ya know what's really funny? a grown-up who is really angry and starts swatting and kicking at the air around them. i love that shit. i totally get it, being so angry you must move it to a physical level, but it's really really funny when you see someone else act it out. especially if you get extra lucky and said grown-up in the middle of a cartoonish rage fit smacks an appendage on something whilst swatting frantically at the dead air. my favorite is if they smack their elbow or their shin, because those spots seem the most tender and then they hop around full of exaggerated pain that is actually a mere carryover from their original anger. if i could hide in the bushes and watch one of these episodes on a regular basis i would be happy as a clam. i would much prefer this sort of humorous voyeurism to most crap on tv these days. not sure why it tickles me so much, maybe because it is human beings being raw and letting go of the control over themselves. we truly are collectively a ridiculous species. we are so much like the characters in the funny papers, and truth really is stranger than fiction.

rabbit hole

let me preface this by saying that i am NOT a fan of "alice in wonderland". it scares the bejesus out me. a little blond girl falls down a rabbit's hole (hello, rife with subtext) and ends up in a psychedelic land filled with unsavory characters such as: passive aggressive cats, talking plants, evil queens, etc... hits a little too close to home if you know what i'm sayin'. my social worker brain goes immediately to the place of wondering why no one in this child's real life has noticed that she is completely dissociated. the whole thing is very alarming.

that said, i can most certainly relate to walking along and feeling like your life was pulled out from under you and all of the sudden you are falling into a parallel universe that you never thought would be your reality. we like to philosophize that this is life leading us down a new path, or taking us on an unexpected journey, or blah blah blah. although this annoying shit may true, it feels more like you have just fallen into some unforeseen gaping hole in the earths floor; and goddammit, it sucks. despite the fact that it sucks, it seems an inevitable part of life. once you start falling there is no way to stop yourself, often i try to grab the earth as i plummet. it seems all this accomplishes is to widen the hole by crumbly even more of the fragile soil and roots in my desperate hands. alas we land, somewhere. god only knows where, or when, as the fall can last anywhere from a moment to a lifetime. once we hit the bottom, and our bones rattle on impact, we can begin to shake our heads and take in our surroundings. trying to get our bearings as to where we are, and how we got there. being someone who likes to know the whys and hows for every turn in life i tend to sit at the bottom of this proverbial rabbit's hole for longer than is maybe productive and fixate on why the hole was there in the first place, and why i fell into it. once i feel i have an understanding of the hows and whys i can really look around at what's in front of me. my next step is usually to take a long nap. seriously, falling down that unexpected hole is exhausting, figuring out why i fell in the first place, even more so.

so, now i'm napping, and in a cruel twist my vivid dreams are all centered around the fall, reasons for it, and what will come next. my dreams tend to play out worst case scenarios, which as you might suspect, doesn't provide the restful sleep and rejuvenation i need for the journey ahead. now i'm tired, weary, and fearful that my dreams may be a foretelling of what's to come; but what choice do i have except to get up and start moving in one direction or another. i have found that this nightmarish psychedelic land at the bottom of this asshole rabbit's careless crevasse has poor signage and rarely (if ever) a visitors center to help me get started. so, i'm walking, grumbling and swearing under my breath, in some random direction looking for any clue that could lead me to the surface again. are cartoonish foliage and lispy talking animals who make little or no sense helpful to me at this point? no, no they are not. i'm looking for a straight shooter who has my best interests at heart. in other words i'm looking for my therapist. it would be a lot easier to find her when i need her if i could get some cell reception down in this godforsaken hell (rabbit) hole. goddamn t-mobile.

