For Catherine.

Holy Cow it is actually a little chilly out here on my deck this early Tuesday Morn - break - let me grab a throw....
Ahh that is better. Steaming coffee and a soft blanket and the birds singing and you....What could be any better first thing in the morning? NOT SLEEP, because I can report that yet again, I have had a full eight hours and fell right asleep mind you, despite the thrill of Victory that lingered in my overstimulated body after last night's INSANE GAME 6 WIN!!!!! If I can sleep after that, than gluten be damned I don't need you.
Wow, can I hear an AMEN my New England peeps? WOW talk about stress....And so off we go back to Vancouver for GAME 7 and the cup....I have no idea what to say, or if I should say anything - I am afraid to say the wrong thing and therefore secure our demise....We Bostonians have a way of holding ourselves personally responsible for losses. It's the wrong underwear or that we watched, we ate the wrong food, we cheered too loudly at a Canucks unfortunate check off the boards - whatever the case we find a way to take the responsibility - and so I sit here, contemplating - do I remain silent, do I boast, do I exude hope?
No, I say no more.
Everyone knows that I want the BRUINS to get the cup in my lifetime...
I will say, however hesitantly, that game 7 is Wednesday and this is also the evening of my kiddos first official swim meet of the season....
I have to be there...Maybe Boston will do better without me watching? And if it looks as though they will win - I may have to leave, because oh my, I would hate myself for all eternity if I missed the victory lap cup overhead.
Oh God, I have said too much now. DONE.....
Ahhh sigh, I am in such a great mood....Yesterday proved to be one of those beautiful unexpected days that reminds me how full circle life really is...
I am a very kind person. I am very loving too and more than anything, extremely PERCEPTIVE - especially when it comes to other peoples emotions and needs. I FEEL you, long before you tell me anything. I have always been this way - I count this as one of my God given gifts. Thing is, having waded through the mucky shit of my life, having had so much pain and so much grief, having so little love of my own - has made that perception SENSE of mine even stronger. Because I have been a cast off alone in the shit, it is my instinct to wade in with others and if nothing else, if not pull them straight out of the muck, at least hang out with them there and let them know they are not alone....
If you asked me when I was eight if one day I would feel grateful for my loneliness, I would have poked you in the eye and said "what are you stupid?" - But now here today, I say my lonely has served me really well. And that yes, life does come full circle.
Had I not been who I was, Fatherless and so distinctly different from my Mother, if Omar had not died, if my first husband had not caused me and my kids so much pain - I may not have the keen ability I now possess to recognize pain in others. I wouldn't trade my past for a pretty one if it meant losing or never developing this bi-product.
Yesterday was a powerful day for me - it was one of those days that fills me up with self love and gratitude, the kind of day that makes me appreciate the red saturation of the roses a little more.
I was in my store - doing what I do...Listening to a woman brow beat herself for all her physical faults and failures. I got pissed and said "okay listen, I have been hearing this same self abusive mantra from women for two weeks straight now, I don't know if it's bathing suit season that has you all self deprecating or what - but this has got to stop before I freak out - you ARE BEAUTIFUL so stop with the self damnation!" from the front of the store I heard a quiet and meek "AMEN sister" and I searched over the rack tops to find the source of camaraderie. There she was this pint sized, middle aged blonde with the kindest eyes I have ever seen...Not only kind, ALONE AND SCARED too....Hmmmmmm? What is that about? When I finished up with my reformed self hater, Catherine (the pint sizer) told me that she was going to come back - she had an appointment but wanted to return and allow me to "have my way" with her - she said and I quote "I think you are just the girl to make me feel better" Alrighty then Cutie pie you go and I will see you in a bit....I wondered, why the pain in the eyes - why the need to feel better, why could I feel her in my own gut and why was I thinking SOS someone throw me a life line?
She returned several hours later and said "Do what you will to me, dress me, just make it fun like your outfit, make me feel how you look"....
And so I began to pull things that she would never imagine herself in and told her to get down to underwear - let's do this thing.
