I'm not trying to say that I'm an advocate of lying, but there are times when I choose not to tell the whole truth. Or maybe what I'm trying to say is that I'm very adept at choosing not to walk the line when I don't want to - I'm a skilled player when it comes to evasion and asking questions to keep the heat off of me and focused on you.
So, I was shocked when I told him the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. It was the raw underbelly of my heart; and my inner-woman was stunned that I had let it roll off my tongue so freely, so vulnerably. Like it was nothing; when it was really everything.
----
I blame it on the fact that we're fire friends. That when everyone else has retreated into their tents for the night, we alone stay at the edge of the campfire for just a few more minutes.
If there's any place not to lie, it seems to me that it's in front of a fire. There's something sacred and beautiful about fire, and even more so when you share the experience of appreciating it with someone.
Several times we've been left alone - and those few minutes stretch into their own space, where standard rules don't seem to apply. We're not really friends, but around the fire late into the night, we're kindred spirits releasing truths into the air, into the space that is ours alone.
----
I blame it on the fact that we walked on the beach together, hand in hand; that we shared a bed and a beautiful meal; that you took my breath away with beauty, art and music, as well as your direct line of questioning that parceled all my heartfelt responses into nothing but a pile of empty, thoughtless excuses.
I was using them to avoid the truth. You knew it. And you led me to it slowly.
It was a dawning, a fiery sunrise within my own heart that you witnessed. It was sacred and beautiful. And there was no space for lies.
----
I blame it on the fact that I've been too busy and too stressed for too long. I've been telling everyone else's story instead of giving my own the care and room for development that it needed.
I blame it on the fact that I've been evading the truth within my own heart.
----
"To be absolutely honest, in two years what I really hope is to have need for a family car. To need enough room for a significant other, a baby and a dog."
----
Such a simple truth to reveal, the fact that I want a family. But it's something I want...so badly...that I haven't wanted to admit it.
It's no surprise that a little girl growing up in a broken family would dream of a house full of boys: one big one for me and a few smaller ones that we made together. And I knew that it would be a house filled with happiness. It was what I wanted.
It is what I want.
----
It rolled off my tongue. This confession.
From one beautiful soul to another, in a shared space where lying wasn't permitted, I spoke aloud a truth that I had barely even whispered in the depths of my heart.
And why not? Because I don't want to hold onto it for fear that it won't happen.
If hold onto it and it doesn't happen, I'm devastated - and then have to deal with it; whereas, if I don't hold onto it, I can pretend that it wasn't ever really that important to me to begin with.
A loose hold means that it's easier to move on, move forward. Disappointment is easier to manage than devastation.
A family: a mom, a dad, a kid, a baby and a dog. A happy, silly, growing family. It seems like such a simple thing to want, but it brings tears to my eyes, and my heart swells like I'm standing at the edge of a cliff and I can't see the ground.
----
I held that dream in my hands recently.
It was handed to me. It took me by surprise. And even though I had reason to doubt, I couldn't resist the call of my heart.
Stupid heart. Stupid call. The dream ended abruptly.
It was like being the last in line dancing to the Piper's song and tripping over a limb into a night-cold brook. Holding my throbbing head in my hands, wondering why I was freezing cold and alone in the dark.
----
Was it possible that instead of a happily-ever-after, I had really just been about to sell my soul to the devil?
----
The heat is on - and there is no evading it this time. I've offered up my heart for evaluation.
It's time for me to face the truth.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Courage from the Heart of Another
Does it count if the courage didn't come from your own heart, but instead was gifted to you by the heart of another?
That's the question of the evening.
---
It almost feels like I didn't fight "the good fight," because I was using a strategy that until recently wasn't my own.
Basically, I borrowed another set of balls to handle my business.
And I'm trying to figure out if it's legit. Does it count? Is it blessed by the gods of good friends who know just how to bolster you up in the midst of a personal battle?
And more importantly, will it stick? Just because I was able to succeed in this one battle, will the winning streak continue on with me to other battles? Or will it realize that it's been lended-out, taken by a less-than-worthy heart; and take a leave of absence just when I need to be my most strong?
---
Lots of questions running though my mind. Lots of trying to be strong and realizing that it's my friends who are making me be strong. On my own, I am a lily-livered weakling.
Or is that what I've been led to believe; and instead the truth is that my friends are trying to jump-start the lioness they know is within?
That's the question of the evening.
---
It almost feels like I didn't fight "the good fight," because I was using a strategy that until recently wasn't my own.
Basically, I borrowed another set of balls to handle my business.
And I'm trying to figure out if it's legit. Does it count? Is it blessed by the gods of good friends who know just how to bolster you up in the midst of a personal battle?
And more importantly, will it stick? Just because I was able to succeed in this one battle, will the winning streak continue on with me to other battles? Or will it realize that it's been lended-out, taken by a less-than-worthy heart; and take a leave of absence just when I need to be my most strong?
---
Lots of questions running though my mind. Lots of trying to be strong and realizing that it's my friends who are making me be strong. On my own, I am a lily-livered weakling.
Or is that what I've been led to believe; and instead the truth is that my friends are trying to jump-start the lioness they know is within?
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Kissing my Palm
The thing is, he saw you do it first.
My dear, impressionable 7 year old son, who is living with moderate autism, who thinks so highly of you...even if you don't acknowledge it, or appreciate it.
You thought he wasn't paying attention - engrossed in his iDevice, watching gaming videos - when you tenderly lifted my hand to your lips, palm first so that you could kiss the consequence of my clumsiness. But he saw you; and he absorbed your tender gesture.
I couldn't believe it. You're my ex-boyfriend. You aren't suppose to be so loving. It's like we're still living in a mixed up land, where we aren't together, but still long to be.
But it seems that love exists in any land...mixed up or not.
And love, no matter how it is defined - or not - is still able to procreate kindness.
The next day, my son and I went to high five each other. And as we smacked hands, I saw his expression change. There was deep concern that furrowed his darling brow. He grabbed my hand, looked at it, looked at me and bent his little head so that he could kiss my boo-boo and make it all better.
Just as he had seen you do it.
With such a marked tenderness.
You don't want to be with me, because you don't want to be with "us," - you don't want to be a father. But you're already affecting him more than you know.
He'll remember this - and he will be a more tender man, a more tender lover, husband - and hopefully - father, because of this moment when you chose to love me.
My dear, impressionable 7 year old son, who is living with moderate autism, who thinks so highly of you...even if you don't acknowledge it, or appreciate it.
You thought he wasn't paying attention - engrossed in his iDevice, watching gaming videos - when you tenderly lifted my hand to your lips, palm first so that you could kiss the consequence of my clumsiness. But he saw you; and he absorbed your tender gesture.
I couldn't believe it. You're my ex-boyfriend. You aren't suppose to be so loving. It's like we're still living in a mixed up land, where we aren't together, but still long to be.
But it seems that love exists in any land...mixed up or not.
And love, no matter how it is defined - or not - is still able to procreate kindness.
The next day, my son and I went to high five each other. And as we smacked hands, I saw his expression change. There was deep concern that furrowed his darling brow. He grabbed my hand, looked at it, looked at me and bent his little head so that he could kiss my boo-boo and make it all better.
Just as he had seen you do it.
With such a marked tenderness.
You don't want to be with me, because you don't want to be with "us," - you don't want to be a father. But you're already affecting him more than you know.
He'll remember this - and he will be a more tender man, a more tender lover, husband - and hopefully - father, because of this moment when you chose to love me.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Under (More) Pressure
In an interesting turn of events, I moved in with my ex-husband at
the beginning of the 2012 year - almost just in time to celebrate our
first full year of being divorced.
My decision to move back into the house that we shared while married was multi-layered - like an onion (a big, fat smelly one). But the 2 main factors were...a. I had no rent money (since I had just recently left my job to start publishing) and b. he never completed the mortgage edit - taking my name off the property - and couldn't move forward with an appraisal since the house was in disrepair.
Our agreement was that I would provide property management (negotiating with the HOA, cleaning, managing service providers, more cleaning, calling in all kinds of favors from friends for home improvement supplies, did I mention the cleaning?!) and in return, I would be able to live at the house for free while I pursued whatever opportunities opened for me through jab's plethora. The agreement would exist until the house was appraised, the refinance paperwork completed and my name removed from the property. And we'd figure out how to deal with the awkward part of living together again a day at a time.
And even though the agreement was cut and dry - real life has a way of creating more hoops to jump through, more pop quizzes than you've studied for, more opportunities to feel like the awkward adolescent standing in front of the class red-cheeked with embarrassment.
To put it nicely, it has been a rich experience - and has hopefully, made me a better and stronger person.
---
But now, I am just ready to move on.
I am happy to report that the agreement is coming to its fulfillment. The house has been cleaned, the HOA placated, my friends and connections thanked and thanked again. The paperwork process was initiated, the appraisal scheduled and final details submitted to the bank for processing.
Things have been moving along. Not near fast enough to please my taste, but at least there has been forward momentum.
This week, though, has been a doozie.
I was informed by one of my closest friends that she and my ex have started a connection that they plan to pursue. And though she doesn't yet want to be called his girlfriend (by god, it's too early for that) they have kissed and she does plan to come over for romantic visits (last night, her car was still in front of the house at 4am). And she really wants our friendship to remain the same...
[Can you blame me for sleeping poorly; for rolling over at some point and checking out the window and at seeing her car, checking my phone for the time? If you want to, that's fine. Live as I have for the last 8 months and maybe you'll start acting a little crazy too.]
My ex topped that tidbit with the fact that the refi appears "dead in the water;" or at least, that's what the Banker told him. He needs me to submit my divorce paperwork, because what he's already submitted didn't fulfill the requirements of the paperwork process. And he needs to find an extra $1,400 to order to complete the process - and isn't sure where that money is going to come from.
Is it any wonder that I may have indulged at the local Martini Bar on Friday night while updating my mom on all the particulars?
To be honest with you, as ready as I am to depart this household, I don't have a place to land yet. My company and my professional engagements have grown - but not quite enough just yet. Those are ends I am desperately trying to match up as quickly as possible...understanding that ultimately the journey is not in my control.
All I can do is act in a way that I can be proud of...so that when this nightmare is over, I'm not haunted by actions that were mean and childish. My record isn't spotless, but I'm doing the best I can to make sure that it stays as clean as possible.
My decision to move back into the house that we shared while married was multi-layered - like an onion (a big, fat smelly one). But the 2 main factors were...a. I had no rent money (since I had just recently left my job to start publishing) and b. he never completed the mortgage edit - taking my name off the property - and couldn't move forward with an appraisal since the house was in disrepair.
Our agreement was that I would provide property management (negotiating with the HOA, cleaning, managing service providers, more cleaning, calling in all kinds of favors from friends for home improvement supplies, did I mention the cleaning?!) and in return, I would be able to live at the house for free while I pursued whatever opportunities opened for me through jab's plethora. The agreement would exist until the house was appraised, the refinance paperwork completed and my name removed from the property. And we'd figure out how to deal with the awkward part of living together again a day at a time.
And even though the agreement was cut and dry - real life has a way of creating more hoops to jump through, more pop quizzes than you've studied for, more opportunities to feel like the awkward adolescent standing in front of the class red-cheeked with embarrassment.
To put it nicely, it has been a rich experience - and has hopefully, made me a better and stronger person.
---
But now, I am just ready to move on.
I am happy to report that the agreement is coming to its fulfillment. The house has been cleaned, the HOA placated, my friends and connections thanked and thanked again. The paperwork process was initiated, the appraisal scheduled and final details submitted to the bank for processing.
