I want to send this out to two lovely women.
There was a time when I desperately longed for lovely, strong, fun, intelligent women in my life.
I lived in envy of other women who had a group of "girls".
And I have recently accumulated some amazing, amazing women friends.
I am ever so grateful for them.

I dedicate this to the lovely Mrs. S. Whom I adore.
She is a dear, dear woman.
She is a teacher of young men in a catholic high school in our small state.
She is a devoted, amazing mother.
She jokes about how she has a degree in French.
And when we get that huge influx of French come in to our country, she will be in high demand. (I'm sure she is in high demand, anyway.)
She offers her home, her table, her meals, and her affection to my little family whenever we visit.

I also dedicate this to Jess (not to myself, Jess. But to the other Jess - and she knows who she is).
Jess who heard this song playing in our house one night and was moved by the music enough to ask who it was.
Jess who is embarking on a new adventure and who I know will do well.
The adventure will not take her to Paris.
But it is an adventure nonetheless.
She is scared and excited.
And I am so proud of her for taking such a leap.
She is courageous, fun, and smart, smart, smart.
I'm so glad to have met you and look forward to spending more time getting to know you even more.

So, J'ai Deux Amors by Madeleine Peyroux is sent out to these fine women.
I am thinking of you both this morning.
Won't you all join me for a stroll through Paris with these two lovely women?
We'll lock arms as we walk, we'll throw our heads back and laugh, we'll long - maybe just a little for the moment to never end, we'll lift each other up, we'll relish in the light that we each radiate.
You won't be disappointed.

Full Circle

2007-09-13T19:34:00.000-07:00

I haven't seen Three Dog Night Dad in quite awhile.
There really is no great excuse.
Attempts have been made.
And for one reason or another, it just doesn't come to fruition.

Out of desperation, I phoned old Pop at about 4 p.m. Tuesday evening and said
Hey, Dad. It's Jess. Feel like stopping by for a bit on your way home from work?
He gobbled up the invitation.

We sat on the couch and chatted while the kids showed him every meaningless tidbit under the sun.
Meaningless as in Here, Pop-Pop! Look at this tissue!!! Here, Pop-Pop, look at this Cheerio on the floor that has been here since Connor's 6 month of life!!!
They were so excited to see him, they had to ply him with every object and object description they possibly could.

So there we are.

Father and daughter sitting on the couch.
Having a good old,long overdue talk.
All of a sudden, my dad stops listening.
His eyes avert to the right of me.
Something else has grabbed his attention.

At first I'm a tad bit alarmed thinking maybe that ginormous spider of ours has made it's way into the house.
Or worse yet, a mouse has been spotted (I'm freakishly afraid of the nasty buggers).

I look in the direction that has him so engrossed.
And it is this picture that has made it's way to the computer screen during the screen saver montage:

He sat there staring with the goofiest, most satisfied, longing, happy look on his face.I was speechless.
I didn't know what to say.

But as a mom, as a parent, I can only imagine what he must have been thinking.

Apparently I Am The Queen Mum

2007-09-12T15:03:00.000-07:00

Last night, I got approximately 1.4 hours of sleep.

I have a cold that is sticking it to me where the sun don't shine.

And it is that reason that I did not sleep last night.

Oh, how I wished that I did not have to shower, get dressed, drive to work and put on a happy face for my cute little preschoolers.

I just wanted to stay in bed.

Scratch that.

It wasn't necessarily that I wanted to stay in bed.

I needed to stay in bed.

Alas, I got dressed and waited for the day to get started.

I was taking care of some last minute curriculum planning this morning when the phone rings.

And it's Rav.

He is on his way to drop Gracie off at my in-laws to be cared for while we work.

Rav says You want to hear something funny?

I think to myself: as long as it's funny a la it's actually Saturday morning and we've all gotten our days screwed up, which means I can go back to bed. That's the only funny I want to hear.

But that would be mean to tell him to shove it.

So I say Yeah, I guess. (which is oh, so much better)

He says So, we're in the car and I say to Gracie 'Who is my most special girl?' And she says, 'ME!!!'. And then I say to her 'Are you my princess?'. To which she replies 'No. No I am not a princess! You can just call me Queen.'