When she came out of the dressing room and stood in the three way and looked at herself, I immediately regarded disapproval - she was unsatisfied with her mid- section, felt unbelievably less than or wait, more than....I said "I'm going to touch you now" and ran my hands along the long lines explaining to her how the cut elongated her short frame, how the pattern drew the eye down and not directly at the mid line like she was thinking. I made her look at me and said "I don't lie to women about their looks, I don't work on commission, there is no perk in this for me, I do what I do because I want women to feel good - I won't lie to you, we have to have ground rules here, we have to have trust as our foundation"
She smiled at me, said a resigned "okay" and followed it up with a tear filled "Thank You" - then it happened...
She said, "I am extremely private, I don't share, I don't know why I am telling you this....(pause) I was just diagnosed with cancer and I'm scared"
sigh, well up, hug and I mean hug - rubbed her back and pulled her in so close we could have passed for the same person....She explained the treatments were making her gain weight and she felt all wrong in this new and sick body....God love her and oh yeah cancer FUCK YOU!!!!!
Deep breath and I said "well let's get you at least feeling good about you then since I know we can if nothing else achieve that together"
And we did - for two hours I ran back and forth pulling clothes, throwing clothes, piling shit everywhere and when my boss came to give me lunch and wondered why at 3pm I refused to acknowledge I should pass her the baton, I jotted on a piece of private paper.
SHE WAS DIAGNOSED WITH CANCER - I CAN'T LEAVE HER.
My boss sent the new girl on an errand to retrieve a salad for me and sat back and watched as I got in the shit of cancer with Catherine and tried to make her feel, if nothing else less afraid and less alone....
Catherine had a call while in the dressing room, someone inquiring how her appointment at UVA had gone, she choked up and couldn't speak - we hugged again, even tighter this time - everything is going to be okay.
She really loved the color turquoise, said it made her feel alive and I had NOTHING that fit her in that beautiful healing color - nothing except for the perfect piece hanging in my own closet at home. The perfect piece, exactly what she needed actually and so I offered it up to her, we made a date for a return visit on Friday - I bring her my turquoise wrap and she gets a piece of me to have to cloak herself in when she feels like she is drowning in the shit all by herself.
She said (like I was giving her my kidney or something) "You would do that for me?" I said "Are you kidding me with that shit - what wouldn't I do for a soul sister in trouble?"
Because that is who I am at my bare bones.
And yup toot toot (my own horn) - I am happy to be me.
I have these experiences often enough, that I rarely don't feel blessed to be a spirit healer - when I begin to feel empty of the full circle effect, a Catherine walks in my door and reminds me that had my life not sucked, I wouldn't give half a a shit as much as I do about other peoples pain.
I thank my Mother for every moment she didn't hug me - it gave me the goods to hug perfect strangers and extend myself to most everyone.
Thanks Ma.
And so today I wear a smile like my badge of honor.
I told Catherine that next time she makes the trip to UVA she should hit me up and we could have a lunch date - her eyes filled up - she said she would like that very much.
And then to make her feel whole and not a sympathy case - I injected my sick humor and said "Oh don't get all ego inflated or anything, you aren't the first customer I have befriended" and she smiled bigger and mouthed the words 'thank you' because she is no dummy and knew exactly what I was up to.
I don't like you for your cancer Catherine, I like you because you told me....
I like connecting. I LOVE connecting....It is why I live and why after fourteen years I still work in fucking retail.
And when all was said and done, my boss who almost never offers praise was overheard saying to the new girl "Just watch Deb and emulate, she is the best, brilliant at what she does - how she moves, how she connects, how she teases and jokes, she is a master".....OMG did she say that???
Whatevs, what I do is love, that's all I really do. Screw the paper work, the sales, the time clock - I am in it all for the love.
SMILE SMILE SMILE.
If I made you vomit far all my sappy self back patting - sorry.
But I worked really hard, suffered to get these goods and I openly embrace it, even when it makes people want to barf for all my silly gushing.
There is a point to suffering if you get up over that summit - then it's easy money on the down hill coast with a big swollen heart to serve as your counterweight.
sssshhhhh GO BRUINS GO!!!!
love and hugs :)

