I sat on my oversized couch, curled up with my daughter, looking at old family photos. Giggling at the clothes and the funny things being done, when she asked about my firefighting days. Memories flooded in. Then questions about truck driving. It hit me like a load of bricks. How many different circles we run in. I have lived in many places but it our jobs and our likes that draws us into these circles. There are so many circles that I will never be in, like famous people, or welders, or astronauts. Now, with the internet, the circles get broader and we start to dipping our toes into different ponds. Tweeting with famous people or researching the new possibilities of space travel but we still stick to the circles we love, family and friends.I love to learn new things and have been "hooked" on the internet since 1996 when I found money in a parking lot (after waiting the allotted 30 day claim period). But that will be another story.
I paid for a full year and soon I was checking out games and answering calls from all the friends who were stumped on trivia questions. The internet has been my link to the outside world. I had 4 young children and lived far out in the country so friends hardly stopped by and loading 4 kids in the car was a monumental task. After much research, I developed plans for a coffee shop .A place where one could swing by and grab a packed homemade lunch while grabbing your coffee. Then at night it would turn into a hangout place for teens. With board game nights and having special guests stopping by to help teens find guidance and confidence, I was so excited. An adventure for me, to help others and show my kids that it takes a society to raise kids not just a mom and/or dad. Because of living in the country, teens were bored, and soon trouble followed. I had my proposal all ready to show my husband, full of pride and independence. It took only one sentence to sink my heart. Do you want your children to feel as abandoned as you did? Gone....my dream balloon went fizzing through the air and out of sight. I still tear up over this.
So I vowed that no one would ever stop me again!!! I soon found that I could make it in many worlds. Single mother of 4, full time job managing the family business, firefighting, emt, soccer mom, and even treasurer of a bowling league, handling all at once. I wanted my children to see that if you want it bad enough, you can do it. Children will follow your example.
Now I sit on the edge of another world, a place that asks me to give up everything I know and familiar with. My heart races in excitement at the thought of moving but then that voice that crops up way back in my head saying ... abandoning again? But I have decided to send the ninjas in my head to kick the crap out of that voice!!!!
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Thursday, May 9, 2013
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Breathe
I started writing my book....
This is a novel of normality...Of the mondaine, the ordinary.
What makes me; me. But it also makes you extraodinary.
Chapter One
Breathe: to draw air into and expel it from the lungs : respire;broadly : to take in oxygen and give
out carbon dioxide through natural processes
Breathing is so underrated . I say this because of the moments in life that seem to make that just stop ... Effortless and profound. Now that does not mean that good things are "about to happening" But even in the most horrible moments, your breathe is taken away. It is a beginning to a new path. A choice. Where to go from here? Where your true colors show?
Funny thing is I am looking down, after dying my daughters hair... My hands are stained . I work at a job where appearance is very important. Judged right away. My hands are stained dark brown... Yet all I think is ... I am so glad and honored that my teenaged daughter trusted me enough that I could do it... And that I actually got to spend time with her, just her and me. It is these simple moments that make me so proud... Not the goals or the expensive prom dress... But the fact that she trusts me with her looks and believes in me too.
I don't know where this life is taking me but the dusty path behind has quite a few tales I would like to share.
This is a novel of normality...Of the mondaine, the ordinary.
What makes me; me. But it also makes you extraodinary.
Chapter One
Breathe: to draw air into and expel it from the lungs : respire;broadly : to take in oxygen and give
out carbon dioxide through natural processes
Breathing is so underrated . I say this because of the moments in life that seem to make that just stop ... Effortless and profound. Now that does not mean that good things are "about to happening" But even in the most horrible moments, your breathe is taken away. It is a beginning to a new path. A choice. Where to go from here? Where your true colors show?
Funny thing is I am looking down, after dying my daughters hair... My hands are stained . I work at a job where appearance is very important. Judged right away. My hands are stained dark brown... Yet all I think is ... I am so glad and honored that my teenaged daughter trusted me enough that I could do it... And that I actually got to spend time with her, just her and me. It is these simple moments that make me so proud... Not the goals or the expensive prom dress... But the fact that she trusts me with her looks and believes in me too.
I don't know where this life is taking me but the dusty path behind has quite a few tales I would like to share.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Be More
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Heart stopping moment
I have had my fair share of heart stopping moments. Car accidents, giving birth and taking my child to the hospital. The routine of a day is changed by a simple phone call. I sat listening but not truly understanding. I have noticed the arch of her back and even asked about it but was told all was fine. Then here I sit replaying the converation over and over. The best chance was to visit the Shriners hospital . My family surrounded my daughter like a herd of elephants arround the young when attacked. The color white (on walls) remind me of that day. Waiting with paperwork, waiting and trying to distract, waiting and feeling frustrated, waiting. The doctors small talk began and then the examination of her back. He asked me to call the family in. Tears swelled in my eyes, holding my breath. He sat everyone down. All eyes on him. He said "it is days like these that I love my job, I get to tell you that she is ... Fine!" We all had tears of joy while embracing each other, including the doctor. What a glorious day!
Monday, September 3, 2012
the Door Bell game
Saturday, September 1, 2012
My start on this big ball
I started this blog to let out all these random thoughts that clog my mind.
And in turn letting them out ,show just one person that they are not alone in this crazy fast paced world.