I laugh genuinely and say Oh, no. That is just no good.

Rav says Yeah. I thought I'd just share that with you so we both know what we're up against.

True dat.

Misty Morning II

2007-09-11T04:44:00.000-07:00

What can I say today that someone else isn't already saying more eloquently?

Last year, I did a ranting, raving post. And I have to say that I don't feel much differently today than I did last year.

All I can say is I Remember.

And I'm sure you do too.

Sometimes, I feel that is the best that we can do.
Because there are not always clear cut solutions and answers.
And the mentality that people have of
How could that happen here?
Bothers me on so many levels.

All I know is that today I will have a hard time playing silly games and painting with my little preschoolers.
I'll have a hard time looking at them and knowing that the world as it was is so completely changed from the days before towers fell and planes crashed, to the now.
It's with a heavier heart and a heavier mind.
I'll look at these children who are so pure in their ignorance
and all I can do
is Hope.

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment

2007-09-09T04:59:00.000-07:00

I really have been out of the music loop lately. I'm usually on the prowl for little known artists and songs. But so many other things have been keeping me away from it.

Things like my first baby heading off to all-day kindergarten.
And this fact has had me reflecting quite a bit about just how fast time flies.

We were visiting parents of some good friends of ours last weekend.
And we began to talk about the kids.
And I said to Mr. & Mrs. S. It seems like it was just five minutes ago we came over here with Connor in his infant car seat.
Really.
It does feel like that was just five minutes ago.
I've been trying to remind myself that our financial situation isn't always going to be like this.
The kids won't be this little that much longer, that I'll be finished school sometime soon, and things will change.

And all of this is good.
All of it.
The hard, the easy, the heart-wrenching, the anticipation.

And the other thing?
I am happy.
We are happy.

And nothing encapsulates all of this for me like the following song.
Mushaboom by Feist

On Yesterdays and Tomorrows

2007-09-06T11:15:00.001-07:00

When I think about how to make this world a better place, I instantly look to the generation that is waiting-in-the-wings.
The ones that don't even know that the weight has been placed upon them.
I think about what a load that is for these up-comers to bear. Considering their ages haven't even hit double-digits yet.
That it is completely up to them to rid the world of the nasties.

But that is faulty logic.
We, the adults - the generation of the now, might not be able to fix things but it is up to us to set the examples and to lead accordingly.

I got to thinking about how my compassionate heart became that way. How as much of a spit-fire I can be IRL, I am or try to be, kind. I tend to see things that others might not where other people are concerned.
And I got to thinking about how that came about.
I reflected on the adults in my life that fashioned and molded me. The adults who made the most postive lasting impressions.

You all are probably rolling your eyes and sighing, saying to yourselves Yeah, we know. We know. Your dad and that damned reggae music. Sheesh. Shut your pie-hole, would ya?

And while yes, my dad had the major positive influence on me, my compassion, my kindness, my manners came from my grandmother (my dad's mom).
She was the one that taught me to think of others first.
To always be polite.
To welcome anyone - to try and make them feel at home.
If anything, my grandmother was about propriety. And I don't mean that in a snooty way.
She just strongly felt that you should act a certain way to other people. And that way was always kind and polite.
And many others had their hands in the pot as far as the shaping-of-me went.
There were religious leaders, parishioners of our church, teachers, other relatives, etc.

It certainly wasn't any one person.
There were many.

I see how our society really gears toward the individualistic approach to things and I can't help but to think how sad it is.
And I reflect about how we push our kids to be independent, to not need anyone. Or at least need others as little as possible.
And then how shocked we are when they do find their wings and find their way and gain that independence, we scratch our heads and wonder
Why don't they need us? Why don't they come around?