Monday Mornin you sure look fine.

Ooopps I did it again - bed at ten o'clock - well more like ten thirty but who is counting minutes? YAY for sleep.
Although, Emma Claire was up at two am declaring hunger pains that were waking her, so up I got to make her a bagel with strawberry cream cheese and pour my growing girl a glass of milk. After that, I will admit sleep did not return to me easily - there was a whole lot of pillow adjusting, tossing and turning and frustrated sighing.
When I did return to slumber (finally) I dreamed of work and selling linen dresses to the masses, but Ray Lamontagne was there too and he was sad because his Father had passed away and he never really had a chance to form a real relationship with him??? IDK how to explain it - good music in my dream though as he sang to me and all the linen clad ladies in the shop. Like a mini concert in my dream - not so bad.
And so....here I am awake at six am and cranking out a blog before I begin my marathon day of work and then my night class - and....I have my first exam tonight and as usual feel completely unprepared. Obviously if you read my blog last night you know that the slave narrative's are killing me emotionally - my unpreparedness is not for lack of knowing the material - just for me, knowing the material is about knowing the gnawing emotions, not necessarily that dates and times. I have been slacking in my literature classes big time in the "studying" department - I could put my nose to the grindstone a little more and completely relieve myself of any self doubt and ill preparedness - BUT IT'S SUMMER !!! I don't know what I was thinking to be taking a four hour night class on Mondays - yes I do - and you already know the answer too - I love education....Time out of a classroom is time wasted in my mind - Gotta get the knowledge, gotta see yourself in relation to history to know your own power.
And by history I don't just mean actual factual history - I mean all encompassing history - Plato and Socrates, all the great Greek philosophers - the early religions of the world - aboriginal religions - art and music - cartography - geography - wars - etc etc.... I just don't know how anyone can fully comprehend the beauty of their own life without seeing it in context to all that have come before?
And when I say that, I am certainly not implying that those who have not pursued higher education are not living full and meaningful lives or that anyone lacking a college degree is lacking....I just really believe that there is a fine tuned perception and appreciation that exists in the present moments of my life that was certainly nonexistent before I went to school. My scope is broader and I see myself in relation to everything in that wide scope, and that just makes me feel all the more powerful and important.
I would never ever dig anyone or judge them for not going to college, hello life is life and it took me twenty years to muster up the courage - BUT I am a huge advocate and would, will, try to talk anyone and everyone into going to or going back to school.... I am annoyingly reformed. Like worse than any reformed smoker I have ever met.
I have fantasies of being a motivational high school speaker - I see myself telling my stories to the youth and compelling them to GO just GO and don't look back - wait to have babies, wait to join the work force - wait to start a life of adulthood that once begins, never stops - Get your school on first - get your scope good and wide and perpetuate a cycle of the broad view.
Be able to answer your kids homework questions self assuredly - know what an acronym is and know who our twentieth president is - know why we went into world war one and know yourself with confidence. Sigh....If only someone would offer me a job talking candidly to kids preparing to exit high school....If only.
Funny thing about me is that I could go the social work and psychology route very easily, I could switch my major - or I could double major when I transfer to UVA, I could major in English and minor in psych and then be a school counselor - I could, just don't know if I should? Part of me wants to teach myself....Land my ass in a community college just like PVCC where I can be a mentor not only to kids entering college, but to scaredy cat adult students, just like myself. And then a very real part of me, the champion of the hopeless, wants to teach to prisoners - the people who will be sent back out into society after sitting their asses in jail cells getting more pent up and less prepared to reintegrate into society in any meaningful and hope filled sense.
I have fantasies of reading aloud to uneducated prisoners, helping them to hear their own voices in literature, taking my time word for word and ingniting a fire of relatabilty in those who have previously felt cast off from society and alone. Crime comes from desperation and desperation is cured with knowledge - this I know for sure.
Hmmmmm what to do, what to ? You blog readers feel free to make suggestions - it is crazy to not know what other people think of you isn't it?
I think about this a lot. I have very real impressions of people in my life and know what they mean to me, how they have affected me, where their power in my life resides - but how often do we tell each other that really?
I mean I know I do it more than others - but how often do we really know what we mean to other people? Probably not nearly enough...
So hey, don't hesitate to say "Hey Deb, I think you should do this ------ because you make me think this ------"
AT this point in my life I am open to suggestion as my life is already half over...(if I am lucky)
A little guidance and feedback is always a good thing.
And with that invitation I shall end my blog for the day and go get my ass in gear. I think I will go call my wife real quick amd then on to responsibilities, linen and African American History.
And I say this with great hesitency because I am freaking the fuck out - GO BRUINS GO - this is GAME 6 and it's a do or die situation. Please please let them win at home tonight and please please let them get the cup. I will be in class so do not hesitate to text me updates - man my stomach hurts already just at the mention.
have a great day and thanks for reading :)

Thank a man like this we are free at last....

Hi. So I am having a particularly difficult time with the narrative of Frederick Douglass - I believe it to be one of the most brilliant pieces I have ever read. I thought I would share a bit of my school work here with you - an informal response.
If you know not who he is, or who he was and this peaks your interest enough to read about him and his narrative, I have done my work well as a disciple.
If you are American it is your duty to know this - in my opinion. If you are unchanged by it, well than you got a wall up around your heart.





