On a good day, parenting will test the integrity of your character. On a bad day, parenting will test your will to live. Parenting children with trauma histories will cause you to test the integrity of everything and everyone you thought you knew, for the rest of your life.
~J. Smith

Sunday, April 6, 2014


In physical science, we wrapped up the unit on energy.  It can not be created or destroyed, it can only be transformed. Do you know, that unit had some serious metaphorical overlaps for me!  

I have spent much time in quiet reflection. I have read and reread my posts here and in my private journal.  I recognize that for those readers that don't know me IRL, my journey since August reads as though I am bipolar, swinging from a very happy, blissful person to a suddenly sullen, sorrowful soul.  Please trust me when I tell you, that isn't the case.  I will sum it up as grief.  Nevertheless, I have sorted, processed, thought and ultimately transformed my energy.  I have come to the conclusion, whether I liked it or not, it has been for the best that I did not move last summer as I originally planned.  For me, being here in this house and in Georgia one more year, was what I needed.  
I have learned that I am a bold, amazing woman that is capable of incredible things.  I have gained incredible confidence in myself. I have learned what I need and what I want and even enjoyed the astounding thought that the two might finally overlap.  I have a clearer understanding of what is required for the children and I and how to get those needs met.  I trust.  I have faith, hope, healing, light and love.  I have shaken off my fear and buried my demons.  I have learned who I am, the REAL Jennie, the person I was before an abusive marriage, the person I was meant to be.  And I like her!  

And best of all, I have done it by myself.  

Now.  Have I LIKED doing it by myself?  Uh.....no.
Has it made me angry that I've been by myself?  Ayup.
Have I wanted to hurt things and people and the universe because of it?  Mmmhmmm

But I did it anyway.  I even kinda smile and laugh a little bit now.  

Yeah. I still cry every day.  Some times deep, shaking sobs.  If you get a text from me around 7 pm, just know it's because I'm blowing up again.  yep yep.  Sun goes down, I fall apart.  The loneliness.  It's killing me.  I am believing with insane, blind faith that what I want and what I need will overlap and I will finally be on the path I was intended for in life. As water takes the easiest path when pulled by gravity and across landscapes, I am believing my life will do the same. I'm believing like a mad woman that what I know to be true in my heart will be true in reality.   I am in want of only time and the transformation of my energy.

The house is just about as good as I'm going to get it.  I did a few more "honey do" list chores this weekend to finish the piddly repairs.  There are big things this house needs but it is live-able.  An investor's dream because flipping it should be easy.  Or made ready for rent.  Now to get someone to agree with me and make an offer...

Finding a job?  Pbft.  I got an email for a phone interview but it's in an area four hours north of where I want to be and in a different state.  I was on a job board for another locale because a few months ago I thought my life was headed on a different path and I forgot to pull my resume down off that site.  After texting some friends, I'm going to do the interview anyway.  I promised myself I would knock on every door to see what would open to me. 

It's spring break.  I have much work to do.  I've also carved out some play time.  Story time.
"Such a lovely sunny Sunday, dear," she said as she approached her husband.  He had been up for two hours already, his coffee drank, his eggs and bacon happily being broken down by his liver into the six essential nutrients in his digestive system.  She found him putzing about in the vegetable garden, pulling weeds, pruning and spraying for bugs.  Hearing her voice, he stood from his crouched position, removed his hat and, making eye contact with her, raised an eyebrow, his nonverbal cue that she could continue her thought, he was ready to listen.

"Well," she started to say, but noticing that there were a few rogue lateral buds on the tomato bush, she pinched them off absentmindedly.  He waited.  "Oh.  yes.  Sorry."  She looked up at him and smiled. "Right.  As I was saying.  It's a lovely sunny Sunday."

"So it is," he replied and continued waiting.  He smiled back at her because he knew she just needed a moment and her words would spill out.