I think about the gaping hole that would be left behind in my spirit or creative mind had I not been influenced by Mrs. Duncan, my 4th & 5th grade art teacher.
The battered little girl (emotionally) who never asked for hugs, but got them on a daily basis from Mrs. Bridge nee Pokoiski.
Or the feeling of belonging to something bigger at Christ Episcopal Church because of Rev. Lindermann, Mrs. Budd, Mr. & Mrs. Warren, Mr. Mitchell, Mrs. Bright, Mrs. Bonner and all of my friends in my sunday school class.
Or the unconditional love from Aunt Marie, Aunt Vicki, my Dad, Eileen (my stepmom), and my younger brothers and my mom.
The list could go on.

I might be in my metamorphosis stage right now. And I am certainly still working on myself to help better the world. I'm still trying to figure out what that means for me, exactly.
And those people above had a hand in it.
When I feel my heart overflow for someone, it is because of the love and caring that these people have showered on me.

And adults everywhere should be so mindful of the little eyes that look up to us and the little hands that need holding.
While they may be the future
We are the now.

Are You Sick Of These Boring Posts Yet?

2007-09-05T19:42:00.000-07:00

These past few weeks have been a little nutty here.

With Connor starting school.
Both vehicles in and out of the shop on a eerie rotating schedule.
Now Gracie starts preschool tomorrow.
I start my first day at the preschool tomorrow.
And classes start back up for me at the school of higher education.

Things are starting anew in waves.
Just when we get in a groove
newness crashes in all around us in a refreshing and near-drowning frenzy of excitement and anticipation.

My mind has been both too full and too empty lately.
At the same time.

I wish I had something thrilling to report today.
I really don't.
I've spent the day awash in mundane planning and floating in seas of laundry.
Nothing so much thrilling there.

Here's to September and the subsequent changing of seasons.
And here's to having something to say.
We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Dignity In The Diner

2007-09-04T05:20:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been thinking a lot about growing old and maintaining dignity.
I've been thinking about how I envision myself still vibrant and active when I hit my elder years.
I don't know if that is what will happen.
But that's what I hope for myself.

I've seen many an elderly person turn into a bitter shell of the young people they once were.
I listen to the lonely in their voice and think I'd probably sound just as scared and bitter when faced with this kind of lonely and/or this kind of pain on a daily basis. Who could stand to live with such physical pain?
Not to mention, feeling worthless and left behind.

I think each gender struggles with that worthless feeling, but in different aspects.
Males feel it after a life spent working and providing and no longer being able to do so.
And females feel it after a life spent working and caretaking and no longer feeling needed and valuable.

And of course growing old with dignity, I'm mindful of how our bodies and our minds can turn on us on a dime and we have no control over that either.
And again, just how scary that must be.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On Saturday, we rolled out of bed early, threw on some clothes and took the kids to our favorite diner for breakfast.
And can I quickly just tell you how much I adore going out to breakfast on a weekend morning?
I LOVE it. I love sitting down to a cup of coffee made by someone else and being waited on.
The anticipation of the meal.....
Anyway...we all love this diner.

We walk in and there is a crowd by the door waiting to be seated.
Gracie is hanging out in my arms "being shy".
And Connor is dancing around the register counter waiting to pick out his lollipop (don't ask) with Rav.

Gracie and I head off to one side as the door/register/waiting area are very close together and we are trying to leave room for people to walk through.
And as we're standing there I look over to my right (where there is an alcove of sorts with about 6 booths and a narrow walkway to get to those booths) and there is an elderly gentleman with a walker. He is trying to make his way to his table and gets stopped by a fellow female patron who knows him. He apparently has been battling a cold and has stopped to ask him how he's feeling and just generally speak to him.
As they are speaking a waitress and a female buser (is it with 2 s's?) are waiting to get by.
The waitress gets huffy and walks away.
And the buser tries to scoot past and can't.
So she waits.
Another female buser walks up to her and they begin speaking in their native language and are most obviously talking about this gentleman.
The waitress then walks back and sees he is now making his way back to his booth, very slowly, but is making his way nonetheless.
And as she is standing behind him, she is shaking her head and muttering nastily under her breath.
The poor fellow gets the wheel to his walker stuck, which hinders his forward motion, and her agitation grows.
(Mind you, this woman - the waitress - is middle-aged. Probably in her late 50's).