Deborah Poulin

English 253


Response to Frederick Douglass


I am often moved by words. So much so, that I commonly experience physical responses which range from tearing up to feeling literally sick to my stomach. As I uncomfortably made my way through this narrative, I realized that any emotion I previously experienced through fictitious literature or factual had ever evoked such gnawing and raw emotions as this one. I read a good part of it poolside with my earphones on, an attempt to drown out all the playing and laughing children – it worked somewhat although I found myself constantly wiping the sweat from my brow and fighting a gut wrenching cramp that came on simultaneous to the reading. It was hot out yes, brutally so in the sun and forced me to imagine in the moments which I paused and looked up from the small words on the bible like paper, what must it have been like to endure the sun in the plantation fields?
I had to stop reading at one point and get in the pool to submerge myself in the cool water and attempt to loosen my gut muscles which wrenched tight in a fierce and unending spasm. I felt as though I was stuck in a labor contraction that would not deescalate and grant any kind of breathy reprieve. I dove under the water and held myself at the bottom of the pool listening to the underwater sounds that mimic a womb and imagined the earth there – all of us in a continuum of humanity that has suffered set back after set back, so many wars, so much bondage, so much confusion…. I wished that somehow it would stop and know assuredly that it will not and found myself feeling helpless and wanting to cry right there in front of all the playing children. I knew that if I could not control my emotion, these kids less my own, would deem me a crazy lady for they know not the ugliness of the world in their blissful ignorant youth. Why would I ever ruin that, as I know better than anyone the clock arms swim furiously in that direction for each and every child who lives. Innocence is lost too suddenly as it is, and far too often in hatred and ignorance, some bullying of some sort, some question of their own worthiness and where they sit in the chain of command of righteousness. Not today and not in the pool by my example. Instead I let my tears gently stream down my face, imitating trickles of sweat and allowed them to join the salt water and become one with the womb of innocent humanity. I floated in the water on my back and imagined it was a pool of holy water and that I was not one of the Christians that would have hidden behind the biblical verse as a means for justification of beating, lashing, rape and murder. I wondered is there enough holy water in all the churches where the real good do good work in prayer, enough to wash the American white race clean and absolve us of our blood red colored crimes. I determined that in my Christian mind – there is not. I am saddened that the bible was used to beat slaves by verse and hand, whip, chain and now we have coined the term in the south to describe those who are devout to their practice “the bible beaters” even more sick, “the bible belt” ???? – I wonder if that very specific correlation has been made, I am doubtful to be the first to have come across that metaphor and feel the acrid taste of my own stomach contents rise in my throat and mingle unjustly in my mouth. I did not beat anyone and so why do I feel the foul aftertaste? Because I am human and cannot imagine that even under the worst circumstances would I ever have partaken in the dehumanizing enslavement of an entire people who had hearts that beat in their chests as surely as my own does? Then I think on Frederick Douglass and his mistress who he speaks of with such affection and hope, until she too succumbs to the typical fury of a slave owner. How would I have been any different than she? What do I have that she does not and how dare I assume that my skin is thicker than hers or my ego less valuable to me and therefore any less manipulate able? I think I am kidding myself from my comfortable place on the historical American linear time line. I want to believe with fierce conviction that My Northern roots would have dictated an abolitionist spirit, but I say that here in 2011, having been not even a witness to school segregation to Jim Crow. I know nothing of what I would have been for I know only of what I am. You gotta go there to know there and this narrative is as close as I ever want to come to such horror. I thought only about this unique and distinct narrative as my daughter swam up to me and kissed my face that was twisted in discomfort, even the kiss of my freckle puss did little to lighten the burden of the sickened mood that had me in its grip. I turned myself over to a float and looked up into the sky that was darkening with clouds and I imagined it is the same sky that Frederick Douglass would have looked at, recognizing as surely as I was, a brewing storm was approaching. I felt close to him, closer to his words imagining him back a hundred plus years under a similar June sky. I imagined that he could hear my thoughts amidst the rumbling thunder clouds and that he felt my discomfort in knowing his suffering words had reached straight into my own stomach and seized it. My soul hurt for him and through his story knew the raw desperation that had once tumbled unrelentingly through his, even though I plainly acknowledge I know nothing that comes even slightly close by comparison. I felt guilty that my day was plagued by this, felt that more days of my life should be plagued by thoughts such as these, before I would ever dare cry foul at my life or the fates that befall me ever again.
I know of pain, I know of a very distinct female pain that comes with being born a woman. I know nothing, not one single shred of what it feels like to be a slave woman and be shredded literally by a hide lashed on my back for nothing more or less than because the will, will be done….Be done and dismantled.
I hear the words in slave narratives in my ears long after my eyes have left the page – I hear cries and screaming, begging and prayers to a God that did not answer nearly enough pleas. I imagine that if it were me, I would have like Douglass, stood my ground to not be beaten or have died in the fight to prove my humanity. I fear I am misleading myself to ever assume courage such as his. In all honesty I would have quickly lost hope and killed my children and myself rather than face a life of such indignity.
I thank God in this moment that Frederick Douglass was not hopeless enough to ever leave his mission unattended.
I keep pausing as I type to put my face in my hands and breathe, the exhales are labored in shame and disgust and a nagging desire to return to the pool where I can float in my tears and be under a Frederick Douglass sky for just a little while more.
I know I completely said fuck it to any format here – this is a free verse off the coat tails of a dignified free man –

