Tag Archives: growing up

How could I forget?

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How could I forget?

How much I love(d) Sarah McLachlan… whilst listening a soul sucking mean social media music provider, this song came on: Drawn to the rhythm and afterward I fell in a rabbit hole. The second CD that I ever bought was ‘fumbling towards ecstasy’. I think I was 13 or 14 and I spent the next few months with it on repeat constantly. I really felt connected to the words/songs and thought that they meant one thing, and I suppose then it did. I listened to the entire album today. I found myself instantly reconnecting. It was like visiting an old friend, one that you held secrets with and wax nostalgic but realize how much you’ve both changed. You realize with age and hindsight your previous way of understanding things are no longer the reality. 

To you at least, everything has changed and you have a hard time remembering what made you love them before, because you didn’t even know then, the things that make you love them now. Ha. Perhaps this doesn’t make anymore sense in written form than it did outloud, but in my mind it was quite a profound thought to me. 

Which led me to the train of thought about sharing things with friends or people you consider to wise, as you respect and value what they think and say. I’ve been having some pretty big contemplations as I’m want to do, as soon as things slow down, become complacent, comfortable (usually during the winter). I started thinking about the people that I would talk to then, and now, and the differences in how I would make decisions based upon what they would say. For example, I need to make a couple big decisions in the very near future and if I asked ten of my “go to people” (ha, ten is a stretch of people I would talk to about things) and how I could anticipate the ten, very different opinions they would give. They would be based on who they are, what they know about me, what they know about the situations, where they are in their own moods, lives, development, maturity, what they could have to gain or lose based on the outcome of the decision, etc. etc. etc.

And like the lyrics and meanings of songs, it’s all up to the listener’s present, their parallels to draw, their position to filter through. 

So how does one make a decision about big things? Do you meditate? Ask your parent? What if that’s not an option? Peers? Siblings? Bosses? Therapist? TAROT for goddess’s sake? (Which again, is just like the lyrics… concrete definitions are applied to the words which communicate the meaning of the song but what is heard and inferred, well… that’s on the listener.)

Who knows. Maybe I just think too much. Just watch the lovely Sarah not trying to guilt you into gifting to the ASPCA. Isn’t she beautiful? Ughhh it kills me. 


I am….I am….I am….

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I am….I am….I am….

Every time I have ever doubted; every time I have ever wondered if what was happening or happened in my singular, seemingly meaningless life had a purpose and questioned every decision I make, I am reminded that it all works out.

It all has meaning.

It all is what it is.

I have recently made decisions that make me question myself in the wee hours of the night, was this the right choice, was that the right action, should I have said this, revealed this….

And the Universe responds with a resounding “YES.”

It’s nice.

I really, really like my job; despite it not being what I had envisioned doing.

In addition to really, really liking my new non-social work job; I really, really like my co-workers despite the apprehension I felt upon meeting them and the nervousness I felt just sitting next to them taking a 3 hour test.

There is nothing wrong with the fact that I get a long best with military, law enforcement, and/or firemen. They aren’t all the same. It’s true. It’s just who I get and who get me and who I seem to attract into my world… Which leads me to the next epiphany:

I like being alone, except when I don’t :)… In which case I have friends again that can fill that void willingly, without any sort of romantic enmeshment.

Speaking of that *Mercury retrograde aside* I can totally have male friends again without eventually thinking they are “the one.”

I AM THE ONE.

Ergo; I can live totally independently again/still, despite what I may have been led to believe by weaker others in recent years.

I kinda fucking kick ass. ‘Tis true.

I am the muthatrucking queen of making lemonade out of bitter ass lemons.

*The secret is in the vodka ūüėČ

Huzzah, muthatruckas.

‚ÄúI took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.‚Ä̬†
‚Äē¬†Sylvia Plath

Mother’s Day and my boychild.

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Mother’s Day and my boychild.

I have been lazy with my blog; graduate school and life have been somewhat overwhelmingly paralyzing as of late. So many things are changing in my world, internally and externally; it is hard to keep up sometimes. I know others feel this way, I think it is a consequence of the technological advances, speed of life and perhaps just the global adjustments to energy fluctuations. Who knows why, but it is what it is.

So I have been trying very conscientiously to stay in the moment and to reflect on my feelings and the reasons behind those feelings.

“The beginning of freedom is the realization that you are not the possessing entity, the thinker…” ~Eckhardt Tolle

I digress.

Ok, so maybe trying to stay in the moment and yet reflect are opposing concepts, to some extent, but I am trying. BACK OFF!

Hm. Really what keeps coming to mind this week is the fact that my boychild turns 15 on Monday.

HOLY CRAP.