I was so taken aback by such passively cruel behavior.
Never once did she offer to help him.
Never once did she try to move him along by simply talking to him and escorting him to his table.
And he didn't even know the subtle "cruelty" that was being pushed in his direction.
Which is probably for the best.
But I saw it.
And it bothered me.
And I did nothing.

I worry about elders and those incapable of caring for themselves being subjected to cruelty in facilities - let's face it, it happens - it's happening in my home state right now. Today.
And fret over what is being done to these people or not done.
And I can't do anything about it.
I'm one person who can't save the world.

But here I was in a public place and saw such a disgusting display of intolerance.
And I chose to do nothing.
Because I was waiting in line with my family to get served a $5.00 breakfast.
And I chose to not act.

This got me thinking about all of the times we choose not to act over things we think are "little" or "benign". And how they really add up.

We might not see how one action or inaction effects the other, but they do.

I again do my infamous projecting and wonder if I would want someone to stand up for me or help out if that were me or Rav in that restaurant.
And of course, the answer is yes.
Those of us who can, need to rally for those who can't for themselves.

Little kindnesses.
Little kindnesses.
Growing older and growing period, with dignity.

I'm still working on it.

Another Sunday Morning Song by Rav

2007-09-02T07:04:00.000-07:00

Today, at the end of the summer, I am reminded of when Tabba and I met. At the end of that summer we were faced with daunting prospects. Both of us were planning on attending school. At the time, Tab was living about 45 minutes south of me, and her school was about an hour and a half south of me. After 2 months of constantly being together, we were faced with spending a lot of time apart. The thought was unbearable to me, and to Tabba. Anyway, I played this song for her because it seemed fitting. The song is Haven't Seen For a While, by the Pat McGee Band. This band is mostly a bar band. They have had some success in the southern states, and I believe that they originally are from the Carolinas. I had the privelage of seeing them in Philly, and I met Pat McGee when he came to the University of Delaware to play. The particular version of this song is not my favorite. The album version is much better, but there are no good videos of this tune. Pat McGee is the gentleman on the guitar, without the cowboy hat. If you have ever been separated from your significant other for any length of time, this song will probably resonate in you too.....

Magic In The Night

2007-08-31T13:00:00.000-07:00

**Edited to add a Youtube video**
At the end of a long, hard day I make my way up the steps to take my place next to my beloved.
Nothing feels better than my side of the bed, feeling the warm, electric skin of my man on his side. It's what keeps me hanging on.

The steps lead me to my peaceful spot.
And as I ascend, ghosts of the day travel them with me.
Countless trips up and down them by clopping kid feet.
It reverberates and haunts - these apparitions that flash by and through me as I make my way up to the spot that is calling me.
I can hear the echo of a giggle or a jump from the last step to the living room floor.
But I know my kids are safe and sound asleep in their beds.

My kids.
My kids.
My kids.

They are kids.
As much as I hold on to the last shred of baby that they may still carry hidden.
It's the baby in them that only I can see, as their mom.
Their mom.
Their mom.
Their mom.

Sometimes I long to hold their little tiny baby butts in my arms.
To feel that soft, hard lump on my forearm.
To smell their baby smell.
To touch their baby cheeks.

I reach the top of the steps and all these thoughts float and disappear into the air with the ghosts of the day.
And I stand in front of two doors.
One is my refuge.
And one is full of magic.

The magic of what happens in the night when peace washes over these kids. My kids.
The magic that transforms them from the kids they are becoming
and shines a light onto the babies that are still there on the inside and by some trick you can still see only when they sleep.

It is a secret that I've kept and have now unearthed.
The magic that I see in the night.
To revisit that babyhood.
For only a minute before I bed down next to my love.
The love and the man that helped create that magic.

Just Because......