no thank you pasty faced royal court, i do not want to play your silly games full of covert meaning, i would however like it very much if ANYONE could point me towards the sun, my vitamin D is dwindling fast down here; and by the by where can a girl get a snack or some chai? this is when i know i'm getting my sense of humor back, always a good sign. i like to use dry humor and sarcasm with the abusive characters down there, i don't think they get it and i know it pisses them off. which makes me a happy. i suppose one could argue that if i would play their games and learn the lessons the way they want me too maybe i would get back home more quickly. but you see, it's never been my personal belief that getting back is the goal. getting to a new place yes, getting back to where i fell in the hole in the first place? not so much. i find it's best to accept the truth that once you have fallen down this maddening hole, whether it's because of your actions or those of someone else in your life, change is the only way to avoid the same hole again in the future. it's best to abandon the thoughts of "home" you once cherished and open your mind and heart to the fact that home, as you knew it, no longer sparkles and shines the way it once did, and the patina that has taken the place of the shimmer cannot be scrubbed off with any amount of effort or tarnex.

so i trudge on settling into this new (and hopefully temporary)reality while trying to avoid the spazzy characters that seek to distract me from walking through. i pass the flamboyant and bossy talking flowers without acknowledgement, and i swat the annoying white haired hummingbird away from me with an extra flick of my wrist to ensure she is knocked on her arse and will not be circling my head with her ear piercing drivel again.

(ooh, look! there's a starbucks *of course* things are looking up!) grande-nonfat-no-foam-chai in hand my step quickens a little, and i start to notice that things are beginning to look less distorted and cartoonish. i am beginning to feel my feet underneath me in a real way, solid on this spongy terrain. the cloudiness in my head begins to clear and my thoughts become hopeful and pragmatic, even small smatterings of excitement creep in knowing that once i find out where home is now it will be better than it was before. that this hellish time will all have been worth it because when i resurface and take that deep breath in the wide open air of my new home i will smile, and it will be real.

poor baby.

if this blog were my child i would owe her a lot of money for therapy due to severe neglect. lo siento sweet girl, i will try and be more attentive from here on out.

i've been mulling over the adage "actions speak louder than words" a lot lately. it is a standard that i not only believe, but hold myself and those in my life accountable to. there have been far too many times when i could look at someone who was talking to me, and i could see right through what they were saying. their words ringing hollow and lifeless, their actions (or lack thereof) screaming in contradiction. it makes my stomach turn and my skin crawl, i have never been able to abide this violating form of lying in my life.

some might say my expectations are too high, i would challenge this notion by clarifying that i don't expect flawless actions from anyone (myself included); what i do hope for in others is the courage to be honest and challenging with themselves when faced with dilemma, confusion, and the simple choices of the day. i don't think this is too much for us, as fellow members of the world community, to ask of each other. what is so bad about saying, "i'm confused about ______, and i feel myself veering away from living a life that meshes with my values and integrity, i need to get some help."? (even if you say it to yourself in your own head). AND THEN FOLLOWING THROUGH ON THESE WORDS BY *gasp* TAKING SOME ACTION TO CHANGE YOUR COURSE. it's not rocket science people. we are all human, we all fuck up in large and small ways.

recently someone added to my adage (say that 10 times fast!) with "...and results speak louder than actions". (hi adam!) i don't agree. i think results can vary, and not necessarily reflect ones efforts. i know there have been many times in my life where i can look and say that did everything correctly on paper. i dotted every i, crossed every t, and followed the rules laid out for me; in other words i took all of the right actions while making my intent clear and purposeful. yet still i didn't get the results that matched my actions. in these circumstances i think there lies a perfect opportunity to practice what i'm preaching here. i could be bitter, jaded, and blaming of others that my strong efforts didn't pay off, or i could let go of the things over which i have no control, and look forward to how i will handle my actions and reactions to these events. self- analyze, breathe, and reboot. additionally i think it is a slippery slope if one gets too tied to results. i believe it is the effort, the sheer act of acting on ones beliefs, convictions, or values that speaks to someone's honor and intentions; not so much what comes of said actions (although, aren't positive results awesome when they come together?!). i would go even a little further and say that being too tied to results can set one up for becoming a words-without-actions-asshole because not getting what we want is a perfect excuse to stop doing and start whining.