"I was thinking as I finished the laundry, that perhaps we could go to the park today?  Feed the ducks?  I like to watch the children play.  Their laughter is music to my ears."  She paused, waiting for a nonverbal cue in his body language to discern if she should continue.  Noticing no change in his affect, she decided to up the ante.  "I could make us a picnic lunch?  And...well, there are enough ripe berries here for a pie..."

Without saying a word, he put his hat back upon his head, gathered his gardening tools and walked toward the shed to put them away, returning with a shallow bucket to begin picking berries.  She grinned like a fool and though stiff in her knees from age and arthritis, she skipped and hurried to the back door of the house to begin packing their lunch.  He had agreed to her idea.

The screen door slammed closed behind him as he entered with a bucket full of berries.  She had already put a strainer in the sink for rinsing them and the pie crust was neatly pressed into the pie dish, waiting.  The tea was steeping and sandwiches made.  Coming up behind her, he wrapped his free arm around her waist and put a warm kiss on her neck.  "Thank you.  This is nice.  I needed this today."  

"You get to pick the park this time," she said as she packed the bag.  She giggled.  She knew which one he would choose.  His favorite park had the old wooden benches beside the walking path that wrapped around the center pond with the fountain.  He said it was because the fountain made a soothing sound but she knew his secret.  That park was frequented by the lovely young mothers that he enjoyed watching.

He cleared his throat.  "Well, I do like that park with the fountain but it doesn't really matter to me."

She rinsed the berries and answered, "Ok. Fountain park it is.  Now go get washed up you old fool. You look like a child that's been mucking about in the dirt all morning."  Playfully, she snapped the kitchen towel on his backside.  "Get, you!  Out of my kitchen.  I have some more work to do before we can go."  She laughed at the feigned look of hurt on his face then snatched his hat off his head and put it on hers.

At the park,they unloaded their items without saying anything but working in tandem like an old team of horses that knew what the other partner needed and would do because it had been done so many times before.  They walked hand in hand the long way around the pond toward their favorite bench.  Taking up their usual spots, she on his left side, they kicked off their shoes and rubbed their bare feet in the grass.  They ate in silence, watching the ducks and listening to the sounds of the scene around them.  "You always know," he said at last.

"I do." She nodded her head.

"That is why I love you."

"I know." She whispered back.  He grabbed her hand and kissed it.    She leaned in to his shoulder and closed her eyes as he wrapped his arm around her.  "I always knew."

He harrumphed.  "Ayup"  Then he placed his hat lower on his head to shield his eyes from the sun,or was it to hide his tears?  Crossed his ankles with his legs out in front of him, pulled her closer and laughed.  "yup yup yup.  You're my little witch."

Sunday, March 30, 2014

This Path, This New Moon

Somehow I let three weeks sneak by me without posting. I have been busy.

My house is now on the market, for sale by owner. There has been lots of interest but no offers yet. I have done an insane amount of work to the home to make it more attractive to a potential buyer including removing 20 year old azaleas and putting in a new flower bed in their place.

I've updated my resume and applied for jobs.  I've had two interviews already.  Neither job is going to be the right fit but I have gleaned a lot of information from both interviews and now have a better idea of how to set my course for future submissions.  (that's my job tomorrow morning after coffee time)

We got a new black lab puppy and I'm so glad.  I agree, getting a new puppy when I'm planning a move is probably not the smartest choice but as little Hydrocarbon was quite literally, placed in my hands, i considered her as a gift and what was meant to be for our family.  We have missed Gracie very much the past three months.

I am enjoying fourth saturday fire night.  I have been doing this for quite a while but gave it an official name in January.  Everyone is welcome but sometimes it is just a handful of folks.  It doesn't matter.  Fire time is for whomever needs it.  I am having so much fun with the fire poi, getting more and more proficient.  Last night I wanted to practice to a few songs that felt very "poi-ish" to me.  Dulaman by Emerald Women is one such song.  I was able to do a jig while spinning the poi to the song when it began to rain.  The sun was still shining so there was a double rainbow in the sky that appeared while I danced and spun the poi.  Very moving and quite the new moon tribute if you ask me.  I'll take the promise, whatever it might be, thank you very much.