I was that kid who the others would say "there goes that girl that talks to herself and does the craziest stuff."
I grew up in a military atmosphere that was intertwined with hippie thoughts. Ya, already a messed up start... giggle.
I was born in Indianapolis where my birth father was stationed till we got shipped to California then he was to be deployed to Vietnam. I was born in a military hospital, enough said. Then as soon as we could, we were heading for the coast. I believe that first flight sealed my love of flying, just by being surrounded by all forms of life, smoking, drinking and being social. But that is how flights were oh so long ago, talking to others from around the world, this was our social internet.
Landing in LA, the salty,smoggy air infused with my DNA. From that day forward, I knew that I must be near water and yes, I did have the nickname "fish". I always wanted to be in the water and my mother being a avid sunbather worked to my advantage. After things that the government needed to clear up (paperwork and such), we then packed again and moved to Hawaii. Island life gave me the sense of being alone is okay, to separate from the whole and be okay. I have images of majestic scenes and strict regiments. Time was also important to my father, but my mother would say " shhh, no worries." This was the beginning of the roller coaster ride I called life. The absolute beauty of the island and seeing the water daily was heaven , yet the yelling and fighting surrounding me made me hide inside.
While my father was overseas, things went in such a different way. We moved back to California. From hearing about the famous people my mother had seen while assisting the dentist at her job to the having me chase after Elton John in the grocery store parking lot, life was just us two. Soaking up rays and building sandcastles seemed like all we did (or that i wanted to remember).
His plane arrived and there we were waiting for him in our hippy clothes and his mouth fell open. I was torn in my love of my father and what he thought was right and that of my mothers free thinking. I was truly a product of the 70s.
My father grew up believing that the man make all decisions and my mother grew up in a household that had only one parent (my grandfather died when she was young). This was the spark that ignited the fire regarding roles of men and women. In retrospect, this relationship was doomed.
The next journey, my mother and I moved to her birth place; Erie, Pa. (to be continued...)
And in turn letting them out ,show just one person that they are not alone in this crazy fast paced world.
I was that kid who the others would say "there goes that girl that talks to herself and does the craziest stuff."
I grew up in a military atmosphere that was intertwined with hippie thoughts. Ya, already a messed up start... giggle.
I was born in Indianapolis where my birth father was stationed till we got shipped to California then he was to be deployed to Vietnam. I was born in a military hospital, enough said. Then as soon as we could, we were heading for the coast. I believe that first flight sealed my love of flying, just by being surrounded by all forms of life, smoking, drinking and being social. But that is how flights were oh so long ago, talking to others from around the world, this was our social internet.
Landing in LA, the salty,smoggy air infused with my DNA. From that day forward, I knew that I must be near water and yes, I did have the nickname "fish". I always wanted to be in the water and my mother being a avid sunbather worked to my advantage. After things that the government needed to clear up (paperwork and such), we then packed again and moved to Hawaii. Island life gave me the sense of being alone is okay, to separate from the whole and be okay. I have images of majestic scenes and strict regiments. Time was also important to my father, but my mother would say " shhh, no worries." This was the beginning of the roller coaster ride I called life. The absolute beauty of the island and seeing the water daily was heaven , yet the yelling and fighting surrounding me made me hide inside.
While my father was overseas, things went in such a different way. We moved back to California. From hearing about the famous people my mother had seen while assisting the dentist at her job to the having me chase after Elton John in the grocery store parking lot, life was just us two. Soaking up rays and building sandcastles seemed like all we did (or that i wanted to remember).
His plane arrived and there we were waiting for him in our hippy clothes and his mouth fell open. I was torn in my love of my father and what he thought was right and that of my mothers free thinking. I was truly a product of the 70s.
My father grew up believing that the man make all decisions and my mother grew up in a household that had only one parent (my grandfather died when she was young). This was the spark that ignited the fire regarding roles of men and women. In retrospect, this relationship was doomed.
The next journey, my mother and I moved to her birth place; Erie, Pa. (to be continued...)
Using our “skills” (part 2 of Atari rules)
This
motley crew would take our earnings to the next adventure... off to the corner
store. It was pre or post dinnertime that our rule in the streets was in full
effect. While parents busy cooking and watching the news… off we went. Although the store was only 4 blocks away,
the journey was long and adventurous. It would take us a half an hour just to
get one block; stopping to chat with other friends walking by, or a neighbor
who would ask for help, or we had to pass the scary lady’s house hoping she
would not be out so we could sneak through her yard. With James Bond like
movements (that is what we thought… although we looked more like we were having
seizures by flopping all over the ground) were part of our adventure. We scaled
garden walls; we crawled on our knees to get past windows; heck we even found
treats for the dogs who so wanted to give us away. Then “coolly” walked past
the cute guys house... Hoping to catch a glimpse of him yet trying to look like
we really didn't care. At last, the store’s bells would ring on the door. We
made it. Soon numbers and mathematical equations there tossed around like we
were solving the debit crisis. Finding “the most for our money” and bargaining
were then next skills to surface. Content with our choices, our purchases were
bagged and bells rang again. We faked smoked (those terrible candy cigs) and
ate candy that did rot some of our teeth. But we gained independence,
knowledge, and community in every adventure. I loved my childhood and feel
lucky that I grew up when I did.
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