3 years ago
Saturday, February 27, 2010
No Calories, No Not One
Friday, February 26, 2010
Stones
I met a man, well boy really, years ago. He was tall, quite thin (I wanted to take him home and feed him though I knew his mother did a great job with that), had red hair, a face full of freckles, and a ready smile. When we first met, he was nice. Polite and friendly. He opened doors, said please and thank you, and even asked if he could carry my books for me a few times (I turned him down flat). Well, this boy and I became friends. Not best friends, just the type of friend that you'd go with a group to see a movie with and then laugh over stupid jokes later at DQ. Then there was a time when he stopped talking to me. I felt the world fall apart around me. I was angry and hurt for weeks. But then, I realised, he was just a friend and I was a big girl. So I went on my merry way, laughing and being my normal self. I even started dating a little by then. I found out quickly that the world of dating had no place in it for me. I was not ready for that. I was still a child, growing, not quite ready for that step. So time slipped by, almost unnoticed. The flowers bloomed and died, and the rains had come again. Then I saw him again. It felt like it had been only moments since the last goodbye. As if he had just walked around the block. And there he was, back. My good friend. We went to a dance with a group of friends, both of us with other dates. They way that he looked at me that night made me want to melt. I think that it was when I finally realised that this man was going to be a part of my life. A big part, whether I liked it or not. It took me quite a while to grow up enough to accept that. And even longer for me to say yes to him. He was patient, kind, and generous. Moonlight walks in the park, not holding hands or kissing, just walking and talking, being friends. By then he was my best friend, my confidante. When things went wrong in other areas of my life, he is the one that I turned to. And he cared. We spent countless hours on the phone. He was still patient. He moved to a different town and would wake me in the morning with a phone call. Even miles apart, the concern, and something else I couldn't name, was there. Then I was confronted with a choice. The hardest choice I had ever made in my life. I had to choose between this wonderful man and another wonderful man. Yes, I had two men in my life then (still do). I had to make the choice to give up the man who had loved me for my whole life, or the man that wanted me to be his wife.
That is a choice that I wouldn't wish on anyone. That is a scar on my heart that will probably never completely heal. I made my choice and packed my bags. I left in the middle of the night. I left everything and everyone, didn't even say goodbye. I didn't know where I was going or what reception I would get. Just that my heart was bursting with joy on the one side, and mourning a terrible loss on the other. Time passed and healed the scar a little. My wonderful man and I wed without my father's blessing, but still with happiness. On that wonderful day, I looked into his green eyes and knew that here was the man who I could and would keep forever. And now here we are, living our love. He is my other half, the better half. Without him...I am empty. He just is. And I'm not sure that he knows, but I loved him from the beginning. That very first budding of friendship. He is, was, and always will be my love.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
And His Name Was Jonah
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Secrets to Parenting #4
Monday, February 22, 2010
My Own Gold
Friday, February 19, 2010
Yellow and Blue
It is a beautifully sunny day outside. One that normally would have me dancing and singing and in general making a fool of myself because I love the nice weather. But...not today. I'm a little bummed. Not too long ago I set up an Etsy shop. I posted several items and then watched as the number of people looking went up and up and up. Then I got a letter. Written very nicely, but also bringing home a good point. Right now most people are having a hard time paying bills, let alone buying beautiful hand-crafted and also slightly pricey items on Etsy. So, as the letter read on, I realized that, for the most part, people were not going to be able to afford to purchase my items. Not that they are not worth the price that I was asking (they most definitely are), it's just that I'm selling something that is an "extra." They are not necessary to everyday life (like toilet paper). So...the long and the short of it is that I knocked the prices down a bit so that (hopefully) more people will be able to purchase. Lesson learned: it is only worth what people are willing to pay.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
And You Wonder Why I Like Mochas
It seems that just yesterday all I needed to do was get out of bed and go to work, take care of other people's kids for a few hours and go home. When did life get so dang complicated? Now it is: get up
, get hunny up, get kids up, put dog out, kiss hunny goodbye, get kids dressed (yell at kids 5 times and then they get there 30 min later), have breakfast, make kids eat breakfast, let dog in, finish homework, tie shoes, walk to school...And that is just the first two hours of my day. Sometimes I'll mix it up and do a load of dishes or laundry in there too. And another thing that doesn't really help is that I'm the only morning person. No one else around here likes to be up before 9. It's really really difficult to be the only perpetually happy person without any reciprocation of that emotion. All it is around here is grunts and mumbles and growls. I feel like I live with a bunch of bears perpetually coming off of hibernation, minus the whole eat me for breakfast thing. Ok, I'm done with the pity party. I need to go get the kids moving towards breakfast...
, get hunny up, get kids up, put dog out, kiss hunny goodbye, get kids dressed (yell at kids 5 times and then they get there 30 min later), have breakfast, make kids eat breakfast, let dog in, finish homework, tie shoes, walk to school...And that is just the first two hours of my day. Sometimes I'll mix it up and do a load of dishes or laundry in there too. And another thing that doesn't really help is that I'm the only morning person. No one else around here likes to be up before 9. It's really really difficult to be the only perpetually happy person without any reciprocation of that emotion. All it is around here is grunts and mumbles and growls. I feel like I live with a bunch of bears perpetually coming off of hibernation, minus the whole eat me for breakfast thing. Ok, I'm done with the pity party. I need to go get the kids moving towards breakfast...
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