Things have been moving along. Not near fast enough to please my taste, but at least there has been forward momentum.
This week, though, has been a doozie.
I was informed by one of my closest friends that she and my ex have started a connection that they plan to pursue. And though she doesn't yet want to be called his girlfriend (by god, it's too early for that) they have kissed and she does plan to come over for romantic visits (last night, her car was still in front of the house at 4am). And she really wants our friendship to remain the same...
[Can you blame me for sleeping poorly; for rolling over at some point and checking out the window and at seeing her car, checking my phone for the time? If you want to, that's fine. Live as I have for the last 8 months and maybe you'll start acting a little crazy too.]
My ex topped that tidbit with the fact that the refi appears "dead in the water;" or at least, that's what the Banker told him. He needs me to submit my divorce paperwork, because what he's already submitted didn't fulfill the requirements of the paperwork process. And he needs to find an extra $1,400 to order to complete the process - and isn't sure where that money is going to come from.
Is it any wonder that I may have indulged at the local Martini Bar on Friday night while updating my mom on all the particulars?
To be honest with you, as ready as I am to depart this household, I don't have a place to land yet. My company and my professional engagements have grown - but not quite enough just yet. Those are ends I am desperately trying to match up as quickly as possible...understanding that ultimately the journey is not in my control.
All I can do is act in a way that I can be proud of...so that when this nightmare is over, I'm not haunted by actions that were mean and childish. My record isn't spotless, but I'm doing the best I can to make sure that it stays as clean as possible.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Happy from Afar
So, I think it's a very good thing that I am in the midst of 2012 Apple Adventures.
There's nothing like taking out your stress on a bag of apples that
need to be peeled and chopped. It's a methodical process that provides a
lot of firm sensory feedback, almost soothing to a soul that's raging
on the tumultuous waters of life.
And I am not ashamed to admit that I am the soul that needs soothing.
Today, one of my dearest friends took me out to lunch to confess that she's decided to pursue a relationship with my ex-huband. She doesn't want to be called his girlfriend (it's too soon for that) - but they have already kissed, so they intend to see where this may lead.
Did I mention that I am currently living with my ex?
Have you been following the sordid tales of my adventures this year in working with him to get a property we share ready for an appraisal? If you haven't, you're missing out - I am not going to lie. It's a great story!
And so, it's not that I begrudge their happiness.
Love happens; and attraction doesn't follow the rules. I operate a Love Letters community - I of all people know how spontaneous and imaginative the feelings of love are, and can be. So, on those terms, we're good.
I told her that it wasn't going to ruin our friendship, but that the parameters of our friendship would indeed change - there's no way to ignore or deny that fate. I also told her that she may be exactly what he needs - and that they may be very good for each other; different temperaments, like bodies, fit together differently - and some better than others.
I just don't want to tell her I told her so...when she comes to me frustrated about his behavior or about how our friendship has changed...
So, I am hoping for the best - for all of us: that they will be happy together - and that I will be able to survey their happiness from a different vantage point - not from the room down the hall.
And I am not ashamed to admit that I am the soul that needs soothing.
Today, one of my dearest friends took me out to lunch to confess that she's decided to pursue a relationship with my ex-huband. She doesn't want to be called his girlfriend (it's too soon for that) - but they have already kissed, so they intend to see where this may lead.
Did I mention that I am currently living with my ex?
Have you been following the sordid tales of my adventures this year in working with him to get a property we share ready for an appraisal? If you haven't, you're missing out - I am not going to lie. It's a great story!
And so, it's not that I begrudge their happiness.
Love happens; and attraction doesn't follow the rules. I operate a Love Letters community - I of all people know how spontaneous and imaginative the feelings of love are, and can be. So, on those terms, we're good.
I told her that it wasn't going to ruin our friendship, but that the parameters of our friendship would indeed change - there's no way to ignore or deny that fate. I also told her that she may be exactly what he needs - and that they may be very good for each other; different temperaments, like bodies, fit together differently - and some better than others.
I just don't want to tell her I told her so...when she comes to me frustrated about his behavior or about how our friendship has changed...
So, I am hoping for the best - for all of us: that they will be happy together - and that I will be able to survey their happiness from a different vantage point - not from the room down the hall.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
stuffed with kisses
We were indulging in a little before-sleepy-time-snuggle, me and the kid. Hunkered under the quilt and listing to the high powered fan cut through the quiet night.
I kissed the tip of my finger and dramatically space-shipped it up-and-over to his face. I made sure that it landed on the tip of his nose.
He giggled.
"Aw, man. I'm stuffed," he expressed delightedly.
"Wait. What?" I answered. "You're stuffed with kisses?"
"Yep," his answer was thick with amusement. "I'm not hungry anymore, because I'm stuffed!" He said it dramatically, with lots of emphasis on the word "stuffed."
"So, no more kisses?" I was checking. This momma wants to get in all the kisses I can, while I still can.
"No. I'm stuffed."
He used it perfectly - just as any of us would have after Thanksgiving dinner. And two thoughts immediately hit me...
One
I am so proud of how he's developed and progressed this past year in his ability to express himself. The kid has HFA (High Functioning Autism) and has experienced delays in many areas of development - speech being one of the major ones. We've worked hard, first with different Early Intervention Strategies and then with consistent Speech Therapy, in both a school and clinical setting.
The fact that he's internalized this idiom and is able to express it, thrills my heart. Sure, the usage is a little nontraditional but if you were a part of our family, you'd know that we feast regularly on a diet of big, fat, juicy kisses.
Two
I am so proud to have established a home environment where my kid can say - delightedly - that he's stuffed with kisses. It's been a goal to make sure that love is expressed in our household. It doesn't meant that we're happy-go-lucky all the time; but it does mean that we take every single opportunity to express affection and sincere love.
It'll change soon. Before I know it, kisses will go out of vogue. I'll have to transition to something a little more manly, like fist bumps. But, it'll be a love-expression all the same!
I kissed the tip of my finger and dramatically space-shipped it up-and-over to his face. I made sure that it landed on the tip of his nose.
He giggled.
"Aw, man. I'm stuffed," he expressed delightedly.
"Wait. What?" I answered. "You're stuffed with kisses?"
"Yep," his answer was thick with amusement. "I'm not hungry anymore, because I'm stuffed!" He said it dramatically, with lots of emphasis on the word "stuffed."
"So, no more kisses?" I was checking. This momma wants to get in all the kisses I can, while I still can.
"No. I'm stuffed."
He used it perfectly - just as any of us would have after Thanksgiving dinner. And two thoughts immediately hit me...
One
I am so proud of how he's developed and progressed this past year in his ability to express himself. The kid has HFA (High Functioning Autism) and has experienced delays in many areas of development - speech being one of the major ones. We've worked hard, first with different Early Intervention Strategies and then with consistent Speech Therapy, in both a school and clinical setting.
The fact that he's internalized this idiom and is able to express it, thrills my heart. Sure, the usage is a little nontraditional but if you were a part of our family, you'd know that we feast regularly on a diet of big, fat, juicy kisses.
Two
I am so proud to have established a home environment where my kid can say - delightedly - that he's stuffed with kisses. It's been a goal to make sure that love is expressed in our household. It doesn't meant that we're happy-go-lucky all the time; but it does mean that we take every single opportunity to express affection and sincere love.
It'll change soon. Before I know it, kisses will go out of vogue. I'll have to transition to something a little more manly, like fist bumps. But, it'll be a love-expression all the same!
a frog story
It's a small story. One that I won't take too long to tell.
(Oh, my. I heard that sigh of relief. Am I really that long winded?)
I pulled up into the driveway this evening, mind filled with tasks to get ready for the yard sale I have scheduled way too early in the morning. And as I pulled up, I noticed a blot on my white garage door. At first I thought it was a leaf - we did have some righteous storms this afternoon and evening.
But the closer I got to the garage, the more I noticed its shape. A frog.
A sign of good luck - as far as I'm concerned. Of vitality...of peace...
Of course, this could be because of Peace Frogs.
I also had a frog volleyball tee in high school when I was playing on the varsity team.
Whatever the reason, frogs give me a good feeling.
Hope mixed with determination and a bit of the organic spice that flavors life.
(You can call me weirdo - that's okay. I get it a lot.)
I kept the lights on and got out of my car to take a closer look - and to snap a pic. He had his head angled just so, as if he were posing for the shot.
"Hey, buddy. That was a good shot. But I am going to come closer for another one. Stay put. I'd rather you not jump off while I am trying to get closer."
He didn't move. And I got a great shot.
"Thanks, man. That one was even better."
Then I realized we had a problem.
"Hey, man. I'm gonna need you to move. I've got to get in and start getting the signs ready for tomorrow's sale. I'd rather not have to lift the door with you still attached. Um, I'm pretty sure that you don't want me to either. So, if you could go ahead and make plans to be somewhere else, I'd appreciate that."
He lifted his head and turned it just a bit.
I'm not sure if it was an action of rebellion: "Who are you to tell me what to do, woman?!"
It might have been an action of acquiescence: "Of course. I understand and will act while you're away."
Either way, I didn't push the issue.
I left him to deal with things inside the house. I'll be back out soon enough and will deal with the situation then.
I really hope he hops away.
(Oh, my. I heard that sigh of relief. Am I really that long winded?)
I pulled up into the driveway this evening, mind filled with tasks to get ready for the yard sale I have scheduled way too early in the morning. And as I pulled up, I noticed a blot on my white garage door. At first I thought it was a leaf - we did have some righteous storms this afternoon and evening.
But the closer I got to the garage, the more I noticed its shape. A frog.
A sign of good luck - as far as I'm concerned. Of vitality...of peace...
Of course, this could be because of Peace Frogs.
I also had a frog volleyball tee in high school when I was playing on the varsity team.
Whatever the reason, frogs give me a good feeling.
Hope mixed with determination and a bit of the organic spice that flavors life.
(You can call me weirdo - that's okay. I get it a lot.)
I kept the lights on and got out of my car to take a closer look - and to snap a pic. He had his head angled just so, as if he were posing for the shot.
"Hey, buddy. That was a good shot. But I am going to come closer for another one. Stay put. I'd rather you not jump off while I am trying to get closer."
He didn't move. And I got a great shot.
"Thanks, man. That one was even better."
Then I realized we had a problem.
"Hey, man. I'm gonna need you to move. I've got to get in and start getting the signs ready for tomorrow's sale. I'd rather not have to lift the door with you still attached. Um, I'm pretty sure that you don't want me to either. So, if you could go ahead and make plans to be somewhere else, I'd appreciate that."
He lifted his head and turned it just a bit.
I'm not sure if it was an action of rebellion: "Who are you to tell me what to do, woman?!"
It might have been an action of acquiescence: "Of course. I understand and will act while you're away."
Either way, I didn't push the issue.
I left him to deal with things inside the house. I'll be back out soon enough and will deal with the situation then.
I really hope he hops away.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
thoughts on single motherhood
I spent the better part
of my day sitting with a friend in the Clinic, first at her doc's
appointment and then at her Pre-Op appointment. These were both in
preparation for her surgery that's scheduled this coming Friday.
I don't see this friend often, but she is extremely dear to my heart. She's been there for me through my crazy growth and development, and has given me a sounding board to think through decisions of life and love. I really appreciate her patience as we worked together to sift through my insanity to find nuggets of truth in order to move forward with a better sense of self-determination and awareness.
She's been struggling with Endometriosis for approximately 10 years, but in the last 3 months or so, managing its symptoms has been almost impossible. Hence the surgery on Friday. It's the next step to finding out answers on how she can move forward with the life she wants to live.
She wants children.
This condition will not make it easy for her.
She's been waiting for Mr. Right.