2007-08-30T11:34:00.000-07:00

I am absolutely exhausted for no good reason and I felt like doing something tedious, I present you a complete list of artists that reside in my iPod right now. Feel like poking your eyes out with a shrimp fork yet? If the answer is no, just try to read the post below and you will. This post was inspired by a post over at Phenom's World. So you have him to thank for this :)!! (just kidding, don't send him any hate mail)
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50Cent The88 AC/DC Aimee Mann Al B. Sure All-American Rejects Amos Lee Amy Winehouse Animal Liberation Orchestra Aqualung Aretha Franklin The Beatles Ben Folds Five Ben Harper Billie Holiday Blink 182 Blue Merle Bob Marley Bobby Darin Bonnie Raitt Bright Eyes Bruce Springsteen Cat Stevens Chamillionaire Cibo Matto Coldplay Colm Wilkinson Corinne Bailey Rae Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young Damien Rice Dashboard Confessional Dave Matthews Band David Bowie David Gray Death Cab For Cutie Depeche Mode Dire Straits Dixie Chicks Donovan Frankenreiter The Eagles The Eels Elizabeth Mitchell & Lisa Loeb Elton John Elvis Costello Fall Out Boy Feist Fergie Fiona Apple Foo Fighters Frank Black Frank Sinatra The Fray G. Love & Special Sauce Garth Brooks Glenn Miller Gorillaz Gran Bel Fisher Indigo Girls J-Kwon Jack Johnson James Blunt James Brown Jay-Z John Butler Trio John Corbett John Mayer John Williamson Johnny Cash Joni Mitchell Jose Gonzalez Josh Ritter Josh Rouse Joss Stone Judy Garland Justin Timberlake Kelly Clarkson Keren Ann The Killers The Knife KT Tunstall Led Zeppelin Les Miserables The Little Willies Louis Jordan & Chris Barber Lucinda Williams Ludwig van Beethoven Lynrd Skynrd Macy Gray Madeleine Peyroux Mahalia Jackson Mama Cass Mary Poppins Marvin Gaye Mary Chapin Carpenter Massive Attack Matt Costa Me'Shell Ndegeocello Merle Haggard Michael Buble Moms Mabley My Chemical Romance Mystikal Nat King Cole Ne-Yo Neil Diamond Neil Young Neko Case Nickel Creek Norah Jones Otis Redding Pat McGee Band Paul McCartney Paul Simon Pearl Bailey & Moms Mabley Peter Gabriel Pink Prince Professor Longhair Queen Rage Against The Machine Ray LaMontagne Rickie Lee Jones Riders In The Sky Robert Plant Rufus Wainwright Scott Matthews Shakira Shinedown The Shins Simon & Garfunkel The Smashing Pumpkins Snow Patrol Spinto Band Spongebob Squarepants Spoon Stephen Lynch Supertramp System Of A Down Talking Heads Teitur Tom Waits Tracy Chapman Van Halen Veggie Tales The Waitresses Weezer White Stripes Wilco Yo La Tengo Erykah Badu Sense and Sensibility Soundtrack O Brother Where Art Thou Soundtrack The Meters Alison Krauss Dolly Parton Willie Nelson Andrews Sisters Beach Boys The Beastie Boys Counting Crows Cowboy Junkies DJ Sammy Lauryn Hill Julie Andrews LL Cool J Marilyn Manson Papa Roach Puddle of Mudd Sarah McLachlan Seal U2 Randy Travis Ray Charles Jamiroquai Black Eyed Peas Beck Sia John Lennon Randy Newman Louis Armstrong Will Smith Raffi

Say 'Ello To My Lit'le Friend

2007-08-28T17:54:00.000-07:00

We have two small flower beds on either side of our front door.

And this "little" guy has been hanging out near the Calla Lillies and the front of the house.

Rav absolutely hates spiders.

I'm not really a fan of them either.

But they serve a purpose and I can't bear to bring this guy to a brutal end.

I'll let him hang out as long as he sees fit and take care of the pesky mosquitos.

Everytime Gracie sees him, she exlcaims Look! See him?!?! See the ginormous spider?!?!

The Art of Calling 'Em Like You See 'Em

2007-08-27T18:50:00.000-07:00

My daughter has recently become very interested in other little girls.

So when she sees them when we're out at the store, waiting to pick Connor up from school, or walking by our house she waves enthusiastically and says hello.

Seems rather harmless, right?

It even seems a bit nice.

I should be proud that my little girl is so friendly.

I am. Really.

Until.....

