Freaky Friday

Good Morning blog peeps,
So I just went through my two blogs from yesterday and did some much needed editing - holy typos batman. I really do need an editor, I am horrible at editing my own work. I rarely read my posts before I hit the publish button, and if I do, because I know my own expression - I skim the words at best - doesn't make for great editing. I apologize for all the moments in yesterdays blogs where the continuity was disrupted by the wrong word or a missing letter. I will work on that, I promise.
Today is Friday and I should be at work, but I feel like ass and so I have called in sick for the day - no linen for me today.
It's not exactly that I feel miserably ill, it's more that my throat hurts and my voice is shot - a goner, I have no doubt that my children will capitalize on my inability to scream at them btw - I probably would be safer at the shop, truth be told...This week has been kinda hellish and not the least bit relaxing.
I would do best on a beach in solitary confinement - I could use a little alone time and some tides to watch as they move in and then out....
I either have a virus or my thyroid is to the point of extreme compression and tightness. The raspy Stevie Nicks thing I have got going on cannot be cured by tea and spoons of honey or the gazillion cough drops I have been sucking. Raw tongue by the way, that may permanently taste like mentholated strawberries. Gross.
Yesterday in the course of like a half an hour three people noticed and commented at my swollen neck - and dramatic like too.
Mary and I discussed the possibility that maybe it won't be the Nan's who will disrupt the PH book writing week, it could very well be the thyroid - my appointment to access the situation is June 30th - five days before I am supposed to fly home - what if they say this stupid enormous gland is cutting off my vocal chords and it needs to come out? I will admit, I cannot currently swallow my calcium supplement or my daily vitamin horse pill - or eat any kind of bread (especially french) which out of the three unswallowables, is the okay one, because yeah, no gluten anyways = no breads.
They make gluten free breads, bagels etc. but, every time I consider buying a loaf, I think "can I swallow that - do I even miss bread?" No, not really - I really don't miss bread.
Although I would be lying if I didn't tell you that last night I picked up a piece of the Artisan garlic bread (whole cloves baked in the bread oh my) and sniffed it, deeply inhaled the aroma - fought the urge to bite it for like a half a second.
I keep reminding myself that this no gluten no dairy business is MY choice and I can cheat if I want, but so far so good - minus the bite of Brian's almond snicker bar the other night - yum, that is a good candy bar.
On a positive note, my Nana has apparently come out of the danger zone enough to be moved from ICU and I say with mixed feelings - PHEW.
Maybe I will get to see her again :)
What a week of worrying and looming though - so stressful.
Mary's Nana also has a stellar day yesterday - these two old broads are definitely our Grandmother's - fighters....And so, we may just get off without tragedy for the time being. (shouldn't have said that - just knocked on wood)
Maybe the lost voice is a manifestation of the stress - bet my family wishes this would happen all school year long. College work load stress on top of crazy life = no voice for Mom....It would amount to total anarchy around here, they would probably have me tied up in the closet by the end of one silent week with me...
Let's hope it's temporary and let's hope that the rasp isn't permanent - I cannot sing right now to save my soul. I lost my mind momentarily yesterday in the shower and began to belt out the National Anthem (I haven no good explanation) - what came out sounded like a dying animal begging for mercy...It shamed our country for sure.
I kinda remind myself of Courtney Love right now and even I find that a little disturbing - the crack head voice is bad news.
If I get to see Nana and sound like this, she is not gonna be happy.
I fell asleep last night watching Anderson Cooper (this is a subject change btw), he was discussing the days events regarding the Casey Anthony trial - I have to go on record as saying "Are you fucking serious?" -
My gut tells me she totally killed her daughter, IDK why I feel that, but I do with every fiber of my being. And I just have to say "Really Casey, really?" - why not just let her live and give her up - get back to your partying ways and allow that innocent child to realize her life's potential? Man that pisses me off so bad.
And I am of the mind that typically when a Mother kills her child it it because she is suffering from a mental illness and the voices say "kill them" - very rarely do I feel it is from a selfishness, a throw away effect, the whole my party life would be better served without you - I feel like Casey Anthony thought just that as she tossed her two year old in the trunk of her car and smelled the rotting flesh.
A child's death at the hand of their parent has surely got to be the most tragic death of all - what do they think as they look at the person they love most extinguishing their very life?
It is no wonder this case is getting so much attention - it is infuriating, confusing, sad beyond conception.