Her heart longs for the romance, the wedding, the marriage, the new family, the happy household...
But time is ticking...
Her window to produce a healthy child and carry it to term is closing...even faster now with the ever-worsening developments of her condition in the last few months.
After we made it through the appointments (she had me sit-in with her on both of them for moral support), we talked through the last 6 to 8 months of life, which was a bit fuzzy for the both of us since we hadn't done a very good job keeping in touch. It was good to catch up. I've missed her.
I could also tell the conversation was precursory; there was something more pressing on her mind.
"What's it like being a single mom?"
I knew this was coming. She had already mentioned it a couple of times: how waiting for the right guy to share a family with didn't seem like a viable option anymore, how at least she could move forward with an important piece of that dream - if she did it now - and start a family of her own.
I didn't blame her for thinking that way. Not under her circumstances, for sure. But I really wouldn't wish single motherhood on anyone, especially my friends. Mothering is hard in a committed relationship where you have backup, never mind when you're alone.
I told her that if she was really, truly thinking about it that she needed to explore mommy-baby support groups within her local community.
I told her:
This isn't something you can (or should) do completely alone. You're going to need to have other people in your life to share the highs and lows with. And believe you me, you've no idea what highs and lows will come with motherhood until you are one. If you think you've seen dark days, just wait until you have a kid. You don't understand the meaning of dark until you're stretched beyond logic and reason to be bigger, a more selfless person than ever. But you've also never seen the sun, not until you've looked into your kid's face.
I want her to have a support group, even if that means she moves back to her home place to be close to her parents. I told her there was no point in being too worried about job loyalty when having a kid was going to challenge all loyalties within her heart for further examination.
Having kids makes you reevaluate everything.
And some things stay the same, but oh-so-many more things change.
Including yourself.
It helps to have someone outside of yourself be a witness to the change, a sounding board for the growing pains, a shoulder to cry on...
I don't doubt for an instant that she's strong enough to go it alone.
But, even strong people need support from time to time.
I don't see this friend often, but she is extremely dear to my heart. She's been there for me through my crazy growth and development, and has given me a sounding board to think through decisions of life and love. I really appreciate her patience as we worked together to sift through my insanity to find nuggets of truth in order to move forward with a better sense of self-determination and awareness.
She's been struggling with Endometriosis for approximately 10 years, but in the last 3 months or so, managing its symptoms has been almost impossible. Hence the surgery on Friday. It's the next step to finding out answers on how she can move forward with the life she wants to live.
She wants children.
This condition will not make it easy for her.
She's been waiting for Mr. Right.
Her heart longs for the romance, the wedding, the marriage, the new family, the happy household...
But time is ticking...
Her window to produce a healthy child and carry it to term is closing...even faster now with the ever-worsening developments of her condition in the last few months.
After we made it through the appointments (she had me sit-in with her on both of them for moral support), we talked through the last 6 to 8 months of life, which was a bit fuzzy for the both of us since we hadn't done a very good job keeping in touch. It was good to catch up. I've missed her.
I could also tell the conversation was precursory; there was something more pressing on her mind.
"What's it like being a single mom?"
I knew this was coming. She had already mentioned it a couple of times: how waiting for the right guy to share a family with didn't seem like a viable option anymore, how at least she could move forward with an important piece of that dream - if she did it now - and start a family of her own.
I didn't blame her for thinking that way. Not under her circumstances, for sure. But I really wouldn't wish single motherhood on anyone, especially my friends. Mothering is hard in a committed relationship where you have backup, never mind when you're alone.
I told her that if she was really, truly thinking about it that she needed to explore mommy-baby support groups within her local community.
I told her:
This isn't something you can (or should) do completely alone. You're going to need to have other people in your life to share the highs and lows with. And believe you me, you've no idea what highs and lows will come with motherhood until you are one. If you think you've seen dark days, just wait until you have a kid. You don't understand the meaning of dark until you're stretched beyond logic and reason to be bigger, a more selfless person than ever. But you've also never seen the sun, not until you've looked into your kid's face.
I want her to have a support group, even if that means she moves back to her home place to be close to her parents. I told her there was no point in being too worried about job loyalty when having a kid was going to challenge all loyalties within her heart for further examination.
Having kids makes you reevaluate everything.
And some things stay the same, but oh-so-many more things change.
Including yourself.
It helps to have someone outside of yourself be a witness to the change, a sounding board for the growing pains, a shoulder to cry on...
I don't doubt for an instant that she's strong enough to go it alone.
But, even strong people need support from time to time.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
What's up with you, Jenny?! (Part 4)
There's been a lot going on...
...and I am always surprised by how much people don't know about me.
I'm kind of a social network whore...but, be that as it may, it doesn't mean that anyone else is. So even though I post tons of updates, you may not be getting a whole picture.
This is Part 4 in explaining all the tiny bits that are making up my current big picture.
------
Jenny - The Professional (Part Four)
...and the writing continues...
re: Love Letters
No, I don't plan on writing only Love Letters for the rest of my life. I mean, more than likely I will because that's kinda my thing, but I've got a list of 15+ other titles that I'd like to write as well.
I've got plans for a Love Letters, Volume 3 to be completed towards the end of summer, but don't hold me to that. I am not sure what the next few months hold, and it may be more towards fall or Christmas before Vol 3 is completed and ready for purchase.
re: Next Series
The next book on the publishing-horizon will be book 1 of a new series called From Within (after this blog, which is after my initial idea back-way-on-back from my college days). The book will be titled, Black Magic Woman...and it's been sitting on my coffee table for about five weeks now. All the content is written, it just needs to go through a thorough initial editing so that I can pass it to my Content Editors.
The content is rougher around the edges than what readers will be used to in Love Letters. It's an accumulation of my Id's play space - very raw and blunt observations on life as it pertains to heritage and passion.
I've got three books slated for the From Within series. Like I've already stated, book 1 has all of its content. Book 2 and book 3 have about 1/2 of their content complete.
re: Blogs
I've got a handful of blogs: From Within (personal commentary), my OK place (traveling), the dark side (personal commentary protected behind a Content Warning) and yummy-goodness (food and cooking) - all of which I plan to continue. At the moment they are hosted on Blogger, but I do intend to continue them on my own domain (jab's plethora). Love Letters is also on Blogger and it will probably remain there for the time being.
Things have been supremely quite on the blogs for the last 3 months, but that was due to completing and publishing the books. (I may want to do it all, but I am learning that there is only so much that I can do at once...until they can provide me with aged clones, that is).
I've started a new blog on WordPress called Living with the Ex. You can find it at livingwiththeex.wordpress.com -- it seems that an unconventional opportunity to for me to move in with my ex-husband has made itself available...and I'm taking it. If you're interested in the how and why of it, I encourage you to read the blog.
re: Other Books
Like I said, I have 15+ titles that are nagging at me to get them written. There will be other works published in the future, whether I am able to eventually support myself on this pipe dream, whether a big-momma publisher picks me up, or whether I am working for someone else and writing on the side. The third option is my least favorite, for obvious reasons, but the writing just isn't going to stop.
I'm crazy for it, and you might as well commit me now.
------
Part 5 is coming soon...
...we'll discuss personal life events and changes...
...and I am always surprised by how much people don't know about me.
I'm kind of a social network whore...but, be that as it may, it doesn't mean that anyone else is. So even though I post tons of updates, you may not be getting a whole picture.
This is Part 4 in explaining all the tiny bits that are making up my current big picture.
------
Jenny - The Professional (Part Four)
...and the writing continues...
re: Love Letters
No, I don't plan on writing only Love Letters for the rest of my life. I mean, more than likely I will because that's kinda my thing, but I've got a list of 15+ other titles that I'd like to write as well.
I've got plans for a Love Letters, Volume 3 to be completed towards the end of summer, but don't hold me to that. I am not sure what the next few months hold, and it may be more towards fall or Christmas before Vol 3 is completed and ready for purchase.
re: Next Series
The next book on the publishing-horizon will be book 1 of a new series called From Within (after this blog, which is after my initial idea back-way-on-back from my college days). The book will be titled, Black Magic Woman...and it's been sitting on my coffee table for about five weeks now. All the content is written, it just needs to go through a thorough initial editing so that I can pass it to my Content Editors.
The content is rougher around the edges than what readers will be used to in Love Letters. It's an accumulation of my Id's play space - very raw and blunt observations on life as it pertains to heritage and passion.
I've got three books slated for the From Within series. Like I've already stated, book 1 has all of its content. Book 2 and book 3 have about 1/2 of their content complete.
re: Blogs
I've got a handful of blogs: From Within (personal commentary), my OK place (traveling), the dark side (personal commentary protected behind a Content Warning) and yummy-goodness (food and cooking) - all of which I plan to continue. At the moment they are hosted on Blogger, but I do intend to continue them on my own domain (jab's plethora). Love Letters is also on Blogger and it will probably remain there for the time being.
Things have been supremely quite on the blogs for the last 3 months, but that was due to completing and publishing the books. (I may want to do it all, but I am learning that there is only so much that I can do at once...until they can provide me with aged clones, that is).
I've started a new blog on WordPress called Living with the Ex. You can find it at livingwiththeex.wordpress.com -- it seems that an unconventional opportunity to for me to move in with my ex-husband has made itself available...and I'm taking it. If you're interested in the how and why of it, I encourage you to read the blog.
re: Other Books
Like I said, I have 15+ titles that are nagging at me to get them written. There will be other works published in the future, whether I am able to eventually support myself on this pipe dream, whether a big-momma publisher picks me up, or whether I am working for someone else and writing on the side. The third option is my least favorite, for obvious reasons, but the writing just isn't going to stop.
I'm crazy for it, and you might as well commit me now.
------
Part 5 is coming soon...
...we'll discuss personal life events and changes...
What's Up with you, Jenny?! (Part 3)
There's been a lot going on...
...and I am always surprised by how much people don't know about me.
I'm kind of a social network whore...but, be that as it may, it doesn't mean that anyone else is. So even though I post tons of updates, you may not be getting a whole picture.
This is Part 3 in explaining all the tiny bits that are making up my current big picture.
------
Jenny - The Professional (Part Three)
On Christmas Eve, I was spending time with friends who have become family, sharing a meal and catching up on the details of life. It was my turn to talk, so I dished about my little company's growth and how I wanted to move forward...
...at some point, I'd really like to be in a position to give back to the community. I just don't know how yet, but I'm sure something will come to light.
My friend, the hostess, starting grinning and her eyes got sparkly.
(A bit of background information: she's a teacher at one of our local private schools.)
You know...we're in need of some professionals to come in and teach elective classes for the Spring Term. We don't have many options open for this kids this time around. Would you be willing to teach a writing class of sorts?
If life was like the movies, angels would have appeared and starting singing the Hallelujah chorus.
I knew immediately that I really wanted to do this, and started dusting off my teacher-skills (I was an 8th grade Language Arts teacher in 2002) so that I could put together a rough-draft syllabus. I've been spending time since that meeting trying to organize what I've learned in the last 3 months into a class outline appropriate for middle school aged students.
I received an initial approval from my friend and the teacher who heads up the Middle School. On January 13th, I presented the idea to the students and tried to make it sound as appealing as possible. Being published as a 6th, 7th or 8th grader will make just about anyone's eyes grow wide and dreamy, so I threw in a little reality check as well: I mentioned that if they didn't like to write, there was really no reason to sign up.
I mean for goodness sake, I really like to write and there are some days when I want to throw my hands up move on to something else.
Here's a rough draft of the project. Enjoy!
Write My Life is a course where students will be taught the process of self publishing. The syllabus includes an intense outline of objectives, each one stair-stepping towards the end goal: a published book.