Carpe Diet

Good Morning Blog readers!
The most amazing and I mean amazing thing has happened to me - get ready to think I am really old....
The last three nights, at ten o'clock on the dot I am suddenly very tired and ready - right then and there - to go to sleep.
Last night Emma was up too late herself and reading Walter the Farting Dog to me, I literally felt I had to rush her through it for fear I could not keep my eyes open. THIS IS SO COOL. You are thinking WOW Granny, really?
I know you are, don't lie....
Here is the thing, I have been a night owl my entire life. And when I say entire, I mean entire. I love the late night peace and quiet - long after everyone of my noise makers are fast asleep in bed, my brain comes alive and creativity courses through my veins - I get super charged in the witching hour. Sucky thing about keeping Witches hours is that the spawn of Satan must rise at six AM and get their tushies on the bus for seven, oh and wait yeah, I have early morning college classes too don't I ? This annoying stuff that forces to me lead a regular life is almost impossible to get through with like four hours of sleep - and plus, my wrinkles need more rest than that - surely they do.
So, my life as a Mother for the last twenty one years has been exhasuting to say the least due to intense and constant sleep deprivation....You know what has changed???
I think it is this diet...I think it is the no gluten and dairy that has me operating as a normal functioning human being - I wake up energized, Carpe Diem, ready to delve right into life - no yawning, no aches, no grogginess - I eat small meals all day and then at ten o'clock my brain says enough is enough and sleep now.
I AM A REAL HUMAN!!! Why do I feel like Pinocchio after typing that?
For those of you who do not suffer from night owl syndrome or sleep dep will have no idea why I am so excited to have fallen asleep at ten o'clock three days in a row - for those of you who live like me....Come over from the dark side - it's pretty over here, the early morning light has so much to offer....
This is only one of the many great side effects of this diet, which by the way I am on day 13 of - I said I would try it for thirty, but I have a strong suspicion this is gonna stick - why would I ever give up feeling so good? (oh boy that is a loaded question?)
But really though, I feel that good...
I love cheese and going into Christians Pizza to constantly fill my water cup is a little painful - it smells so damn good in there - BUT - I feel so much lighter (not weight-wise) in my body, my movements, my joints - everything feels more fluid and easy and I have boundless energy that pizza be damned I don't want you. And for all my bitching about work yesterday, I had a blast and resembled the Tazmanian Devil, swirling about, dressing woman after woman making my boss some serious mula. It felt effortless - imagine what my classes will be like in the fall if I continue...oh my so much easier.
The great thing about being truly conscientious about my food choices is that water is now my constant companion - I must drink three gallons a day - my cells are super hydrated and this is so great. I haven't had anything to drink other than water and my morning coffee in thirteen days...NO DIET PEPSI and I don't even miss it :)
Last night after work I made a quick trip to Marshalls, you who are my facebook friends and read my status last night already know how that went....Oh my - I was hovering above the toilet to pee and lost my balance and fell directly on to the heinous toilet seat...I was horrified beyond words and considered straddling the sink to wash my parts until I saw that it was as questionable as the toilet - I have obsessed about the diseases I have contracted all night and fully expect a positive pregnancy test as a result of my mishap. I know you are thinking really, in the ladies room? I swear to you unspeakable sexual acts have occurred in that room I just know it - and I just puked in my mouth a little at the thought.
Okay well enough about my herpes - I went to Marshalls to get a bathing suit because really I have about 800 so why do I need one more? - well...I need an athletic suit because I have taken to doing laps with my babies. The joint pain that I am suffering and the inflammatory crap associated with my thyroid problems are so much easier to bear in water - I miss the gym, but I am afraid of the pain and so I have taken to swimming, like real swimming, not the pretty kind where you look all mermaid like and silky smooth with a golden hair trail behind you. Nope this is the swim cap type - the strapped in athletic suit, the goggles and all, and me, silly old me, trying not to look like an idiot. I am so sure that I do and laugh if you must - I would laugh at me too. I SUCK at real swimming so bad. I am stupidly afraid of the whole stroke and side breath thing - I cannot explain to you why either, I just am....But I am determined to use this boundless energy from my no gluten no dairy diet/lifestyle to do as many constructive things as I can fit in. I had a great time doing laps with my kiddos three days last week - good family time and loads of fun. By the end of the summer I fully expect to rival Michael Phelps and I am sure the Olympic scouts are going to want to recruit me - When I win the gold I will thank my boss Joan who has wanted me to do this diet/lifestyle for years. Okay... that is never going to happen, but I WILL swim on my days off and ease my joints and move this body to keep it somewhat fit.
I have accepted that I will never be thin. I don't want to be thin - I want to be me. Me is not thin - me with my 36Dcup and my 36inch hips - I am not meant to be a skinny girl - I really just want to be a healthy version of my voluptuous, curvy self - this diet and this sleep pattern are all working in my favor for my current health goals. I feel good in my own skin right now despite it's sagging, dimpling and wrinkling - I feel really, really good :)
When I finally get to my appointment for the endocrinologist at the end of this month, I may even refuse meds...The last time I took synthroid I blacked out on the floor of my bathroom while giving Brian a bath - granted that was eighteen years ago, but still - I blacked out and hit my head on the sink as I fell and my baby was in the damn bath tub - Thank God my neighbor found me.
I am all set with drugs unless they are baked into brownies :) Relax people....
Maybe all I really need is a better diet and more sleep and a lot more waking hours put to good use....I think maybe that is my ticket - What we Americans put in our mouths is toxic f'ing waste - like seriously it is. Now that I have stripped myself clean of these toxins, I am even more sure than I was before, that American food is what is causing so many American illnesses and perpetuating a super sized cycle of convenient obesity. And like I have said before, I do not judge weight if it is healthy - but I question how Americans who eat what we do, can possibly be healthy weight? We think wheat thins are healthy - they are not.
I went to whole foods last night following the immaculate toilet conception and I wandered around that new store like I was visiting the land of OZ - I was amazed at the beauty of the produce - organic is so pretty....And now I will have a really hard time buying my produce at FOOD LION. Whole Foods also has these amazing little signs marking every item that is gluten free - made my life so easy..... I wish we had one out here at the lake :(
Ugh but we don't - just overpriced FOOD LION and breaking the back of American Made, WALLY WORLD.
ugh sighhhhh.
Well peeps my tummy is growling signifying my switch to water and breakfast - what shall I have this AM? Chex and Almond milk or a hard boiled egg and chicken apple breakfast sausage - mmmmmmm so good either way I go. Today is homework poolside for me and naturally some laps :)
I hope you all have a blessed Sunday - much love xo