*to be clear, my friend adam is not an actionless asshole, quite the opposite actually. he's a good egg, but i still disagree with his black and white boy brain. in other words, no adams were harmed in the writing of this blog ( i hope). :-)*

there is a subtle place in human beings that i believe is a major contributor to defining our character: it is the place where we decide to own our behavior, and do our work; or excuse away our behavior onto others, and deny the issue that is a blinding red light in our face. notice that neither of these options include not fucking up in the first place, it is assumed that we all do/ will continue to, so go ahead and fuck up i say! have at it. be the flawed human that you are, and then look at what happened, evaluate how it made you (and others) feel, and decide in an honest and real way what you are going to DO to rectify the situation at hand, and ensure that your next mistake (and there will be one) is something new and different to deal with. no one likes a broken record, especially if it's skipping on on a horrid song.

always on my mind...

my dad's side of the family used to get together often for what we called "jam sessions". the whole lot of them were musicians masquerading during the day as lawn mower repair men, office workers, door to door salesmen, housewives, etc... when it was time for a jam session, dad was on drums and vocals, aunt mimi played the accordovox (known to the rest of the world as the accordion), and uncle dickie was the standard on the guitar. depending on who showed up there might be random others sitting in. everyone would drink a lot, eat a lot, and drink more. the hallmark for me to know the night was a success was when my great uncles would start calling me "grandma lee" and giving me 2 dollar bills. i have A LOT of 2 dollar bills to this day.

they would play a variety of music, mostly old country. a variety of toasts and tributes would be given in slurred speech and the kids would eventually find somewhere to fall asleep when the sun was coming up.

one of my dad's favorites to play was willie nelson's 'always on my mind'. so slow and sad it would help everyone tap right into their trauma, which there is never a shortage of in my family. getting to that place of despair was always the ultimate goal.

tonight, a random tuesday late at night, i am up watching bad tv; and what do i hear but willie's weathered voice singing 'always on my mind'. it's a commercial for the ASPCA, making a plea for people to help pets who have to "fear the ones that are supposed to care for them". they show pictures of various broken spirited dogs and cats in shelters, and i can't help but wonder where our commercial was. in fact, where is it today? where is the public advertisement that asks the public to financially support rescuing the abused and neglected kids in our society? there are over 700,000 kids in foster care in this country, and yet you rarely hear about it. these are kids who have suffered severe trauma; who are floating on a sea of uncertainty in unfamiliar and often unsafe environments. if they were literally floating on a wrecked barge off of one of our coast lines, these little children who need our help, would we just ignore them? i hope not. so why do we now? why don't we look at our neighbors, and examine our communities policies on caring for children? why are there people injecting themselves with known cancer causing fertility treatments when there are 700+ kids in minnesota alone who are LITERALLY waiting for adoption. FREE adoption. i don't understand this? i don't think i ever could. (which by the way, i am thankful for.)

if you find yourself filling your mind with "buts" right about now than you need to seriously reexamine your perspective. for example: "but those kids all have serious special needs, and i could never do that". or "but i need to have a child 'of my own'." (my personal FAVORITE). if you want a perfect child that needs no special considerations than you should forget about being a parent at all. EVERY kid has special needs. EVERY kid has challenges. guess what? so does every adult. i defy anyone to walk up to me, look me in the eye, and tell me that my children are not my "own". in fact, i double dog dare you. nothing has ever been more of me or from me than my amazing girls. i'm not some saint who just a has a big heart for 'this kind of thing' (something else we hear a lot). we are just regular average people with the capacity to love. we fuck up every day, and we love our kids. they will never know what it is to have to wander off somewhere in an unfamiliar house and try to find a safe place to crash because they don't know where their parents are... at least not on my watch.

long story short (or not), go ahead and adopt a rescue pet, and consider rescuing a child while you're at it.

inching along...

much like myself, time is inching along at an achingly slow pace towards our final moving date. it seems d. has been gone an eternity, and that our arrival in ithaca should be close at hand. this is not the reality. we are a mere 25% through this separation. this will be one of those times in our family history that we look back to and marvel at how we did it. because it will be done, it will happen, it is happening currently.