Here's a basic outline on what you can expect:
1. Writing: Students will be using the Love and Appreciation Movement framework provided by jab's Love Letters to write expressive letters in each of the six (6) categories: I love you, I thank you, I miss you, I want you, I'm sorry, and I hope for you. The overall focus will challenge each student to acknowledge the important people in their lives by offering sentiments of love and appreciation.
2. Editing: Students will learn the importance of editing over and over again in order to provide the best possible content for the book. Editing sessions will include: individual editing, peer editing, workshop editing and teacher-to-student editing. Instruction in the differences between Content and Copy editing will be outlined so that the students have a working knowledge of how to incorporate each one in their review of content.
3. Formatting: The class will review the basic parts of a book and make some basic decisions on how the book and content within the book should be formatted. (The publisher will have final discretion in order to provide a high quality end product.)
4. Designing: The class will review the aspects of a successful book cover and incorporate those elements in the objectives list provided to the Designer. (The publisher will have final discretion in collaboration with the contracted Designer, in this case August Knight [http://augustknight.com], in order to provide a high quality end product.)
5. Autobiographies: Each student will be required to submit an brief autobiography that will be included in the book. The syllabus outline will challenge the students to focus on different aspects of self with the objective of inspiring a new awareness of personality and character within each child.
6. Marketing: Basic marketing strategies, including very basic email campaigns and the use of social networks, will be covered in order to raise awareness within the students on the responsibilities of "getting the word out." School-based outlets (website, newsletter, etc...) will be utilized as much as possible in order to raise awareness within the entire school community. (The publisher will also make its marketing platforms available in order to increase the profitability of the project.)
7. Community Awareness: The class will discuss the importance of success for personal gain, but also for the opportunity to "give back" to the community. In this case, students will be urged to use their marketing skills in order to sell the book as much as possible so that a portion of the proceeds can be returned to the school. Students will be challenged to investigate real needs within the school so that the opportunity of giving back is effective to its fullest potential. Proceeds will be collected for a year after publication and presented to the school by as many of the original students who are available to attending the ceremony.
8. Reviews / the Power of Social Marketing: Students will learn first-hand how important positive product reviews are and how to write them. The class will discuss the importance and weight of comments made and posted to social networks and online product pages.
------
Jenny - The Professional (Part 4) is coming soon...
...and I am always surprised by how much people don't know about me.
I'm kind of a social network whore...but, be that as it may, it doesn't mean that anyone else is. So even though I post tons of updates, you may not be getting a whole picture.
This is Part 3 in explaining all the tiny bits that are making up my current big picture.
------
Jenny - The Professional (Part Three)
On Christmas Eve, I was spending time with friends who have become family, sharing a meal and catching up on the details of life. It was my turn to talk, so I dished about my little company's growth and how I wanted to move forward...
...at some point, I'd really like to be in a position to give back to the community. I just don't know how yet, but I'm sure something will come to light.
My friend, the hostess, starting grinning and her eyes got sparkly.
(A bit of background information: she's a teacher at one of our local private schools.)
You know...we're in need of some professionals to come in and teach elective classes for the Spring Term. We don't have many options open for this kids this time around. Would you be willing to teach a writing class of sorts?
If life was like the movies, angels would have appeared and starting singing the Hallelujah chorus.
I knew immediately that I really wanted to do this, and started dusting off my teacher-skills (I was an 8th grade Language Arts teacher in 2002) so that I could put together a rough-draft syllabus. I've been spending time since that meeting trying to organize what I've learned in the last 3 months into a class outline appropriate for middle school aged students.
I received an initial approval from my friend and the teacher who heads up the Middle School. On January 13th, I presented the idea to the students and tried to make it sound as appealing as possible. Being published as a 6th, 7th or 8th grader will make just about anyone's eyes grow wide and dreamy, so I threw in a little reality check as well: I mentioned that if they didn't like to write, there was really no reason to sign up.
I mean for goodness sake, I really like to write and there are some days when I want to throw my hands up move on to something else.
Here's a rough draft of the project. Enjoy!
Write My Life is a course where students will be taught the process of self publishing. The syllabus includes an intense outline of objectives, each one stair-stepping towards the end goal: a published book.
Here's a basic outline on what you can expect:
1. Writing: Students will be using the Love and Appreciation Movement framework provided by jab's Love Letters to write expressive letters in each of the six (6) categories: I love you, I thank you, I miss you, I want you, I'm sorry, and I hope for you. The overall focus will challenge each student to acknowledge the important people in their lives by offering sentiments of love and appreciation.
2. Editing: Students will learn the importance of editing over and over again in order to provide the best possible content for the book. Editing sessions will include: individual editing, peer editing, workshop editing and teacher-to-student editing. Instruction in the differences between Content and Copy editing will be outlined so that the students have a working knowledge of how to incorporate each one in their review of content.
3. Formatting: The class will review the basic parts of a book and make some basic decisions on how the book and content within the book should be formatted. (The publisher will have final discretion in order to provide a high quality end product.)
4. Designing: The class will review the aspects of a successful book cover and incorporate those elements in the objectives list provided to the Designer. (The publisher will have final discretion in collaboration with the contracted Designer, in this case August Knight [http://augustknight.com], in order to provide a high quality end product.)
5. Autobiographies: Each student will be required to submit an brief autobiography that will be included in the book. The syllabus outline will challenge the students to focus on different aspects of self with the objective of inspiring a new awareness of personality and character within each child.
6. Marketing: Basic marketing strategies, including very basic email campaigns and the use of social networks, will be covered in order to raise awareness within the students on the responsibilities of "getting the word out." School-based outlets (website, newsletter, etc...) will be utilized as much as possible in order to raise awareness within the entire school community. (The publisher will also make its marketing platforms available in order to increase the profitability of the project.)
7. Community Awareness: The class will discuss the importance of success for personal gain, but also for the opportunity to "give back" to the community. In this case, students will be urged to use their marketing skills in order to sell the book as much as possible so that a portion of the proceeds can be returned to the school. Students will be challenged to investigate real needs within the school so that the opportunity of giving back is effective to its fullest potential. Proceeds will be collected for a year after publication and presented to the school by as many of the original students who are available to attending the ceremony.
8. Reviews / the Power of Social Marketing: Students will learn first-hand how important positive product reviews are and how to write them. The class will discuss the importance and weight of comments made and posted to social networks and online product pages.
------
Jenny - The Professional (Part 4) is coming soon...
...I mean, I am not just going to write Love Letters until the end of time...
Saturday, January 14, 2012
What's Up with you, Jenny?! (Part 2)
There's been a lot going on...
...and I am always surprised by how much people don't know about me.
I'm kind of a social network whore...but, be that as it may, it doesn't mean that anyone else is. So even though I post tons of updates, you may not be getting a whole picture.
This is Part 2 in explaining all the tiny bits that are making up my current big picture.
------
Jenny - The Professional (Part Two)
In Part 1 I told you that I now own a company: jab's plethora
The company was set up so that I can self publish from a strong platform. I don't want to take the time to convince major publishers that any of my ideas are good ones (at least not at this point). That takes a lot of time and energy; and I would much rather focus on the list of projects that I'd like to see come to fruition (I've got a bunch of them). So, that's what I'm doing. If big-momma-publisher sees me doing my thing and wants to pick me up, that'd be lovely. But, I'm not going to hold my breath.
I have a lot of content already written that just needs to be edited and formatted into books :D
The first project I decided to tackle was the Love Letters series and at this point I have both Book 1 and Book 2 published and available for purchase.
BY THE WAY -- I have a Facebook page (and would appreciate your "like") and am currently working on the website. I hope to have an initial site ready for launch sometime before the end of this month. (But for other reasons, not yet discussed, that's gonna be a stretch.)
------
BOOK 1 - Love Letters, Volume 1: Moving On, Growing Up
Based on the real-life journey of a woman who wanted to grab every opportunity to express love and appreciation for the people who added value to her life: family, friends, lovers...no one is excluded. This collection of love letters helps us realize that many different people help shape the course of our life; and we should treasure every person, every moment that brings us to this exact spot within our development. Face your love!
The Love Letters collection has inspired the Love and Appreciation movement, encouraging each person to acknowledge the special people in their lives by writing their own love letter. It isn't hard and doesn't require eloquence, only sincerity. Be a part of the online community: jabsloveletters.com
BOOK 2 - Love Letters, Volume 2: Being Adult
The Love and Appreciation Movement, inspired by the Love Letters series, continues forward encompassing a new category: tribulation. Life isn't perfect, neither is love. Our experiences are multi-faceted and perfect only because of their imperfections. Love Letters, Volume 2: Being Adult explores the idea of love with a deeper, more complex analysis. Each letter expresses love - as it is, raging with honesty.
The author continues her journey detailing a commitment to a. love herself and b. love others. She transforms her passion into the kinds of words that grab hearts and inspire change. Her perspective challenges each person to acknowledge the love that resides in their heart; and share it with the understanding that shared-love will ripple outward, like lake water disturbed by a pebble.
Although the books are within the same series and formatted the same way (using categories), they are different beasts.
I like to say that Book 1 is like cotton candy. It's short and sweet...and can be read over your morning cup of coffee. You can read the reviews posted on Amazon to get a better idea of what to expect. After you read the book, I'd love it if you posted your own review on Amazon or emailed it to info@jabsloveletters.com
Book 2 is about 40 pages longer than the first one...and is denser. Instead of cotton candy, it's more like Shepherd's Pie. The writing is more expressive, more emotional. It was published on January 10th, so there aren't any reviews yet on Amazon, but I'd be pleased as punch if you decided to write a review after reading it. You can also send a review to info@loveletters.com -- we'd love to post it on our various social networks.
If you're interested in purchasing an autographed copy of either of the books, I will have them available for purchase on the site (only Book 1 is available at the time of this blog post). If you aren't worried about having an autographed copy and/or would like information on how to find an eBook version of the books - I've got that information available on the website.
***If you have any problems with the website...a link, a form submission, a purchase, etc...please let me know - you can email info@jabsloveletters.com and tell me what's going on. I would appreciate your support in this matter, as I am running in 15 bazillion directions and sometimes smaller details are missed (ack - did I admit that?! sure enough did...)
------
Jenny - The Professional (Part 3) is coming soon...
...and we'll talk about the Write My Life project.
...and I am always surprised by how much people don't know about me.
I'm kind of a social network whore...but, be that as it may, it doesn't mean that anyone else is. So even though I post tons of updates, you may not be getting a whole picture.
This is Part 2 in explaining all the tiny bits that are making up my current big picture.
------
Jenny - The Professional (Part Two)
In Part 1 I told you that I now own a company: jab's plethora
The company was set up so that I can self publish from a strong platform. I don't want to take the time to convince major publishers that any of my ideas are good ones (at least not at this point). That takes a lot of time and energy; and I would much rather focus on the list of projects that I'd like to see come to fruition (I've got a bunch of them). So, that's what I'm doing. If big-momma-publisher sees me doing my thing and wants to pick me up, that'd be lovely. But, I'm not going to hold my breath.
I have a lot of content already written that just needs to be edited and formatted into books :D
The first project I decided to tackle was the Love Letters series and at this point I have both Book 1 and Book 2 published and available for purchase.
BY THE WAY -- I have a Facebook page (and would appreciate your "like") and am currently working on the website. I hope to have an initial site ready for launch sometime before the end of this month. (But for other reasons, not yet discussed, that's gonna be a stretch.)