tick tock - SCORE

Good Friday Morning to you all.
I have two things on my mind, one - GAME FIVE OF THE STANLEY CUP PLAYOFFS and two, I don't wannnnnnaaaa go to work today.
I was so comfortable in my bed dreaming my weird dreams, why oh why alarm clock must you speak to me of realities I am trying to deny?
And so here I am awake with my cup of coffee, stealing away precious moments of my own before they become the time clock's. Am I the only one that thing work should be banned? I mean really....Work? Life is supposed to be about playing. Wait, maybe I am still asleep...
Sigh. It's not that I don't love my job, I do, I mean for the love of God I have been there fourteen years - it's just that I hate the concept of being responsible.
I don't really, but I kinda do.
That is why I need to write a best selling novel and write from home and never ever have to depart from the freedom of a day that is calling me to play....
Beyond writing a book, I would love to have a column - much like what I do here but have enough people reading it that I may actually get paid to rant and muse about this phenom I call life.
I just have so much to say about everything...I wonder why I am made this way? A deep thinker, an expressive communicator? I wonder about it a lot - what is my purpose for having this extremely wide open mind and mouth?
I know that when I sit down to write is usually to ease the burden of an overflowing mind - sometimes if I don't get out what is in my head I feel doomed to erupt - like yesterday and my Mommy dearest rant - write or sit at the kitchen table in silence and bawl my eyes out for lack of anything else to do to ease the stress. I choose writing - I hope you all find my evil rants funny and don't think less of me for saying aloud what a lot of Mother's think silently...And of course I would never let my kids dehydrate although it would serve as a powerful lesson, but no - Gatorade I will pack, a good Mommy less wire coat hangers I will be...
Writing for me is like therapy. When I put my thoughts down on the screen before me and I read them back to myself, I always have a sense of clarity as an end result. I start not having the foggiest idea what I will say and always end, with some sort of moral to my story. Sometimes, hell most times I don't know what the moral is myself until I read about it.
Kinda makes me laugh the way the words just tumble out of me uncontrollably and I literally have little idea of any kind of direction or purpose.
So cool to be a "writer". I guess that's what I am now, a writer who cheats on her dream by having a retail position that kinda sorta pays the bills.
The answer is my book and of this I am sure - just not exactly sure how I can get through that process as my moods come and go with the wind. How will I ever start and finish an entire book? Oh my, it is daunting to even consider....
I am also a poet - I have considered writing a massive amount of poetry to submit to a publisher - I think my poets voice is a strong one - I just write my poetry for me, I am a little wary about releasing them to the world. You guys would know all my secrets then....I would be super duper exposed.
But wouldn't it be nice to do what you love, what you really love - your true passion and have financial success? Ahhhh if only.
I remember that Oprah Winfrey once said, find your true passion and that is the key.
This here, words and words and more words - this is my love of all loves. This is where I feel most alive, most free and most safe.
Now to make the dolla bills yo.
I literally have no idea what I just said FYI -
It is a startlingly beautiful morning and I hear the clock ticking furiously in my head reminding me that I have to get ready for WORK, my not real passion - ugh.
I want to sit here all day instead of deal with women who think they are fat and ugly. Not sure I can muster up the therapist today - not sure the fashion Diva will rise to assuredly outfit these ill of confidence women. I wanna watch the birds in my front yard poke their beaks in and out of the ground searching for their worms instead. That and lay on the pool deck and think....
I guess the plus side of my work day is that I am out at seven o'clock which means I will be home and sitting on my ass with my feet up at opening face off time - I will get to see GAME 5, thank you Jesus. (or Allah, Buddha etc. etc)
These last two games have been some of the most intense hockey I have ever been privy to witness in my long hockey loving life. Man those Canucks are playing dirty tho - Shit there has been a lot of nastiness directed at our team - biting, bad hits, fights. I think it speaks volumes to how threatened they feel. I want the Bruins to get the cup so badly that it hurts my gut whenever I think about it. I want this more than I wanted the World Series for the Sox, more than any super bowl win - I want the cup in my hometown. I want to see it happen in my lifetime for the love of God. And don't I just wish that I were home for this? Don't I wish I were among my people in the midst of the all that New England pride? Yes, yes I do - Something about watching the Garden from Virginia feels weird and wrong. You can take the girl outta Boston, but NEVER get the Boston outta that girl. That's me, a loud and proud Bostonian.
Please, please let the fire from Horton's injury stay ignited under those boys asses, keep that fury in Vancouver and bring it home for the win In Boston - I think Bobby Orr should go to every game and begin it by waving the Horton flag - I think that is all the motivation the B's need to kick ass, take names and make goals.
Wouldn't it just be something for them to get the Stanley Cup? Yes, yes it would....I am praying with all my hockey lovin heart that this is a fairy tale ending for them and for all of us who love them so.
And so, the clock beckons from the other room - I must go although the blinking cursor prompts me to write more. Til Seven I am property of the boutique - then after, I am a hometown fan hoping she gets to blog tomorrow about a game 5 win tonight.
I hope that you all have a blessed work day - UGH... And for those of you who are working your passion from home - I am green with envy.
LET'S GO BRUINS LET'S GO!!!!!

Mommy Dearest

Wow I am in a bad, no wait, TERRIBLE no wait, NASTY mood.
I am going to make my typical disclaimer - I love my kids, of course I love my kids...Right now however I could go to the moon and still not be far away enough from them. HOLY COW what a day I have had.
Nothing major happened really - it has all been business as usual.