I am a cynic when it comes to our legal system, often feel like the process is more political than anything BUT in this case I hope the truth comes out and that justice IS served.
And I guess it is possible that she didn't do it, although her pathological lying certainly indicates an fundamental instability and character deficit.
I wish parents would not kill their kids - I wish that violence at all would cease to exist. I hate it in every form.
And enough said there because now my own blood is boiling in my veins.
I dislike the feeling of a blood boil - I feel it a lot, built to get all emotionally charged - it's how I grow.
Speaking of growing....My kids are growing like weeds and I will admit it is freaking me out. Don't get me wrong, I CANNOT wait until they are a little more self sufficient, a little less needy - I hear "MOMMY CAN YOU...." like a gazillion times a day, oh my - BUT when it comes to my Emma girl, I will admit that it is pushing my panic button already. This morning when I got up, she was in my bed (she always is) and I looked at her long and hard before I went to brush my fangs. I lingered over every fine detail from her head to her toe and walked away feeling like I had been punched in my gut.
Here's why. She's beautiful. This morning she was wearing a pair of PJ bottoms like my very own, baggy cotton with some silly design all over them. She had the waist band turned over twice just like I do mine and she was wearing a thin spaghetti strapped tank top - her bare tan shoulders a stark contrast to the crisp white shirt.
Her bleach blonde hair was in a mass of tangles and curls and hung around her face in all the right places accentuating her freckles and chiseled chin - my heart stopped beating at the sight of such beauty - her long limbs wrapped around blankets and pillows, she looked like a perfect pearl all snug in a clam shell. I wanted to eat her, every pretty little inch. She's huge and she is not really a "little" girl anymore. Yes she is only almost eight, but she is changing right now as I type - she is getting closer and closer to puberty and it is freaking me out bad!
I fear for her, really I do. I think that she will amount to an effortless beauty, the kind of girl that does absolutely nothing to up keep and is gorgeous despite not a lick of make up present. She is going to be the hair gathered a mess on top of her head, in sweat pants and a tshirt type, that makes young men yearn to get in her comfort zone with her.
She is going to be like me, only a thousand times more beautiful and with legs that reach to the very heavens.
Let me clarify that when I say like me, I don't exactly mean in the physical sense - I mean more alike in spirit - she is wide open and hysterical just like me - a lover like her Momma and a deep thinker to boot.
She will be an attention target and this stresses my nerves beyond belief, already sigh.
I have always been told by men that I ooze sexuality. I have no idea what the hell that means, but I will say that whatever it is that I give off, it is unintentional as far as instigation is concerned (most of the time)
My personality and "I don't care what you think" stance has always made people, especially men interested and speculative about what it is I have got going on.
I keep my goings on, mostly to myself although I do connect profoundly with a lot of people in need.
I KNOW that I am mistakenly judged a lot and I worry about that for Emma Claire. She is not going to give a rat's ass what anyone thinks either and that is easily perceived as something altogether different, especially to men.
Men view "I don't care what you think" as "oh yes please dominate me, yes yes yes"
I don't know why that is - never really have understood the man brain.
SO how will I keep my natural beauty with her wide open lovers spirit, safe???
UGH.
Where is an ugly stick I can beat her with so at least the outside attracts less attention???
I'm no Casey Anthony - clearly that's metaphorical.
All Mom's of daughters have to go through this right? Seems inevitable that when you catch the momentary glimpses of them as teenagers you freak the fuck out...
I know I did this morning.
I want to kiss her all over, why wouldn't everyone else.
I want to protect her from everything ugly in the world, but especially from the ugliness that comes with being female. We are so objectified in our society - I could dress all dowdy and buttoned up conservatively, but that would just confuse her because clearly she understands her mom is a rainbow. Gotta be true to yourself despite what others contrive...
I will just have to talk to her a lot about owning her power and not abusing it - we females DO rule the world.
I will have to teach her that yes, her outer is pretty BUT her inner is even prettier and she needs to guard that and selectively share, hold her cards close to her chest and by way, close to her own heart - and my weak one....sigh.
Good thing about my Mimz is she has an army of older brothers - no boys will get within a hundred feet of her without having their lives threatened three times over first - Thank you God for birth order....I will work with those brutes on effective intimidation tactics.
Simply put, gotta do what I gotta do :)
Well, I need more tea and to do a shot of honey - throat is killing me, so off I go.(where ever have I heard that phrase before?)
I hope you all have a beautiful Friday and a glorious weekend full of happiness and joy.
Peace and lots of Love xo