it feels very distinctly like i am in a body of water with a calm surface, and an incredibly strong undertow. time is simultaneously moving at lightening speed, and a snails pace. the emotional gestation cannot be rushed, yet I WANT THIS BABY OUT! it is an exhausting limbo this in between place.

what i wish for when i get to ithaca, and the truck is unloaded, and the troops are fed, and my road warrior angels have flown back to their homes, and my family is exhaling, what I WANT is to take a long slow walk at six mile rec, and swim in one of the swimming holes. feeling deeply that feeling of diving underwater and surfacing cool and new. going home tired and smiling i will open a local bottle of wine, sit on my patio, and maybe (just maybe) allow one tear of happiness to escape my weathered eyes as i exhale into contentment... it will be then that i have made it home.

mother schmother

so i wasn't one of those blessed with a woman who gave birth to me AND then proceeded to raise me with patience and nurturing... i think they're called "mothers". what i was blessed with was a kick-ass therapist. that may seem an unequal comparison, but you've never met my therapist. you see, i first met her when i was a 14 year old on the brink of total oblivion; and she saw me. she was maybe the first one to look AT me and SEE all of me; and she liked me. still does, in fact. she has been my advocate, witness, savior, teacher, lifeline, and ultimately... the closest thing to a mother that i have ever had. she is protective and knowledgeable. she cares about my well-being, she laughs with me, she gets my dark humor, and she thinks i'm interesting. she sees me as in the process of this thing called life. she embraces me for where i'm at, and i truly believe i wouldn't be here without her. she is a powerful grounding force in my life. she supports my choices and challenges me when i need it. she is always available to me, and always happy to hear from me. what more could i ask for.

as for what i think of her...

i think she is smart, funny, honest, and wise. i think she has special gifts in her chosen career. she smells good, and offers tea and sweets to everyone. she has great shoes; and her outfits range from unique and fun to classic and tailored. she follows through on what she says, and she believes in the people she helps. she is my hero, the one i look up to the most, the one i aspire to be like. i trust her. what more is there than that?

by the way... did you know that a birthday party is a gathering of people that you genuinely like/love doing something that you all enjoy doing together? i just learned about that last year and thought i should pass on the word... :-)

overwhelm, shut-down, drink, stress, feel guilty, REPEAT DAILY...

mother of pearl i am struggling!! my lovely wifeband left to forge our path eastward a week ago. she has created a clear path with tenacious effort and dedication to our family. i, on the other hand, have been drowning in what is left behind. specifically single parenting 24/7, and being left to pack the remainder of our belongings before august 13th. some people are just able to tackle these sorts of challenges head on and do a little each day making it less overwhelming and daunting. i am not one of those people. when i get overwhelmed i get shut-down and i usually end up doing things that i don't need to do. for example, obsessively playing word games or puzzles on facebook. or playing dress-up with the children or sitting on the floor talking to my dogs for a LONG time. or talking on the phone (a lot!) or, or or or or or or or or or or or.......

so this is where i'm at. there's lots to do and my primary grounding force (wifesband) isn't here to ground me. couple that with how much i've already done and I AM FUCKING TIRED. the girls are fighting more than normal ("MMMOOOOOMMMMYYYY... izzy won't play with me!" is something i hear 20,000 times a day), i have a hormonal almost-10-year-old whose mood is swinging in rapid and unpredictable patterns, and my family of origin is emotionally sucker-punching me around every other corner. (fuckers).

enter: shut down. shut in is more like it. i just want to stay home until the moving truck comes and load up and go. it would be even better if i could hide under my covers (literally) until that happens. (yes, for those of you who don't understand what i'm talking about, i know this isn't an option). but it's what i want.

because i try to do my best to end on a positive note i will share what my blessings are right now. my children are healthy adventurous souls. my wifesband is gainfully employed in the town where we want to live; in addition we continue to be madly in love 11+ years later. i have some amazing friends who are really showing up for me right now. i have my dogs, who make it possible for me to go to sleep w/o d each night.

all this goodness, and it still feels so overwhelming to just get up and go pack something... anything. why is that?