I returned to singing and playing the piano after many, many years.  I had sworn I would never do it again but two of my students hoodwinked me into playing for them for the talent show and one thing led to another so I ended up doing the intermission music as well.  It was nice to reincorporate that to my life.  I didn't realize how much I had missed it.

I am swiftly and happily reforging friendships with the wonderful friends and family I saw on my trip.  Everyone is so positive and is bolstering my faith and confidence in my plans to shake it up quite a bit and get the kids and I on a much better path in life.

Today I took my friend's German Exchange student on our annual spring beach trip.  We do this the last weekend in March or the first weekend in April every year.  I like to be there when the wind is still blustering, the water is chilly and the crowds are small.  We met up with the kids' birthmother, her husband and their two younger sisters.  It was another wonderful afternoon.  I'm a bit sunburned but I'll survive.

In all of this doing and rushing about, my mind is still tracing over old haunts, hurts and hopes.  As I walked the beach today I made certain to quiet my mind and focus on rest so I could be ready for the next two weeks of insanity.  I am hoping beyond hope to have a job offer and a buyer by the end of the month of April.  Sooner would be nice.  I've decided to buy some boxes and in faith, begin packing the nonessential things.  It will also declutter the house and make it more visually appealing when I show it to buyers.

There is much I want in this life.  This journey is so hard, long, and lonely.  It was never meant for just one soul to carry it all but I do.  I know that taking this path and being successful will be the confidence boost I need.  My friend told me Joshua 1:9 is the verse for me.  I'm claiming it even though I have to be honest and say religion and me are still at odds.

So scared.  So worried.  So lonely.  

I cry every day.  Truth.  I'm taking evening primrose and holy basil to help with my mood.  It is working better than the prozac I took for years.  Through my tears, I will keep marching.  I have already made plans in July to attend another friend's special event and even SING.  I knew if I made the plans it would bolster my hope and resolve that desires will come to pass.  Sometimes you just need to step out on that ledge and see what you see.  Right now, I feel like I'm standing on a glass bridge over the grand canyon.

skywalk over grandcanyon - stock google image

There is light, love and hope all around me.  I am not forgotten.  These things I know but whether I like it or not, this path is mine to walk alone.

Petty Dodds - my avy for the RPG I play. artwork is original

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Sunday, March 9, 2014

Chipping Away

I have been slowly chipping away at my rotund self.  Since August I've lost 40 pounds.  Here's proof.

October 2013

November 2013

this morning

It's been fun watching myself melt. I've dropped two pants sizes and one shirt size.  I can't wear the clothes in the top two pictures anymore, they've gotten too big.  And the pants I'm wearing in today's photo were too small in October and now they are almost too big.  My goal is to get into a size 16.  If I can get down to a size 14 I will be over the moon giddy. 

My trip to PA was so nice.  I caught up with my friends and family.  I laughed until my sides hurt and cried until my head hurt.  I have so much love and light, every where I go and then I realized that I am love and light every where I go. What I've discovered is that there has always been an undercurrent of love and support, friendship and kindness in my life, throughout all of my trials.  An underpinning of hope and guidance that has buoyed me against the storms, the raging seas, the stiff current, the tides that swell and even the tsunamis.  As I have traversed the murky waters of my life,  there has always been a rock at the bottom of the creek bed that I can stand upon to get my head above water long enough to catch my breath.

I cried nearly the whole trip home.  I don't want to be here.  I don't want my children to be here.  I want hope and healing for my family.  I want my happily ever after: I want to finally be free from the hurt and the pain.  I want to live a life where I'm not struggling against the current every day, fighting for what is right.  I want to be loved with reckless abandon in the same way that I love.  