------
BOOK 1 - Love Letters, Volume 1: Moving On, Growing Up
Based on the real-life journey of a woman who wanted to grab every opportunity to express love and appreciation for the people who added value to her life: family, friends, lovers...no one is excluded. This collection of love letters helps us realize that many different people help shape the course of our life; and we should treasure every person, every moment that brings us to this exact spot within our development. Face your love!
The Love Letters collection has inspired the Love and Appreciation movement, encouraging each person to acknowledge the special people in their lives by writing their own love letter. It isn't hard and doesn't require eloquence, only sincerity. Be a part of the online community: jabsloveletters.com
BOOK 2 - Love Letters, Volume 2: Being Adult
The Love and Appreciation Movement, inspired by the Love Letters series, continues forward encompassing a new category: tribulation. Life isn't perfect, neither is love. Our experiences are multi-faceted and perfect only because of their imperfections. Love Letters, Volume 2: Being Adult explores the idea of love with a deeper, more complex analysis. Each letter expresses love - as it is, raging with honesty.
The author continues her journey detailing a commitment to a. love herself and b. love others. She transforms her passion into the kinds of words that grab hearts and inspire change. Her perspective challenges each person to acknowledge the love that resides in their heart; and share it with the understanding that shared-love will ripple outward, like lake water disturbed by a pebble.
Although the books are within the same series and formatted the same way (using categories), they are different beasts.
I like to say that Book 1 is like cotton candy. It's short and sweet...and can be read over your morning cup of coffee. You can read the reviews posted on Amazon to get a better idea of what to expect. After you read the book, I'd love it if you posted your own review on Amazon or emailed it to info@jabsloveletters.com
Book 2 is about 40 pages longer than the first one...and is denser. Instead of cotton candy, it's more like Shepherd's Pie. The writing is more expressive, more emotional. It was published on January 10th, so there aren't any reviews yet on Amazon, but I'd be pleased as punch if you decided to write a review after reading it. You can also send a review to info@loveletters.com -- we'd love to post it on our various social networks.
If you're interested in purchasing an autographed copy of either of the books, I will have them available for purchase on the site (only Book 1 is available at the time of this blog post). If you aren't worried about having an autographed copy and/or would like information on how to find an eBook version of the books - I've got that information available on the website.
***If you have any problems with the website...a link, a form submission, a purchase, etc...please let me know - you can email info@jabsloveletters.com and tell me what's going on. I would appreciate your support in this matter, as I am running in 15 bazillion directions and sometimes smaller details are missed (ack - did I admit that?! sure enough did...)
------
Jenny - The Professional (Part 3) is coming soon...
...and we'll talk about the Write My Life project.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
What's Up with you, Jenny?! (Part 1)
There's been a lot going on...
...and I am always surprised by how much people don't know about me.
I'm kind of a social network whore...but, be that as it may, it doesn't mean that anyone else is. So even though I post tons of updates, you may not be getting a whole picture.
This is Part 1 in explaining all the tiny bits that are making up my current big picture.
------
Jenny - The Professional (Part One)
I don't work at WebSpark anymore. I left my position as Operations Manager in October 2011 for many reasons. One of the strongest, most compelling, back-me-into-a-corner type reason was that I wanted to pursue my writing career.
And so, that's what I've done.
I am on a path I would have never expected, but here I am...and loving it.
I own my own company: jab's plethora
I have a Facebook page (and would appreciate your "like") and am currently working on the website. I hope to have an initial site ready for launch sometime before the end of this month. (But for other reasons, not yet discussed, that's gonna be a stretch.)
***And let me take a moment to be thankful for my previous position at WebSpark. I was there for 2+ years and learned many, many skills that I am utilizing now.***
The company was set up so that I can self publish from a strong platform. I don't want to take the time to convince major publishers that any of my ideas are good ones (at least not at this point). That takes a lot of time and energy; and I would much rather focus on the list of projects that I'd like to see come to fruition (I've got a bunch of them). So, that's what I'm doing. If big-momma-publisher sees me doing my thing and wants to pick me up, that'd be lovely. But, I'm not going to hold my breath.
The first project I decided to tackle was the Love Letters series. As I invested time into the project, I was inspired to create a website to collect other people's love letters, if they wanted to share them. I've been running the jab's Love Letters website since November and encourage everyone to come and take a look.
I wanted the website to have a solid and professional looking Home Page and I had a few NC local photographers agree to be featured! Check out their work and book their services!
The website offers a simple contact form so that people can send in their letters!
I also thought it would be nice to allow people to post snapshots of love, so we've got a submission form for that as well.
I'd really like people to get comfortable with the idea to send us Love Letter videos so that we can post them to our YouTube Channel, but that's probably going to take a while; or it may be something that I can explore for book signing events. if you're a YouTube junkie, please subscribe to the channel. I would much appreciate it!
If you're interested in purchasing an autographed copy of either of the books, I will have them available for purchase on the site (only Book 1 is available at the time of this blog post). If you aren't worried about having an autographed copy and/or would like information on how to find an eBook version of the books - I've got that information available on the website as well.
***If you have any problems with the website...a link, a form submission, a purchase, etc...please let me know - you can email info@jabsloveletters.com and tell me what's going on. I would appreciate your support in this matter, as I am running in 15 bazillion directions and sometimes smaller details are missed (ack - did I admit that?! sure enough did...)
One of the most important things to know about the jab's Love Letters website is that new love letters (and pictures) are posted EVERY THURSDAY. Visit the site each week to see how people are expressing love and appreciation to each other.
Tell your friends...
Email your favorite news station...
Post a comment on your various social networks...
TALK IT UP!!! Valentine's Day is coming up and it's a perfect shoo-in...
------
Jenny - The Professional (Part 2) is coming soon...
...and we'll discuss a little bit more about the first two books that I've published.
...and I am always surprised by how much people don't know about me.
I'm kind of a social network whore...but, be that as it may, it doesn't mean that anyone else is. So even though I post tons of updates, you may not be getting a whole picture.
This is Part 1 in explaining all the tiny bits that are making up my current big picture.
------
Jenny - The Professional (Part One)
I don't work at WebSpark anymore. I left my position as Operations Manager in October 2011 for many reasons. One of the strongest, most compelling, back-me-into-a-corner type reason was that I wanted to pursue my writing career.
And so, that's what I've done.
I am on a path I would have never expected, but here I am...and loving it.
I own my own company: jab's plethora
I have a Facebook page (and would appreciate your "like") and am currently working on the website. I hope to have an initial site ready for launch sometime before the end of this month. (But for other reasons, not yet discussed, that's gonna be a stretch.)
***And let me take a moment to be thankful for my previous position at WebSpark. I was there for 2+ years and learned many, many skills that I am utilizing now.***
The company was set up so that I can self publish from a strong platform. I don't want to take the time to convince major publishers that any of my ideas are good ones (at least not at this point). That takes a lot of time and energy; and I would much rather focus on the list of projects that I'd like to see come to fruition (I've got a bunch of them). So, that's what I'm doing. If big-momma-publisher sees me doing my thing and wants to pick me up, that'd be lovely. But, I'm not going to hold my breath.
The first project I decided to tackle was the Love Letters series. As I invested time into the project, I was inspired to create a website to collect other people's love letters, if they wanted to share them. I've been running the jab's Love Letters website since November and encourage everyone to come and take a look.
I wanted the website to have a solid and professional looking Home Page and I had a few NC local photographers agree to be featured! Check out their work and book their services!
The website offers a simple contact form so that people can send in their letters!
I also thought it would be nice to allow people to post snapshots of love, so we've got a submission form for that as well.
I'd really like people to get comfortable with the idea to send us Love Letter videos so that we can post them to our YouTube Channel, but that's probably going to take a while; or it may be something that I can explore for book signing events. if you're a YouTube junkie, please subscribe to the channel. I would much appreciate it!
If you're interested in purchasing an autographed copy of either of the books, I will have them available for purchase on the site (only Book 1 is available at the time of this blog post). If you aren't worried about having an autographed copy and/or would like information on how to find an eBook version of the books - I've got that information available on the website as well.
***If you have any problems with the website...a link, a form submission, a purchase, etc...please let me know - you can email info@jabsloveletters.com and tell me what's going on. I would appreciate your support in this matter, as I am running in 15 bazillion directions and sometimes smaller details are missed (ack - did I admit that?! sure enough did...)
One of the most important things to know about the jab's Love Letters website is that new love letters (and pictures) are posted EVERY THURSDAY. Visit the site each week to see how people are expressing love and appreciation to each other.
Tell your friends...
Email your favorite news station...
Post a comment on your various social networks...
TALK IT UP!!! Valentine's Day is coming up and it's a perfect shoo-in...
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Jenny - The Professional (Part 2) is coming soon...
...and we'll discuss a little bit more about the first two books that I've published.
Monday, December 5, 2011
finding the right balance
I haven't written in a while, because I've been working on publishing some books. Kinda kills me, really. I can't believe that I've moved forward with that purpose. That I am, in fact, living the dream. And, it's amazing how many people are living it with me. This isn't something I could do alone. And as I consider that though, I wonder how many other dreams are, in fact, lived alone. There's an extensive amount of emotional support coming at me from different angles. I wonder if that's been predetermined for me, since I am fragile; or if that kind of support is given to each dreamer, in different ways, from different voices, but still given.
Anyway, to the point:
As I work on collecting content for future books, it dawns on me that if I don't continue to feed the fountain of raw content, that one day when I am searching for new thoughts to expand on, they will not be there....
A completely unacceptable fate. Especially, since this is my job. New content - raw or polished - is my job.
And so, as I get to learn this new position, it occurs to me the importance of finding the right balance. There's so many different things that I am in charge of, for myself and for others...in the last 6 weeks, I've chided myself for spending too much time on one thing. I haven't yet established a solid enough pattern to write things down on a schedule, but then, I'd like to force myself to be open to creating the schedule as it goes....
which can only work if I am self-disciplined enough to get the lesser fun things done.
Balance.
I mean, really?! Because at this point, it's the balance of fun and not-so-fun. It's all work, but then it would be profitable if it wasn't. But, I am very lucky to be able to category all my work as fun and not-so-fun....I mean, it could be much, much worse. It could be terrible and even-more-terrible. I will count my blessings; and find the balance.
Anyway, to the point:
As I work on collecting content for future books, it dawns on me that if I don't continue to feed the fountain of raw content, that one day when I am searching for new thoughts to expand on, they will not be there....
A completely unacceptable fate. Especially, since this is my job. New content - raw or polished - is my job.
And so, as I get to learn this new position, it occurs to me the importance of finding the right balance. There's so many different things that I am in charge of, for myself and for others...in the last 6 weeks, I've chided myself for spending too much time on one thing. I haven't yet established a solid enough pattern to write things down on a schedule, but then, I'd like to force myself to be open to creating the schedule as it goes....
which can only work if I am self-disciplined enough to get the lesser fun things done.
Balance.
I mean, really?! Because at this point, it's the balance of fun and not-so-fun. It's all work, but then it would be profitable if it wasn't. But, I am very lucky to be able to category all my work as fun and not-so-fun....I mean, it could be much, much worse. It could be terrible and even-more-terrible. I will count my blessings; and find the balance.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
hippo
I wasn't the teddy bear kind of girl.I used to sleep with a hippo.
The hippo, named Hippo (I was so creative as a child, wasn't I?), appeared in my life as a gift about the time I turned 8 years old. I don't know why I felt an immediate and intense bond with this small, purple stuffed animal; but I did.
I proudly slept with this animal as I grew up, toting him with me wherever I went: to sleepovers and summer camps, senior high school retreats and college dorm rooms. He's even traveled internationally with me - on several occasions, in fact (lucky little hippo).