I think parenthood is a lot like a menstrual cycle...How so you may be thinking, scratching your chin, going huh, like a period? Um yeah, you read me right and here is how I mean. For women our menses cycle is a process that begins each month with the relief of the misery of a period - the relief is that the pre-menstrual bloating and mood swings - the built up tension both physically and emotionally, finally washes away. Days before your period you may feel like killing someone for no apparent reason, have horrible homicidal thoughts, cry at the drop of a hat or at the stupidest sappiest McDonald's commercial ever made. It blows hard core when normal every day shit that is no more extreme or tedious than any other day, eats at you like a festering infection.
That is where I make the Motherhood correlation - Motherhood is on a cycle too. I have reached my Pre-breaking point with my kids this month and I am praying for a reprieve from the madness before I lock myself in my closet and start talking to my shoes.
They are driving me nuts - and like I said - nothing major today, nothing out of the usual, nothing extraordinary - I have just had it, plain and simple.
It is the constant bickering, the constant antagonizing, the constant "MUM MATTHEW SAID I'M A BUTT HEAD" (insert major girl whine) - and then the retort "NO SHE CALLED ME A BUTT FIRST" (insert total boy denial and aloofness tone)- grrrr
It is the incessant food consumption and constant food waste that makes me really want to starve my kids just for a day so they know how the kids in Africa feel, no you are NOT STARVING and what do you mean you're not eating that perfectly good sandwich I made because the cheese is white and not yellow? OMG shoot me now, pleaseeee.
Whose socks are these and wait there's a tech dech underfoot, can't wait to break my back when I slip on it and fall, and this is not my wet towel, and your books do not belong scattered across my bathroom floor directly in front of the toilet and no your bed is not made so go do it.....NOW.
I am so sick and tired of hearing my own damn voice repeat the same instructions day in and day out. Like beyond sick of my own friggen voice, forget about the coinciding chores that I literally want to stop doing - just drop the laundry in the center of the living room and walk out the front door to my house without a word.
The silent brush my shoulder off...
sigh.
I have repeated the same steps at least 1000 times today - told Matt to clean his dishes off the table 12 times to be exact - I counted for a distraction from the brewing rage. Made my Mother cycle into a little game - let's see how many times he will walk by that wet bathing suit he THREW ON THE KITCHEN FLOOR!!!
I love kids, I do, but I loathe their self centeredness, detest their ability to tune out the bedroom you can't walk through, cannot stand their sibling rivalry which equals mutual emotional torture.
I am over it and unfortunately it is far from over. I have a good solid eleven years of this still ahead of me and by then I will be a Grandmother and start all over again with my grandbabies.
I imagine Grandmotherhood will amount to parental menopause - I will be vacant of any more responsibility beyond spoiling. Ha, let your parents cope with your slobby habits.
There is light at the end of the tunnel, there is future torture in store for my own offspring in the form of thiers...Insert maniacal laughter here.
I think the next time I go to the pool, I will pack my lunch and my gatorade and tell the kids, you're on your own today. Not one bit of help or guidance from me. Hmmmmm bet that'd turn out real well for the numbskulls who take every single chore involved with their survival for granted!
So if one of my kids passes out from dehdration on the pool deck,
you'll know why.....And no Matthew you cannot have a butterfinger from the snack bar, money doesn't grow on trees you know and what is wrong with the fifty dollar food lion trip I packed the cooler for the love of God?
Rant over :)

Competitive Nature ....Nature VS. Nurture?