The other night the famiglia de Ravioli was heading out to pick up a dress that my BFF's daughter was lending me for that wedding we attended on Saturday.

We were walking out the door and as we are doing so, Gracie spots two girls walking down the sidewalk in front of our house.

Like the sweet little darling she is, she is waving at them like there is no tomorrow and saying Hi!!!! (she's so enthusiastic about this)

The older of the two girls (in her teens) smiles, laughs and says Hi.

Gracie is so enthusiastic, remember.

She is still waving and saying hi.

But she hasn't heard a response from the younger girl. Only the older girl.

The younger girl is wearing a black eye patch.

We've seen her before in the neighborhood and she is always wearing the eye patch.

So Gracie in all of her waving enthusiasm says

Hi!!!!!

Hi, pirate!!!!!

I quickly scoot her over to the car, where I commence doubling over and try to stifle fits of laughter.

Because it was so wrong.

And she didn't mean to be.

But she was.

Rav caught on to what happened (he's a quick one, my man).

And we're both caught in a fit of laughter that is probably considered inappropriate.

But what are we to do?

The kids catch on to what we are laughing at.

And the entire way down to my BFF's house we hear from the back seat, in unison

Hi!!!!!

Hi, pirate!!!!

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment

2007-08-26T11:12:00.000-07:00

Last night, Rav & I joined his parents, his three older brothers and their wives at a wedding for a childhood friend of all of the Ravioli brothers. (if you'd like to check out my brother-in-laws post on the wedding and some pictures of the famiglia de Ravioli, check out fatmarc)

It is very rare that all 8 of us (the brothers and the wives) are together in one room anymore because of busy lives, geography, kids, etc.
So when we all get together it really is a treat.
And we are often looked upon as that table or oh, those people.
It's not a bad thing. In fact it's quite funny.

The wedding took place in a beautiful church in center city Philadelphia.
The bride and groom were stunning.
Both families looked wonderful, proud, and happy.
The bride is of Philippine descent and it was lovely to see some of her culture blended into the ceremony.
All of the guests made the walk to the venue which was just a few blocks away.
And the reception venue was absolutely gorgeous.

Rav & I have become quite the wedding connoisseurs lately, as we have been to approximately 11 weddings in 4 years.
And this wedding was pretty tops for many reasons.

The friendship, love, and harmonious blending of different cultures, backgrounds, orientations was so elegantly pulled off.
And there are many details I could delve into.
But the bottomline is that all of the exterior things, the things that categorize people really shouldn't matter.
And this couple got that - gets that.
At the end of the day, love is love. It has no bounds and it doesn't exclude.
It is there in the beginnings and endings of the days despite the petty trappings we try to confine love to.
Love doesn't always conform and love doesn't look for norms.
Love just is.

When we were seated at our tables we were given a card that thanked the guests for celebrating, it offered an email address where you could send any pictures you have taken of the day to share with the bride and groom. And on the back of the card was this wedding favor:

In lieu of favors we have made a donation to "Freedom to Marry" to support those who are denied the right to enter the institution of marriage. Today we celebrate the finest and most noble expressions of marriage - love, commitment, and responsibility - while rejecting discrimination and prejudice.
http://www.freedomtomarry.org/

I thought this to be the most noble gesture two people could make on a day to beat all noble gestures.

My heart forever melts for this couple who so rightly love each other and love others so eloquently. I raise my glass to J & K. A couple so deserving of a love and life full of endless possibilities.

This song is for them (it is the song they danced to) and for all of those who have someone but by some ridiculous right-wing agenda cannot enter into the institution of marriage.

I hope you enjoy Forever by Ben Harper

The Sweet Sounds of Morning Conversation

2007-08-23T06:12:00.000-07:00

Me: (laying in bed, stretching, yawning) I got absolutely no f*cking sleep last night.

Rav: (laying in bed, stretching, yawning) I think I slept OK. Until that little bitch Dora woke me up! The TV was on all night and I didn't hear a thing, but I heard that sh*t at 6:00 a.m. and popped right up.

Me: (now laughing) Me too!!! I had finally fallen asleep and that f*cking song woke me up out of a dead sleep.