I remember where I was on my 15th birthday. I had just gone “home” to visit. I was there with my best friend, her soon to be husband, our friend L whom I was supposed to be interested in (cause it would have been very convenient), my first love, and a few friends. My dad made me german chocolate cake. I have pictures. Maybe I will attach one. But to remember that day so clearly, what was going on, the things in my head that I was thinking, its all very surreal to imagine my child being that old and yet being so different from me. Or is he?

I remember going and changing my clothes because the boy I was madly in love with told me he liked me better in a different outfit. We weren’t together. But I did it. I changed my clothes. On my muthatrucking birthday.

I remember falling over in the garage while smoking and hitting my head so hard I blacked out for a few seconds; I was more concerned that people would think how clumsy I was, than whether I had a concussion. I probably did.

I had been living on my own for a couple of years, with and without friends. I was doing things NO 15-year-old should do.

I had just gotten my HED, similar to a GED, back before they checked your id for those things.

My son, he does things his own way. Always has. He is not a cookie cutter kid, that is for sure. But he is probably the coolest kid you will ever meet. He reminds me so much of a boy I knew once upon a time, who has a really cool mom. She was constantly challenged, proud and intrigued by the boy. He grew up to be a really good, capable and smart man. I know my boy will too. The way his brain works fascinates and stumps me. To have been privy to his first verbally acknowledged thought processes, wonder about his secret ones and have him share with me his new evolving thought processes is a perpetual gift.

I like to think that he couldn’t live on his own, make his way like I did. But he¬†probably¬†could. He is much more capable than this Mama wants to believe. The conversations that we hold¬†have shown me this. Rather than having a big expensive birthday and presents, he wants me to make him a cake. He wants his grown up friend Matt, ¬†to spend the weekend. So I am going to drive to Eugene to pick Matt up. He doesn’t want me to spend money because money is tight. (which¬†simultaneously¬†breaks my heart that he knows and yet warms my heart that he is probably a little more fiscally responsible than I, because I would have maxed a credit card for a gift had he asked for one.)

He has his 5 year plan in progress. It’s different from the 5 year plan I had for him and the 5 year plan I had for myself at his age. But as he gets older, I realize more and more, it’s not my plan. ūüôā That is the point. I am not the thinker. I get to observe the thinker.

Happy Mother’s Day.

How many tools are missing from your toolbox?

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How many tools are missing from your toolbox?

One of my best lifelong friends and I were having a conversation about being in relationships and trying to raise teenaged children when we basically raised ourselves and don’t have any sort of healthy relationships to model. Honestly, we still don’t. When it comes down to it, everything I know about being in relationships and raising children has come from television or trial and error. We are simply just a generation that is missing tools from our tool box, or maybe we are not able to read the schematics. Maybe it is outdated technology. I don’t know.

Recently, I feel I have learned a lot from my studies, as far as theories and developmental stages; relationship dynamics and the like. But honestly, it’s all been practice. Hopefully, my kids aren’t as effed up as I think I am sometimes.¬†It seems that I try very hard to balance being a friend and an authoritarian with being nurturing and not trying to make them be anything but themselves. I want them to question authority and the status quo, but do what I say, when I say it. Cause I said it. Meh. Sometimes it works. More often than not, someone ends up mad, sad, or both.

The first 10 years of each of my kids lives were relatively easy. I believe it’s a combination of hormones, theirs and mine plus the additional stresses of a regular life plus graduate school that have led to our mutual frustration. But all in all, I think they have it pretty good. Me on the other hand, I feel like a nutcase most of the time. I over think everything and vacillate between being a tyrant, a mama bear and a big sister as my parenting role. Perhaps it comes from my combining Roseanne Conner, Charlie Salinger, and Benny Lopez. If I had to describe my parenting style, it would definitely be¬†like¬†a big sister. Which if you subscribe to the idea that we learn more from our siblings than our parents, great. But if not….

And then there is romantic relationships. Oy. I really, really suck at them. It’s true. Some days I just feel that relationships are a tool themselves to learn from, other times I feel like that is a rationalization of someone who sucks at relationships. I have control problems and get in relationships with people for all the wrong reasons and don’t give things time to develop. I know this. Plus, I am constantly evolving and becoming a different person it seems. Now, this may sound like the rantings of a borderline personality issue, but I have explored that. It’s really not. It’s simply a matter of the fact that I am just¬†starting¬†to get a grip on who I am and who I want to be as an adult.

I grew up really fast and skipped some steps; it left me a completely developed¬†underdeveloped¬†adult. ūüôā And now that I am going back and reexamining and reprocessing those¬†pieces¬†I had to put off in order to survive and adapt, I am finding myself drawn to things and becoming a person I would have argued with you about 16 years ago. C’est La vie.

So what’s the score? How do you cope? Do you just keep on keeping on and let the chips fall where they may? Sigh. Usually I try to be pretty upbeat, funny or proactive about my posts and life in general, but sometimes I am just soooo fucking tired. It’s been a long life.