And then I got married; and I respectfully placed him on the night table on my side of the bed. He was my guard-hippo; and only every now and then would I indulge in a hippo-snuggle, mostly if I was taking a nap solo or if my husband was gone for the weekend.
During my separation, I kept Hippo close (he's my family after all), but I wouldn't sleep-snuggle with him. There was something desperately sad and lonely in the act of embracing a stuffed animal after I had chosen a man to embrace in bed for the rest of my life and then went back on that promise.
Even now, divorce settled and water under the bridge, Hippo stands guard more than he provides comfort. Just because it doesn't feel right anymore. I am sure he understands, old friends always do. But it makes me sad.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
reflections on family
I am currently reading Paul Reiser's Familyhood.
This is the result one of those little trails in life that came up unexpected, and I took the opportunity to explore it.
------
"Hey, the bookstore in that shopping center is closing. Want to go check it out?"
Of course. I was game for just about anything on that lovely, childless afternoon. I could relish in my ability to be and act irresponsible. I hadn't "just perused" a bookstore in a long time; and I was certainly interested in enjoying the fact that I had no child tagging along to gripe and complain as I lingered over the shelves of books and CD's.
------
I walked alone through the shelves, just as I used to when my parents took me during my teenage years. It's an intense solitary string of moments when you open your mind to evaluate whether new stories, songs and information will become a part of your existence.
I have countless happy moments of learning lived in the quiet corners of bookstores.
------
The new Paul Reiser book shouted at me from its predominate display.
I thought: Hey, I know that guy!
And in a bookstore full of yet-unknowns, it is always nice to see a familiar face (or name).
I am familiar with Paul's expression through his first book, Couplehood. My uncle gave me that book when I started dating seriously and I enjoyed Paul's perspective of coupling immensely. It became a kind of subconscious subtext for me as I moved along in relationships.
Just a note: I haven't read Paul's second book, Babyhood, because I was very much in the midst of dealing with my own budding courtship and sooner-than-expected baby's arrival.
------
My definition of family has been challenged, yet again, through my recent divorce.
I mean, who doesn't already have issues with defining their family as they grow - which is something that Paul explores - but, I feel like divorce, when there's a young child (or children) involved presents a challenge to the splitting partners on how their not-yet-realized "family unit" will be maintained, if at all.
I would suspect that there are issues outlining a definition no matter how old the children are, a truth I can attest to, as I have seen my own parents struggle to maintain their relationship. I am the child with a child, waiting to hear about boundaries, lines in the sand and having to establish a few of my own, for the protection of my own heart.
------
And, as I work to carve out my own meaning and definition of family - the one that I want to banner-carry through my existence and for my son, I know - that for me - the participants included aren't just blood relatives.
They are the handful of people that have seen me at my weakest and most vulnerable, and have encouraged me to keep moving forward because they love and support me no matter what. They are the people that love my child and engage in his development on a direct level, knowing that their influence of love and acceptance will positively impact him.
------
I am not sure that Paul will get to this. I haven't gotten into the book very far yet and I expect that he'll talk more about the family that is right there in front of him: his wife and two boys, and their adventures together.
But his first couple of chapters have my mind churning through the brain-compost and I feel like the seeds of self-reflection are already taking root and sprouting.
I'll probably struggle to get through this book. There will be another wave of mourning over the family unit I started that now suffers through an awkward existence of halting development. There will mostly likely be a wave of mourning over acknowledging that my dream of a house full of boys (one big one and a handful of smaller ones) is most likely not a realistic life-path for me anymore....I can actually already feel the premonitional heart-tug, in a sad kind of way.
I am not saying that things can't change- just saying that the elements that make it what it is are heavy-sided.
------
In the midst of my self-reflection and honorific mournful rite, I am thankful for the handful of individuals who love me like family, because they are my family.
This is the result one of those little trails in life that came up unexpected, and I took the opportunity to explore it.
------
"Hey, the bookstore in that shopping center is closing. Want to go check it out?"
Of course. I was game for just about anything on that lovely, childless afternoon. I could relish in my ability to be and act irresponsible. I hadn't "just perused" a bookstore in a long time; and I was certainly interested in enjoying the fact that I had no child tagging along to gripe and complain as I lingered over the shelves of books and CD's.
------
I walked alone through the shelves, just as I used to when my parents took me during my teenage years. It's an intense solitary string of moments when you open your mind to evaluate whether new stories, songs and information will become a part of your existence.
I have countless happy moments of learning lived in the quiet corners of bookstores.
------
The new Paul Reiser book shouted at me from its predominate display.
I thought: Hey, I know that guy!
And in a bookstore full of yet-unknowns, it is always nice to see a familiar face (or name).
I am familiar with Paul's expression through his first book, Couplehood. My uncle gave me that book when I started dating seriously and I enjoyed Paul's perspective of coupling immensely. It became a kind of subconscious subtext for me as I moved along in relationships.
Just a note: I haven't read Paul's second book, Babyhood, because I was very much in the midst of dealing with my own budding courtship and sooner-than-expected baby's arrival.
------
My definition of family has been challenged, yet again, through my recent divorce.
I mean, who doesn't already have issues with defining their family as they grow - which is something that Paul explores - but, I feel like divorce, when there's a young child (or children) involved presents a challenge to the splitting partners on how their not-yet-realized "family unit" will be maintained, if at all.
I would suspect that there are issues outlining a definition no matter how old the children are, a truth I can attest to, as I have seen my own parents struggle to maintain their relationship. I am the child with a child, waiting to hear about boundaries, lines in the sand and having to establish a few of my own, for the protection of my own heart.
------
And, as I work to carve out my own meaning and definition of family - the one that I want to banner-carry through my existence and for my son, I know - that for me - the participants included aren't just blood relatives.
They are the handful of people that have seen me at my weakest and most vulnerable, and have encouraged me to keep moving forward because they love and support me no matter what. They are the people that love my child and engage in his development on a direct level, knowing that their influence of love and acceptance will positively impact him.
------
I am not sure that Paul will get to this. I haven't gotten into the book very far yet and I expect that he'll talk more about the family that is right there in front of him: his wife and two boys, and their adventures together.
But his first couple of chapters have my mind churning through the brain-compost and I feel like the seeds of self-reflection are already taking root and sprouting.
I'll probably struggle to get through this book. There will be another wave of mourning over the family unit I started that now suffers through an awkward existence of halting development. There will mostly likely be a wave of mourning over acknowledging that my dream of a house full of boys (one big one and a handful of smaller ones) is most likely not a realistic life-path for me anymore....I can actually already feel the premonitional heart-tug, in a sad kind of way.
I am not saying that things can't change- just saying that the elements that make it what it is are heavy-sided.
------
In the midst of my self-reflection and honorific mournful rite, I am thankful for the handful of individuals who love me like family, because they are my family.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
adventures in camping (april 2011)
I went camping with my boyfriend and my son together for the first time.
Let me clarify.
It was the first time I went on a camping trip with my new boyfriend. We had started dating the month before and things were going well. He was easy to get along with and, although we were concerned about long term compatibility, we were mostly content to enjoy the moment. He didn't seem to mind dealing with the fact that I was a single mom and applauded me for my efforts in investing in my child's development. He was nice to my kid, which is really the extent to which a girl in my position can ask for without crossing a line. This guy took really good care of me, something that I had been missing in a life partner for a while up until this point, so I was lapping him up; trying my best not to be over-gluttonous (clearly, I wasn't ashamed of a little gluttony).
And, it was the first time I was taking my kid, who lives with moderate autism, camping. The kid's atypical sensory processing is hard to judge and is more than a little exhausting when it's off kilter more than usual, which is all dependent on his ability to cope...or not (which, in itself, is dependent on things like rest, health, eating right, clothing fabrics/tags, potty issues, new environments, routines...you get the point). I've committed to making sure that he experiences as much as he can, as much as I am able to manage as his mom. That's really the crux of it: I have to have a pretty decent inner reserve in order to help him manage and cope through new sensory experiences. I do the best I can as a single career-professional. I am by no means perfect, but I give it my best shot.
Thank goodness for a good group of camping friends!
The choice to haul a bunch of stuff into the middle of the woods and "set up house" is not one easily made. Camping is a lot of work. Period. But, with the right people, it is also a lot of fun!
The three of us were sort of having fun. We were learning, which is really all I can say.
The kid's initial meltdown (loud and obnoxious) mellowed into a resigned curiosity. He asked about going home a couple of times that first night. I didn't blame him. After all that fuss, I wanted to go home too. I felt so bad for my boyfriend who had basically had to set up our tent by himself, while I managed the spazzed-out little human. I tried to make it up to him much later that evening, but I don't think he'll ever understand how much I appreciated his hard work.
The next day was stormy: literally and figuratively.
We were experiencing a pretty forceful spring storm, which ended up lasting a solid half of the day, though it was an off-and-on kind of thing. The guys tied up tarps so that we would have shelter outside of the tents. We gathered our camping chairs close together and talked about how big the raindrops were.
My kid, who at the time was dealing with an Angry Bids obsession, was trying to overcome his disappointment (which was always loudly conveyed) at the lack of power supply to support his (my) technical devices. It was unfair to expect him to cold-turkey off the game, so I would charge the phone using the car-jack every now-and-then handing over the distraction at opportune times - hating myself for giving in to the easy-way-out; knowing that I should have just let him out-think his boredom.
We enjoyed a bit of rock crawling that day. My nerves were high, not really knowing if the kid would enjoy the bumpy ride or not. I was on edge the entire time, on alert for when he suddenly decided he'd had enough. It didn't come. For some of the extreme bumps, he'd look to me for assurance that this was indeed "fun" and that we weren't in danger. Every single time I gave him a full smile to brush off his misgivings. The truth was the ride was one of the roughest I had ever been on, and we stayed out for a really long time. By the end of it, I was supremely low on any reserves and didn't have much patience when the kid started whining about not wanting to stop.
Back at camp, I headed straight to the tent, told him to lay down and about passed out. I didn't completely let go for sleep, because my mommy-sense was still on high. There was no one else to care for the kid - I didn't expect the boyfriend to do it since he was laying out on the air mattress beside me - and I didn't want to ask one of the other families. They were extended friends, and though I am sure they wouldn't have minded, I wasn't in the frame of mind to ask. I rested poorly. Eventually, I decided to get up, not being able to stand the fitful tossing anymore. The boyfriend was hardcore snoozed-out. I was envious. The kid was a-flutter with energy and I hoped it meant that he would sleep well that evening. I headed over to his part of the tent and inspected his pallet. My heart sank. Lake Superior was stealthily hiding underneath his sleeping bag. I assume that a zip seal wasn't closed properly on his side of the tent before the rain had started.
I was grumpy incarnate.
And spent the rest of the afternoon hauling his bedding outside of the tent and wriggling it out. Thank goodness one of the other guys had plenty of rope with him. He made a clothes line for me so that everything could be hung out to dry as much as possible before night fell.
I was exhausted; and concerned.
I didn't expect the bedding to dry completely in time. I had some extra layers that could be used, but it wouldn't be enough to keep the kid warm through the upcoming night. Night fell too soon, in my opinion, and I did the best I could. I pulled blankets from the air mattress that I was sharing with the boyfriend and covered my kid as best as his squirmy self would allow. I knew that he would need the extra layers, sleeping by himself and with a cooler night setting in after the stormy day.
Pain crept up on me that night. The cool-moist air was setting into my sore muscles and joints, which were already aching from a long day on the trails. I snuggled close to my boyfriend's body. I had reserved two of the thinner blankets for our bed, knowing that we would have the benefit of body heat to see us through the night.