Rav: (now getting pissy and singing) F*cking "Dora, Dora, Dora the Explorer!"......"I'm the map, I'm the map, I'm the map. If there's a place you gotta go, I'm the one you need to know. I'm the map". F*cking Dora. I hate that little b*tch.

Me: (laughing uncontrollably and thinking to myself that this would make great blog fodder).

It's the little stuff, you know? The little stuff like cursing like sailors at 6:20 a.m.

It truly is the sign of a great day ahead.

The Day My Heart Went Walking Outside Of My Body

2007-08-22T06:01:00.000-07:00

About an hour ago, we dropped our first-born off for his first day of all-day kindergarten. As much as I have been looking forward to this, I was the only tearful mom in the school lobby. I couldn't hold back the tears off happiness for my boy's new adventure, the longing of days now gone by, worry, and trepidation from starting something new. This is the first real step in the separation that begins between momma and her cub. It is necessary and hard.

But it is good too. Deep down I am happy.
My heart aches a little for the profound silence in the house.
But it is good.

My main goal is to have my children fly - to soar. And they are getting there.
His feet are just barely off of the ground. But they are. And I am proud and happy.

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Making the decision to have a child - it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside of your body. ~ Elizabeth Stone

Beware: kids next door are the nasty neighbors

2007-08-21T11:35:00.000-07:00

Today I was getting dressed to head into my new/old work to get the room set-up for Open House next week.
And while I was getting dressed I had the TV tuned in to the Today Show (I don't even know why I torture myself with it anymore).
And when I happened to turn it on, the segment that was on was about Tips To Avoid Nasty Neighbors or some such nonsense when you are in the market of buying a new home.
Some of the "tips" made sense. Most of them seemed utterly ridiculous. And some tips were missed all together.
Some of the no-no's were:
-don't buy a house that is on a garbage route (um, hello. aren't we all on a garbage route?)
-don't buy a house that is next door to a Halfway House (this bothered me)
-don't buy a house near a 4 way stop/intersection
-don't buy a house near a bus stop

Some of the one's I think were missed were:
-don't buy a house near train tracks
-don't buy a house near a nuclear power plant
-don't buy a house near an airport
-don't buy a house on an ambulance route
-don't buy a house near a highway/freeway/or road
-don't buy a house near a foghorn
-don't buy a house near a firestation
***note*** some of these are my being irritated and sarcastic

But what really bothered me was that the woman who was being interviewed made the suggestion that you go and ride by the house you are looking at during rush hour so that you can see who the screaming moms are. And you can see which houses use a basketball hoop, a skateboard ramp, and/or trampoline.

What is the deal? Why are you targeting "screaming moms" and kids?

Look, I understand kids are noisy.
And so are their parents.
I understand people wanting a peaceful place to live.
And if you can believe this or not, people with kids even want a peaceful place to live.

Is it seriously offensive to hear kids at play?
Is that really such an awful sound?
Are we becoming so serious and uptight of a society that we can handle hearing a lawn mower symphony at 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning, but can't handle the giggles of kids who are bouncing on a trampoline?
I would certainly rather hear the sounds of police and ambulance sirens than hear kids playing basketball.
Woudln't you? (again, with the sarcasm)

Like I said, I totally understand kids can be a royal pain in the ass.
They make noise.
Is that such a news flash?
But I almost feel that people with kids are being lumped into the not in my backyard, not in my neighborhood pot.

I Love You, Man!

2007-08-20T04:54:00.001-07:00

It's been just barely over a year since I've started blogging.
And from time to time I go back and reread all of that "original" content and cringe a bit.
Back then I was trying to find my voice here, trying to figure out what it really and truly was that I wanted to say, and trying to figure out how much of myself I wanted to expose.

I tried to figure this whole blogging thing out.
And I'm not sure if I've really made any progress in that department or not.
Because much of it still baffles me.
Trying to assign 3-D circumstances to 2-D interactions can be difficult.
And finally letting go a bit and ignoring my statcounter was a HUGE help.