Good Hot Thursday Morning to you all..
Wow what a scorcher yesterday was here in the South East - I think we were at over 100 degrees with the heat index - sure made for an interesting evening at the mock meet...About ten minutes before I left the house I jumped in the shower to wash the salt water out of my hair (our pool is salt) and then threw on a sundress, ran a pic through my mop top and ran out the door for Emma and Matt's first meet of the season. My hair was a dripping mess of curls and never dried the entire evening - you could have mopped the sweat right off me. Last night was like being trapped in a sauna fully clothed with no exit door. It was a rough one to say the least.
But man did my kiddos bring a heat of their own...Those kids were on fire in that pool.
And this is what I was thinking about as I roused from my slumber this morning...Competitive nature and why my children possess it?
Emma is a born competitor, especially when it comes to swimming. She has rocked it so hard from the very first time she got up on a block and got her stream line pose on. Prior to the climb on the block she has always gnawed on her goggle strap for nerve control. I have watched her and wondered, is she nervous? Is she uncomfortable? Is this too much pressure for her? Thing is, while she sits on the benches in clerk waiting for her race - no matter what - I go to her and kiss her on the pucker, tell her she is awesome, go get em kiddo - give it your best and naturally, I love you....She never looks at me with an Emma Claire 'I don't wanna do this Mum' expression, never cries, never doesn't want to swim - and yet she chews her goggle strap in the moments before as though is she doesn't chew she may explode. I have always chalked it up to control - she is controlling her environment in the moments before the race to exercise what she can in fact control until she hits that water and tries her hardest to dominate. Which, she usually does.... Last year she left most of the other swimmers in the dust, hit the wall at least a quarter length ahead of the pool - she was amazing and even I, who believes she is capable of ANYTHING, was stupefied at her ability and even beyond the wins, her grace. She never boasts, never brags, she always accepts her ribbon gracefully and is supportive of her team mates. She is invested, but not to the point of conceit or bragging. I love her silent pride, it is one of the things I appreciate most about her....
And so I ponder? Where in the hell does she get this? Is it from me or was she born with it, a part of my DNA passed down to her - nature and not nurture. Because, although I yell like a mad woman from the side of the pool and push her to push her hardest, it is not for the win at all, it is so that she hears her Mother, her best friend, her biggest fan, cheering in the crowd - I want my voice to stand out to her as she pulls up to take a breath - I want her to know that I believe in her - that I always will.
And yet, she is a scrapper just like her Momma, I mean just like me.
I can't answer the nature vs. nurture for myself when it comes to me, did my Mom raise me to be the way I am? I certainly FEEL like it is my nature - the fighters spirit is inside me and I have little choice but to regard it as such, for even in times when I want to give up - my gumption always wins out and the defeater in me loses to the winner. I am just that way, and even more so if you tell me that I CANNOT do something. Tell me I can't, tell me I won't, and oh boy you better look out because I will show you, watch me now.
BUT - I was not always this way....There was a time when the defeatist in me was so much more powerful that any other facet to my personality - so much stronger than any other outer force- I was doomed to fail and so why even bother trying...
And this brings me to my Matteo.
Last year he flat out refused to do swim team - "it's stupid - I hate it - it's boring" and I was ready to kill him for his quitters will. He was un-moveable and YET, was in the stupid pool diving like a champion and swimming like a fish and all us adults sat back scratching our heads going HUH? What the hell is his issue???
Well his issue was confidence and his competitive nature. He was afraid to lose more than he was sure he would win and for Matthew, not winning is not okay.
HHHHmmmm again I ask, is this from me? Because although I did not start this way like my Emma with effortless confidence, I have sure arrived at it now as a grown woman. And I will admit it, I do not like to lose. Yes I can be gracious and yes I will always support my opponent, but I DISLIKE coming up short immensely. Take for instance the essay competition this year - I ran in to Jessica (professor) in the hallway as she was handing out info about the competition - she asked "Are you going to submit again this year?" and my reply "Oh yes, but this year I am going to win" and.... I did. Gumption with a Goal.
So with Emma, I worry little about her confidence and the possibility of
loss, she will climb out the pool eat a ring pop and get psyched up for the next race - she never gets pissed about hitting the wall second.
But Matt he is a different story....And last night he won first - first meet of his first season and he hit that wall a long length ahead of the other swimmers. I had one observation - he would have been even faster if he had not wrenched his neck around constantly assessing where his competitors were in regards to him....Oh Matt just swim doll baby - but I don't know if he can do it the way his sister does and I don't know if an all out melt down will occur when he loses - which he inevitably will...Will he throw his cap down and say "I'm done, I hate this!!!" or has he matured enough in the last year to be able to fall off and get right back on that horse without a self hating monologue?
Jesus I hope so.
I handle them so differently, as they are completely different children and yet, both so clearly cut from my cloth. Her, I just whatev's, I love you yadayada - Matteo I do the "I am so proud that you did it, so proud of your effort, so happy to see you in the game" and hope that my pride is enough to sustain him when he doesn't smash in to the wall the winner....
It is so crazy trying to figure out the right methodology in raising healthy self confident kids. I think my first two are still battling this issue well into their teenage and young adult years. Matthew is very much like Brian was and so maybe Brian in his wisdom should mentor him more - he was there yelling right beside me and was the first one to hug his little brother out of the pool :)
I want my kids to be competitive because the world is cut throat, more now than ever. I want them to have a gumption reserve that they can call on in times of need. I want them to believe they are CAPABLE of ANYTHING and I want them to learn most of all that the only thing that stands in the way of their successes is ultimately themselves - they are powerful.
I hope that Emma's confidence comes from seeing a confident Mother who she admires. I hope watching my nose to the books and the President's List letters that come in the mail are teaching her a hard work ethic - I hope that for Matthew it does the same, but that he doesn't JUST see the WIN, he sees the work involved and realizes it is the confidence IN my work that matters to me more than the grade.
Ahhhhh sigh, parenthood is hard. It is some kind of difficult to look at these little humans and know that what they will become is largely in my hands because I will either succeed in giving them the goods or fail...
I want my kids to have all the confidence and all the Maternal support that I did not. I want them to develop into well rounded humans that will pass on my determination and grace.
Because I have figured out that really, this shit is all that matters in life - everything material is inconsequential - it is what you pass on to your kids that matters.
Deep down in my gut I know I am a survivor who has evolved into a thriver - just gotta figure out how to get my kids there without them having to wage war on themselves the way I did.
This aspect is surely nurture.
Regardless of anything - by way of good example or bad, my Mom passed on to me the desire to never have my kids feel unsupported, abandoned or to live with ultimatums of my doing. I am here for these whack jobs come rain or come shine - no matter what.
And even when they fall flat on their faces - I will be here dusting them off, kissing boo boo's and telling them to get their asses back out there but quick.
I hope it all works out. I hope they get their confidence on - in the pool and especially out.
Love me some Matt and Em's - love these knuckle heads with all my heart - bursting with pride this morning and have my over thinking contemplative head in the game right along with them.
Have a great day xo