I woke up in the middle of the night and had to use the restroom. The boyfriend needed to grab an extra layer from his baggage and rustled around a bit with the flashlight on. The kid was sleeping poorly, moaning as he moved again to get comfortable. I got up and inspected his pallet. It was cold and slightly damp, mostly due to the fact that the sleeping bag hadn't completely dried out. I adjusted the covers to make the most of what was dry and laid down close to the child to warm him.
Let's be honest, it occurred to me that I should stay with him and see the rest of the night through keeping him warm. But I was hurting and couldn't even imagine what kind of pain I would be dealing with in the morning air, were I to spend the night on the ground. I left him after a bit and made my way back to the air mattress, beside my boyfriend's warm body.
"How is he?"
"I thought you were asleep. I was trying to be quiet," I answered sofly.
"How is he," he asked me again.
"He's awake and trying to get comfortable. He's cold, but I laid down with him for a little bit to warm him up. The sleep bag is still a little damp, which doesn't help; but I adjusted the blankets as much as possible to keep his dry."
"Do you want him to come sleep with us," he whispered the question to me, his concern for the child's condition unmasked.
I raised my head a little in order to get a better view of his face in the semi-dark and said flatly, "We will not get any sleep. Do you understand that? He'll be too excited and we'll be miserable in the morning."
Had it been light enough, he probably would have seen that dead-cold stare in my eyes that people tell me I have an uncanny way of delivering. I needed him to be sure of this decision. My heart was flip-flopping. I knew this was the right solution, but I hadn't been able to bring myself to ask him to deal with the responsibility of it with me; to play care-giver (i.e. daddy) for the night and put himself out for the good of the little human being in my charge.
"Well, at least he won't be cold."
My heart swelled. I called the kid to come to bed. I told him to bring a blanket. I was adjusting closer to my boyfriend so that I could be between them, trying to provide a buffer for him from the little boy antics we were inviting to our bed.
"He'll get warmer faster in between us."
I knew that; and I didn't have any energy left to argue my point. I had to trust that this guy wasn't offering this sacrifice without understanding that there would be consequences; or at least, I would deal with the outcome, his possible lack of understanding, in the morning. I told my little man to crawl over me to the middle of the bed; he obliged with a little too much energy for my taste. He snuggled in, reaching his arms out to touch the two adults that encased his body and sighed deeply. I soothingly encouraged him to settle down and he curled into his pillow. He was blissfully happy and getting warmer by the second.
I looked over my son's head into the darkness towards my boyfriend's face. I reached over and rested my hand on his chest, just over his heart, and offered an emotionally-rich, "Thank you."
What I really meant was, "I love you."
And, sleep came; the morning light, when it woke me up, was a little aged, and I quietly thanked the heavens that we had been able to truly sleep and get some rest. I looked over towards my boys, two of my favorite people, and saw that they still slept.
I giggled. The boyfriend had protected his face space with a pillow at some point in the night. Smart guy; I knew there were some obvious reasons for why I liked him so much.
Let me clarify.
It was the first time I went on a camping trip with my new boyfriend. We had started dating the month before and things were going well. He was easy to get along with and, although we were concerned about long term compatibility, we were mostly content to enjoy the moment. He didn't seem to mind dealing with the fact that I was a single mom and applauded me for my efforts in investing in my child's development. He was nice to my kid, which is really the extent to which a girl in my position can ask for without crossing a line. This guy took really good care of me, something that I had been missing in a life partner for a while up until this point, so I was lapping him up; trying my best not to be over-gluttonous (clearly, I wasn't ashamed of a little gluttony).
And, it was the first time I was taking my kid, who lives with moderate autism, camping. The kid's atypical sensory processing is hard to judge and is more than a little exhausting when it's off kilter more than usual, which is all dependent on his ability to cope...or not (which, in itself, is dependent on things like rest, health, eating right, clothing fabrics/tags, potty issues, new environments, routines...you get the point). I've committed to making sure that he experiences as much as he can, as much as I am able to manage as his mom. That's really the crux of it: I have to have a pretty decent inner reserve in order to help him manage and cope through new sensory experiences. I do the best I can as a single career-professional. I am by no means perfect, but I give it my best shot.
Thank goodness for a good group of camping friends!
The choice to haul a bunch of stuff into the middle of the woods and "set up house" is not one easily made. Camping is a lot of work. Period. But, with the right people, it is also a lot of fun!
The three of us were sort of having fun. We were learning, which is really all I can say.
The kid's initial meltdown (loud and obnoxious) mellowed into a resigned curiosity. He asked about going home a couple of times that first night. I didn't blame him. After all that fuss, I wanted to go home too. I felt so bad for my boyfriend who had basically had to set up our tent by himself, while I managed the spazzed-out little human. I tried to make it up to him much later that evening, but I don't think he'll ever understand how much I appreciated his hard work.
The next day was stormy: literally and figuratively.
We were experiencing a pretty forceful spring storm, which ended up lasting a solid half of the day, though it was an off-and-on kind of thing. The guys tied up tarps so that we would have shelter outside of the tents. We gathered our camping chairs close together and talked about how big the raindrops were.
My kid, who at the time was dealing with an Angry Bids obsession, was trying to overcome his disappointment (which was always loudly conveyed) at the lack of power supply to support his (my) technical devices. It was unfair to expect him to cold-turkey off the game, so I would charge the phone using the car-jack every now-and-then handing over the distraction at opportune times - hating myself for giving in to the easy-way-out; knowing that I should have just let him out-think his boredom.
We enjoyed a bit of rock crawling that day. My nerves were high, not really knowing if the kid would enjoy the bumpy ride or not. I was on edge the entire time, on alert for when he suddenly decided he'd had enough. It didn't come. For some of the extreme bumps, he'd look to me for assurance that this was indeed "fun" and that we weren't in danger. Every single time I gave him a full smile to brush off his misgivings. The truth was the ride was one of the roughest I had ever been on, and we stayed out for a really long time. By the end of it, I was supremely low on any reserves and didn't have much patience when the kid started whining about not wanting to stop.
Back at camp, I headed straight to the tent, told him to lay down and about passed out. I didn't completely let go for sleep, because my mommy-sense was still on high. There was no one else to care for the kid - I didn't expect the boyfriend to do it since he was laying out on the air mattress beside me - and I didn't want to ask one of the other families. They were extended friends, and though I am sure they wouldn't have minded, I wasn't in the frame of mind to ask. I rested poorly. Eventually, I decided to get up, not being able to stand the fitful tossing anymore. The boyfriend was hardcore snoozed-out. I was envious. The kid was a-flutter with energy and I hoped it meant that he would sleep well that evening. I headed over to his part of the tent and inspected his pallet. My heart sank. Lake Superior was stealthily hiding underneath his sleeping bag. I assume that a zip seal wasn't closed properly on his side of the tent before the rain had started.
I was grumpy incarnate.
And spent the rest of the afternoon hauling his bedding outside of the tent and wriggling it out. Thank goodness one of the other guys had plenty of rope with him. He made a clothes line for me so that everything could be hung out to dry as much as possible before night fell.
I was exhausted; and concerned.
I didn't expect the bedding to dry completely in time. I had some extra layers that could be used, but it wouldn't be enough to keep the kid warm through the upcoming night. Night fell too soon, in my opinion, and I did the best I could. I pulled blankets from the air mattress that I was sharing with the boyfriend and covered my kid as best as his squirmy self would allow. I knew that he would need the extra layers, sleeping by himself and with a cooler night setting in after the stormy day.
Pain crept up on me that night. The cool-moist air was setting into my sore muscles and joints, which were already aching from a long day on the trails. I snuggled close to my boyfriend's body. I had reserved two of the thinner blankets for our bed, knowing that we would have the benefit of body heat to see us through the night.
I woke up in the middle of the night and had to use the restroom. The boyfriend needed to grab an extra layer from his baggage and rustled around a bit with the flashlight on. The kid was sleeping poorly, moaning as he moved again to get comfortable. I got up and inspected his pallet. It was cold and slightly damp, mostly due to the fact that the sleeping bag hadn't completely dried out. I adjusted the covers to make the most of what was dry and laid down close to the child to warm him.
Let's be honest, it occurred to me that I should stay with him and see the rest of the night through keeping him warm. But I was hurting and couldn't even imagine what kind of pain I would be dealing with in the morning air, were I to spend the night on the ground. I left him after a bit and made my way back to the air mattress, beside my boyfriend's warm body.
"How is he?"
"I thought you were asleep. I was trying to be quiet," I answered sofly.
"How is he," he asked me again.
"He's awake and trying to get comfortable. He's cold, but I laid down with him for a little bit to warm him up. The sleep bag is still a little damp, which doesn't help; but I adjusted the blankets as much as possible to keep his dry."
"Do you want him to come sleep with us," he whispered the question to me, his concern for the child's condition unmasked.
I raised my head a little in order to get a better view of his face in the semi-dark and said flatly, "We will not get any sleep. Do you understand that? He'll be too excited and we'll be miserable in the morning."
Had it been light enough, he probably would have seen that dead-cold stare in my eyes that people tell me I have an uncanny way of delivering. I needed him to be sure of this decision. My heart was flip-flopping. I knew this was the right solution, but I hadn't been able to bring myself to ask him to deal with the responsibility of it with me; to play care-giver (i.e. daddy) for the night and put himself out for the good of the little human being in my charge.
"Well, at least he won't be cold."
My heart swelled. I called the kid to come to bed. I told him to bring a blanket. I was adjusting closer to my boyfriend so that I could be between them, trying to provide a buffer for him from the little boy antics we were inviting to our bed.
"He'll get warmer faster in between us."
I knew that; and I didn't have any energy left to argue my point. I had to trust that this guy wasn't offering this sacrifice without understanding that there would be consequences; or at least, I would deal with the outcome, his possible lack of understanding, in the morning. I told my little man to crawl over me to the middle of the bed; he obliged with a little too much energy for my taste. He snuggled in, reaching his arms out to touch the two adults that encased his body and sighed deeply. I soothingly encouraged him to settle down and he curled into his pillow. He was blissfully happy and getting warmer by the second.
I looked over my son's head into the darkness towards my boyfriend's face. I reached over and rested my hand on his chest, just over his heart, and offered an emotionally-rich, "Thank you."
What I really meant was, "I love you."
And, sleep came; the morning light, when it woke me up, was a little aged, and I quietly thanked the heavens that we had been able to truly sleep and get some rest. I looked over towards my boys, two of my favorite people, and saw that they still slept.
I giggled. The boyfriend had protected his face space with a pillow at some point in the night. Smart guy; I knew there were some obvious reasons for why I liked him so much.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
the beauty of ripeness
I am awed by this picture. It seems simple enough. A tomato plant with varying stages of ripeness portrayed. And yet, it is the ripeness, the redness that awes me.
This is my first year tending tomato plants. I was late in the joining in the gardening community and restricted with how deeply I could commit. I live in an apartment complex with only a small patio to claim for growing space. I found 3 tiny plants at Walmart for 50 cents each - I figured I wouldn't be over extending myself if the investment to tend didn't pan out. I had 3 medium-to-large sized pots and planted them with an inexperienced, still-hopeful thumb who wished to be green.
It was a very matter-of-fact attitude with which I told the plants, "You have soil. You'll have full sun each afternoon. And I will try to remember to water you as much as possible. If you are going to grow, have at it. If you don't, I don't blame you."
And they grew. I was amazed.
I purchased a wire frame so that they would feel supported as they grew taller.
I about jigged around the patio when I realized buds were giving way to actual fruit. Little pea-sized tomatoes were sprouting at different levels of the three plants. I considered it miraculous, since I wasn't a good tender; meaning, I wasn't consistent with the water they so needed to combat the full-sun afternoons.