What caught me most off guard is the sea of friendly voices, supportive voices that are so willing to lift others up (including me).
You've done it time and again and I am so grateful and lucky.
I put a post up about a serious thought, issue, a happening, a funny little tale, or where I gush about my kids and my man and you all respond.

Some of you have even been kind enough to nominate me for awards.
Awards that I've lost the buttons for because I've changed my template so many times (and forgot to save those things before I made the change).
Some awards I could easily get the button for, but to be honest have been just too lazy to put up (mostly because I feel that maybe I don't deserve them).
You all always think of me.
And I, you.

Yesterday, Mary-LUE awarded me the following award:

And I believe the deal with this award is that I have to pass it on to 7 people. I really don't know how to pass this on to only 7. So, the only fair way I can think to do this is if you are listed in my blogroll, I am formally passing this on to you. If you have this award already, then bonus. If not, the button is now yours.

Because each and every one of you deserves it.

For any men in my blogroll - that would be you Denguy and Phenom's World - sorry about the girly button. You don't have to display it. But know that I am passing it on to you, as well.

So, seriously....look over there. If you are there, the award is yours. Don't be shy. Take it.

And, thank you for being friends.

Sunday Morning Song of the Moment

2007-08-18T16:19:00.001-07:00

As you know, I've been struggling for content. And a silly little story came to mind that I thought I would share.
Picture it.
Delaware.
2007.
In an elementary classroom about 20 families squeeze in the hot, cramped art room.
Some sit down at tables.
Some stand around the perimeter of the room.
They are all there to take interest in pre-reading for their soon-to-be kindergartners.
As the princpal addresses the families, the famiglia de Ravioli is hanging in the back.
The kids in seats at the table.
The parents propping themselves up against the counter.
The kids are behaving.
The parents are listening.
And then their daughter......she makes her presence known.
Their daughter dressed in her little pink and purple plaid halter dress and her Janna's.
She couldn't look more like a little girl if she tried.
She is sitting primly in her seat, staring straight ahead at full attention, listening to the principal.
And then. Then.
She busted one.
A loud one.
She turns to her parents, who despite themselves and their daughter are giggling and laughing up a storm, she beams a beautiful smile and says Ooops! I tooted!!
Yes, Jess. I even detected a mighty wind. As mighty as it could be coming from a 3 year old.

And that brings me to the song for this week.
It's pretty standard.
But it always makes me happy to hear it.
Enjoy!

Just Thinking About The Weather

2007-08-18T04:43:00.000-07:00

I'd say that I'm pretty in-tune to my surroundings.
And my senses have been operating at a heightened awareness lately.
I'm not really sure what that is all about.

Yesterday, for instance, I was driving home in the Rover with the kids and had the windows down. And next to us in the fast lane were two tractor trailer trucks. And the noise that the trucks issued was almost more than I could take. In fact, I thought my eardrums would burst and my head were about to explode.
Maybe it's the sign of growing older, maybe it's just this heightened awareness.
I'm not sure.
But I think it's my senses.

Usually I can feel things, sense things around me.
Often I know what is going to happen before it does.
Sometimes there is just a vibration or something that I can just pick up on.

This morning I've woken up to a drastic change in the weather/air here.
Rather than it being 80 degrees at 8:00 in the morning with 95% humidity, it's more like 60 something degrees and not one ounce of humidity.
There is certainly a fall feel to the air.
I want to run out right now and buy Connor a bunch of school clothes.
It just has that feel.

As the pot brewed it's coffee, I turned off the air conditioner and threw open all of the windows.
A slight breeze pushes it's way through the screen and makes itself known across my skin.
And it feels wonderful.

I'm not delusional.
I know that August is not quite done with us and will probably find the time to beat us with high temps and high humidity.
But I feel a break.
A release of something with this new breathe-able air.

Next week, Connor will begin his formal public education.
He will be entering all-day kindergarten.
Gracie begins her second year at preschool.
And I begin my new/old work at the preschool.
As well as my classes starting up.
Which I am more than looking forward to.
My brain is in desperate need of a jump-start.

There is a change brewing.
I feel it in the air this morning.
I think I can even smell it.

And I haven't been this excited in months.
I couldn't tell you why.
But I am.