I have forbidden myself to dream because it hurts so much when my dreams and hopes are dashed time and again.  No more.  I will dream for ME.  I will dream that at the end of this journey, my children will have the resources they need, that I will have employment that sustains me, that I will be in the home of my heart, that a partner that knows my worth will come running to me and declare me as the most amazing woman he has ever met, embracing both me and my children with all of our messiness.  I will dream that I won't be alone, carrying this burden by myself for the rest of my days.  I will dream that justice will finally swing in my favor and I will be free.  I will dream that there will be more love and light, hope, happiness and healing down my life path than I could ever imagine.  I will dream of my happy ending because they can't take that from me.  Nope nope.  My dreams are mine.

We walked side by side toward the rolling hills that ascended into higher and higher rocky crags until the skyline was nearly hidden, the peaks touching the clouds.  We shared no words, our stride matching step for step.  A scream of pain escaped the hillside as though it came from every where.  Without speaking, we raced to the origin to help.

Higher and higher we ran until there before us we saw a battle among the broken and downtrodden and the rich landlords denying all of food, shelter and happiness.  Not wanting to be killed ourselves, we ducked under a rocky outcropping and watched the scene unfold.  Blood shed, screams of terror and weeping of anguish filled the scene until we could bear it no longer.  Still not saying a word to one another, as though we were of one mind, we dodged arrows and swords until we were safely on the camp of the defending, and swiftly losing, side.  Without hesitation or fear of impertinence, we walked directly toward the commander and addressed him.

"What needs to be done to save your people?" inquired my partner.

"We want only shelter and food.  They deny us everything." said the commander.

"What is their reasoning?" I questioned.

"They seek to destroy us.  That is all."  He replied dejectedly with a shrug.

With a turn of the head simultaneously, my partner and I caught sight of a buck dashing through the middle of the battle field.  He drew his bow and arrow, I reached for my sword and we were running in different directions to guide the buck toward the same rocky outcropping we had come from, knowing the buck would lose footing and stumble long enough to be seized.  As we darted through the chaos of the battle around us, slowly both sides stopped their fighting to watch us work in tandem to capture the buck.  Just as the animal came to the rocks, it lost its footing, stumbled and fell.  My partner launched an arrow straight for his neck and I descended from the other direction to finish it off with one fell of my sword.

Holding up the head of the buck by the antlers, he shouted to the hills, all now standing still in wonder, "This is for the people of this land!  Let them be free or we shall be upon your head as we have done to this creature!"  Then I took my sword and splayed it open, entrails spilling onto the grass as the people of the land whooped and hollered in victory.

As swiftly as we arrived, my partner and I left, returning to our outpost.  He left my side to speak with a lieutenant from another brigade.  He was certain she would give him the answers to his questions.  Though he knew and felt our abilities were strong as a team, he needed to be sure there wasn't a better outpost for his skills.  His questioning pained me but I said nothing.  I knew he had to see for himself.  I returned to squadron which was half way through morning drills.

The sound of singing as they marched filled my ears with gladness and hope.  I could not make my partner see what I saw and the truth was that we were on assignment only, to see if we were a strong team.  It had yet to be decided if our match would be officially recorded by the Commander.  I had to report my findings on our mission.  Walking directly to my Sergeant, she held a hand to me, signalling that I wait to address her until drills were over.  I stood beside the column of the balcony we stood on, watching the drills below and allowing the cadence singing of the troops wash over me.  

Their song was of colors, each person to his or her place in the spectrum.  All wore black, head to toe with the exception of one scarf around the neck or as an armband.  As drills finished, my squadron marched up the steps of the balcony, still singing the song of their colors as they marched past me toward the barracks.  When the song was done I looked at my Sergeant to report the details of my assignment with my partner.  She did not let me speak.  She handed me only a white scarf.  I received it with trepidation knowing the contents would seal the fate of who my partner would be and what my new role within the brigade would be. I opened the cloth to read my assignment.

You are a Mohammed to his blue eyes
I woke up from a dead sleep with a start.  The words echoing in my ears. I'm not sure what this dream means but I thought it was powerful enough to record. 