And yet, they grew.
Bulbous spheres of would-be juicy fruit plumped-out in front of my eyes. I was delighted and proud. And thankful.
Green started turning to yellow. My mouth watered with anticipation.
And then, a storm popped out of nowhere. This storm was strong, the winds raging. In fact, it produced a tornado only a few miles away from my apartment complex. I wasn't prepared. Had no idea that it was coming. Didn't know to protect my growing plants from the violence about to ensue. A hail beating came first. Then winds so hard that they rocked the plants back and forth until they toppled over, slamming the growing vines and fruit to the cement patio. I saw this unfold, knowing it wasn't safe to go out into the storm, but feeling so sad for something that I had been caring for, had been tending towards growth being dealt hard, hard blows of nature's reality.
After the storm, I inspected the plants and turned them right-side up. Three of the tomatoes had disconnected from the plant and were brought tenderly inside to continue ripening on my counter.
The others looked intact and I asked them to be okay.
"Boy, that was tough. I hope that you are going to be okay. I mean, I understand if you feel set back and need to recalibrate or something before growing again; but know that I would really appreciate your continued growth. I thought you guys were doing so well."
A few mornings later, during a routine inspection of the plants, I saw this beautiful sight and my heart welled with pride. This little tomato, my first really red one, was proudly coming to terms with its growth cycle and would be ready to eat at any moment. I saved it's picking until later in the day, just before dinner. I figured one more morning and afternoon of sunlight would be a perfect end to its story of becoming ripe.
------
I couldn't help but appreciate how many of us are like this little tomato. Doggedly honoring the growth cycle, no matter what trials come along, in order to reach our full potential of ripeness.
I can't help but be proud of us all.
Friday, September 2, 2011
reason and logic be damned
The magnetism was intense.
She couldn’t deny its existence as they grew to know each
other more and more. It pulled at her anytime he was close. It was like the
smell of baking cookies: tantalizing and mouthwatering with the promise of
sweetness.
Knowing that he was near warmed her. She felt washed in
yet-unknown nostalgia; you could say comfort, which made her feel inexplicably
safe and accepted. What bothered her was not being able to understand why.
There was no history between them, no relationship beyond that of friendly
acquaintance.
But, as she made the occasion to spend more and more time
with him, the pull was stronger, harder to ignore.
On the first night they ventured into the friendly space,
sharing time just getting to know each other over a few drinks, she felt this
barely-escapable need to grab his face and kiss the breath out of him. The
desire to touch him made her fingers tingle with want.
And, then, there was a weekend away. It was particularly
difficult because they were together as friends with two other couples. It made
the situation perfect for falling into each other and exploring the essence of
shared space. There was a moment of enlightenment for her: they worked really
well with each other. Their souls met and connected on the same living plane.
Being was easy, happier.
She noted all these things as they prepared and shared meals
together, working towards a common goal in the kitchen. She observed as he made
2 perfect cups of coffee and invited her to the porch swing for several moments
of appreciating the cool night air, the rain and the pressure of their bodies
sitting close together. She was awed at the absolute-happy intonation of their
shared periodic sighs. It was as if something deep within them had found
contentment, a soul-satisfying contentment that ignores all arguments of reason
or logic.
The next morning, through the pouring-down rain, there was a
silent parallel-reality tryst; silent except for the heavy intakes of breaths
and soul-cleansing exhales. Ties of deeper connection were double knotted in
some alternate universe in front of the others as they spent an innocent
morning talking over nothing in particular.
Her life was sucked into a deep state of want: intense want
over this soul that had been in front of her for over a year. The wanting
expanded to all layers of her existence. She wanted him all to herself, for
shared hours of deep breathing and pressed bodies. She wanted him to be happy
and asked him what it would take; and encouraged him to be himself, because the
him that she saw was delightful, intense, intoxicating, and she was sad to learn
that he didn’t realize the whole of it yet.
Their first kiss happened shortly after the weekend trip. It
was a night of ignoring reason, of sharing wine and talk, of teasing the fire
of passion until it was too much to contain. Laying down on the couch together,
he had rubbed her face gently with his thumb and titled her head just so before
pressing his lips against hers. She exploded. Her mind was mush. The want of
it, the want of him; the want of more, of as much as she could hold, completely
possessed her. She found a new default existence and was happy to find him
there to share it.
Beyond happy, she was blissed-out.
The magnetism was intense; is intense.
She remembers that first kiss and tingles still shoot
through her body. She thinks about the kisses that have followed and pure joy floods
her sense of being. She wants more kisses now and finds that the want leaves
her breathless and soul-lonely.
They fostered the connection for a short time. It made them
full and happy. There was a new-found realization of togetherness, of
partnership that their base-level shared-essence understood and accepted as
perfectly normally, finally right.
Their reason and logic scoffed and made spectacle of all the arguments proving their companionship doomed. The new, young shared-ness was no
match for practiced cynicism.
Reason and logic won.
It is the saddest thing, she thinks.
Their personalities battled the case of differences, of
extreme differences. They stomped and raged the particulars; and their minds
conceded. Wills were soon to follow.
They cried over it, at first together.
Now, she cries alone; damning reason and logic to the
hell-holes in which they belong for destroying such a beautiful, organic
co-existence.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
read the headlines
We fall in love, choose to love, commit to love and get married.
And for many, the assumption is that love will stay the same. Time passes and growth happens; but dang it, this love will always be here, supporting us to carry us through anything that life brings.
But love is based on connection and connection is based on....what?
I think that to a certain extent, connection is ethereal link to someone else. It is hard to explain why we meet certain people on certain planes. Connection, and the associated attraction, is so much deeper than just sexuality; it is a brass tacks kind of understanding between people at a certain level...not necessarily all levels.
People marry. People change.
At least, we hope so, right?
An individual should continue towards growth, continue to learn from the world around them. Their life experiences outside of the marriage connection will effect change in their default character and personality, in their thought processes. It may be dramatic; but it could also be subtle. Either way, the hope is that we are dynamic characters in our own life story.
These changes may affect the "feeling" of love, but hopefully, not the commitment to love.
It occurs to me that change is inevitable, though we gripe and complain...maybe even resist.
It also occurs to me that the best way to foster the marriage connection through the time that passes and ages us is to consistently visit the brass tacks connection with our partner. If you can't be honest and vulnerable with your person about who you are and how you're changing....if you can't trust them enough with your base level humanity, why would you make vows and promise to spend your life with them?
Revisit the brass tacks: talk, share, dust-off the connection.
You can't be on the same page with someone unless you are willing to read the headlines as they appear on the news stand.
------
And I believe the responsibility to share as well as the act of asking for sharing stands directly on the doorstep of both hearts within the marriage connection. The union of two souls requires give and take on so many levels, this being one of the most important of them all.
And for many, the assumption is that love will stay the same. Time passes and growth happens; but dang it, this love will always be here, supporting us to carry us through anything that life brings.
But love is based on connection and connection is based on....what?
I think that to a certain extent, connection is ethereal link to someone else. It is hard to explain why we meet certain people on certain planes. Connection, and the associated attraction, is so much deeper than just sexuality; it is a brass tacks kind of understanding between people at a certain level...not necessarily all levels.
People marry. People change.
At least, we hope so, right?
An individual should continue towards growth, continue to learn from the world around them. Their life experiences outside of the marriage connection will effect change in their default character and personality, in their thought processes. It may be dramatic; but it could also be subtle. Either way, the hope is that we are dynamic characters in our own life story.
These changes may affect the "feeling" of love, but hopefully, not the commitment to love.
It occurs to me that change is inevitable, though we gripe and complain...maybe even resist.
It also occurs to me that the best way to foster the marriage connection through the time that passes and ages us is to consistently visit the brass tacks connection with our partner. If you can't be honest and vulnerable with your person about who you are and how you're changing....if you can't trust them enough with your base level humanity, why would you make vows and promise to spend your life with them?
Revisit the brass tacks: talk, share, dust-off the connection.
You can't be on the same page with someone unless you are willing to read the headlines as they appear on the news stand.
------
And I believe the responsibility to share as well as the act of asking for sharing stands directly on the doorstep of both hearts within the marriage connection. The union of two souls requires give and take on so many levels, this being one of the most important of them all.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
my personal food chain experience
There is something lovely about being able to be a part of the "circle of life." I guess I could also say the food chain, in this particular instance.
I had the pleasant surprise while traveling this past weekend to come upon a laden apple tree. This medium sized tree was full, nine-months-pregnant-kind-of-full, with apples. They were small and medium, mostly green...there were a couple of red-shaded ones. And there were a ton (A TON) of them ready for picking. And so, I did.
I didn't really have any idea what I would do with them. I mean, sure, I cook. I love to. But I didn't really think that I would have much success. After gathering all the ready-apples and lugging them to the car, I knew that responsibility was knocking at my door. I mean, there are people all over the world who are hungry and would love to have such a treasure in their bellies.
And I definitely considered this treasure. Free goodies found, almost literally, at the front door step. I mean, what is a girl to do?!
Reasearch.
With so much plenty, I decided to tackle the masses and make applesauce. I pulled up a basic recipe (thanks, Sarah) and modified it to my needs. I like applesauce as much at the next 30 year old, which means...mostly as a side with my potato pancakes; and my little man of 6 years likes it well enough; but there were still a TON of apples left (meaning more sauce to come), so I knew I had to take it a step further. I looked up a basic recipe for muffins and modified it..which means that changed it almost completely since I added applesauce instead of milk and used Bread Flour because I had no All Purpose in the house.
And, voila!
In reality, they were only posing as muffins. The combination of ingredients lent the actual hand-to-mouth experience to more of a "baked applesauce pudding-type hot pocket." In other words, yummy-goodness.
I am thankful for this personal food chain experience.
I am so happy to have come upon that sweet little tree ready to share its tart, crisp apples with me; and with all of those that will benefit from my cooking.
I cannot wait to visit said tree again...there were still plenty of apples still waiting for their due date.
I had the pleasant surprise while traveling this past weekend to come upon a laden apple tree. This medium sized tree was full, nine-months-pregnant-kind-of-full, with apples. They were small and medium, mostly green...there were a couple of red-shaded ones. And there were a ton (A TON) of them ready for picking. And so, I did.
I didn't really have any idea what I would do with them. I mean, sure, I cook. I love to. But I didn't really think that I would have much success. After gathering all the ready-apples and lugging them to the car, I knew that responsibility was knocking at my door. I mean, there are people all over the world who are hungry and would love to have such a treasure in their bellies.
And I definitely considered this treasure. Free goodies found, almost literally, at the front door step. I mean, what is a girl to do?!
Reasearch.
With so much plenty, I decided to tackle the masses and make applesauce. I pulled up a basic recipe (thanks, Sarah) and modified it to my needs. I like applesauce as much at the next 30 year old, which means...mostly as a side with my potato pancakes; and my little man of 6 years likes it well enough; but there were still a TON of apples left (meaning more sauce to come), so I knew I had to take it a step further. I looked up a basic recipe for muffins and modified it..which means that changed it almost completely since I added applesauce instead of milk and used Bread Flour because I had no All Purpose in the house.
And, voila!
In reality, they were only posing as muffins. The combination of ingredients lent the actual hand-to-mouth experience to more of a "baked applesauce pudding-type hot pocket." In other words, yummy-goodness.
I am thankful for this personal food chain experience.
I am so happy to have come upon that sweet little tree ready to share its tart, crisp apples with me; and with all of those that will benefit from my cooking.
I cannot wait to visit said tree again...there were still plenty of apples still waiting for their due date.
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