Sunday, March 2, 2014


Last January I bought a purple composition notebook (my favorite color) so I could write in it all of the miscellaneous things that I needed to know and do to make a plan for relocating.  I have it with me now, on my journey through Pennsylvania and I thought I would share with you my
 Permission Slip for Self
1.  I give myself permission to make life choices that will make me happy
2.  i give myself permission to think of my needs first
3.  i give myself permission to disappoint others when they don't like my decisions.
4.  I give myself permission to love myself
5.  I give myself permission to receive love from others.
6.  I give myself permission to ask for help\
7.  I give myself permission to accept help from others when they expect no return
8.  i give myself permission to eliminate chaos in my life by all legal means necessary
9.  i give myself permission to accept that happiness is not earned, it is accepted and taken
10.  I give myself permission to confess that I am an amazing woman
11.  I give myself permission to confess that I am an amazing mother
12.  i give myself permission to respect myself
13.  i give myself permission to not validate my choices
14.  I give myself permission to be in charge of my future and my present
15.  I give myself permission to enjoy the present without trying to write the end of my story
16.  I give myself permission to grieve my past provided I do not hurt myself or others and that I do not hinder my present
17.  I give myself permission to feel the loss of the last 39 years for as long as necessary
18.  I give myself permission to accept that because of my rocky foundation in life, I will always have weaknesses, loss and anxiety
19.  I give myself permission to overcome my weaknesses, losses and anxieties
20.  i give myself permission to share my life story unabashedly 

Yes I can, I am not alone, I am worth the effort, I am enough.

I still struggle with most of these. It is a daily effort to remind myself that all of these are fair, valid and permissible.  I still have to accept it.  Daily.  DAILY!  

How about you?  What permissions do YOU need to give yourself on your own journey?  

Talking to many friends both at home and here on my trip.  So much wisdom and insight and love and acceptance.  I am a blessed woman and I am learning that I am a blessing and a light for many in like kind.  As Cinch said, I'm awesome.  I can make friends every where I go.  

But where, exactly, do I go?  These are the new  permissions I need for today and my future:
21.  I give myself permission to make this journey in steps, to accept that there may not be one final resting place but rather some small jumps and hops toward my future.  
22.  I give permission to accept that I can not control others: not their choices, actions or words.
23.  I give myself permission to find the people whose spirits are like mine; to want to be near them and live my life with them
24.  I give myself permission to hope and dream and pray and wish.
25.  I give myself permission to make mistakes because they aren't intentional but rather causative as a result of being brave.
26.  I give myself permission to fail.
27.  I give myself permission to get up, dust of my butt and try again.
28.  I give myself permission keep knocking on doors until I know what is the right path for me and the children
29.  I give myself permission to consider ALL options no matter how odd.
30.  I give myself permission to trust myself.

poetry is original work of blog author.  All copyright laws apply.

The fire quietly breathes.
Flames flicker light on her face
Like dancing shadows of remembrances.
Staring into the heat of the pit
She ponders the mysteries.

Heat, source and air are all that is needed
To make the dragon come to life.
Three simple elements unite
To form the burning beast.
Oh how it burns!

One by one the elements wane
Until only air remains,
Whispering gently to the glowing coals.
Only Source is needed
To rekindle the sleeping dragon.

Be the Source.
Watch the fire grow once more.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

The Great Escape

There is a new moon on Saturday.  I will breathe deeply and exhale slowly as I make a plan to begin my life anew.

A few posts back, I mentioned a premonition I had in December about January and February, that they would be dark, dark days, that things and people would go underground, that life would be rough and it would seem as though all would be lost and that by March, it would begin to turn around again.  I didn't know at the time that March 1st would be a new moon.  I also didn't know that I would be in a different state, attempting to make a plan for my family.

Kisikelia, who has been following my blogs for many years made, the astute observation that I have sounded depressed.  Yes and no.  I never lost sight of hope and I never stopped dreaming.  I didn't want to die and I have always seen a light, however distant it seemed.  That said, I have definitely walked through a a pit of despair  I have felt lost, empty, lonely and overwhelmed.  Most poignantly, I have grieved bitterly the revelation of what I never had in my relationship with my ex spouse.  I realized, completely, how little he gave me and how  significantly troubled that relationship was because I had a comparison to hold that relationship to.

I have learned that I am awesome. I am an amazing woman that is ready for relationship and that I have so much to offer.  I have learned what works for me and what doesn't.  I have learned that some rules can be broken and that there is so much of life I have not lived yet. I have learned that there is love and hope and healing all around me. I have learned that paradigms can change but only to a degree because there are governing morals and values we individually ascribe to.  I have learned what it feels like to be accepted as I am, and to be appreciated.  I have learned that I help make a good team. I have learned that I am strong and encouraging, positive, funny and desirable. I have had so much fun and happiness.  And all of that?  I never had with my ex.

So it hasn't been drepression, it has been grief.  Hard, bitter grief and despair that I have spent so much of my life not living but believing I have lived.  I have been in a chrysalis for a long, long time but a friend, whom I will always cherish [1], showed me the way out, how to beat my wings and to take flight.[2]

I leave on Friday to travel to my home state, Pennsylvania, to knock on doors and see what I see.  I am terrified but I will make this great escape, I will fly on my new wings, I will embrace this new moon and the words of my premonition.  I will shake off the clinging dust of my grief and break the rules that should be broken.

There is a new moon on Saturday.  I will breathe deeply and exhale slowly as I make a plan to begin my life anew.

[1]For my wondertwin:  If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants. ~Sir Issac Newton

[2] for all of my other incredible, amazing friends that have watched me grieve, hugged me, cried with me and encouraged me to get up and try again: I don't need a friend who changes when I change and who nods when I nod; my shadow does that much better. ~Plutarch

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Patience Part II

Guess this is my new Sunday ritual.  I used to go to church on Sundays but now that feels like a stupid ritual.  I prefer meditating, enjoying the peace, nature, the silence in the house while the kids sleep, the sound of the wind chimes that I have hanging at both entrances to the house, the birds chirping, the wind blowing, the clock ticking. 

*takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly*

I can't put a finger on it but Sunday mornings as a single parent are the hardest, loneliest, scariest times for me.  My bed is empty.  There's no one there to hug me or kiss me awake.  No quiet pillow talk, no snuggling, no plans for brunch, no one to make coffee for, no discussions of how to spend the day as a family, no Sunday paper to share.  Just, one more day of how to make it through without feeling lonely, overwhelmed, listening to Sissy scream at me, AB pacing and talking and pacing and hugging and pacing and WG inviting all the neighbor kids over to play until she melts down because she can't actually deal with that chaos for more than few hours.  And me?  By myself, no adults, just another week of responsibility staring me in the face, my coffee getting cold, my loneliness haunting my thoughts and hugging myself hoping that human touch from at least my own arms will warm me up.

I lie to myself until I believe it (and sometimes I still don't believe it).  I tell myself that this will pass.  I tell myself that I'm a strong, amazing woman.  I tell myself that I can do this.  I tell myself that I'm not truly alone.  I tell myself that I am worth it - worth the effort, worth the price, worth the sacrifice.  I tell myself that I'm beautiful and funny and smart and loveable.  I tell myself to look around me and see all the wonderful things I've created and done with my life.  I tell myself that I am a loyal friend, a hard worker, and that I'm patient, kind, giving and selfless. I tell myself that when people think of me, they see all of these things in me and more.

Then I collapse into a heap and cry and cry and cry because I don't believe it.  I WANT to, but I don't.  I know it's true but I don't feel it.  I hear the words but I don't see it.  I give until it hurts because I want people to give back but that's not how it works, is it?  I should be pouring into myself with the same measure of love and respect that I give others but that feels counter intuitive.  It is the nature of abuse - to never believe that I am worth anything, to take blame when things don't go well even though I've done nothing wrong.  It is the lies of the years of abuse that haunt me and tell me in a louder, stronger voice that I am flawed, unlovable, worthless, wrong on all accounts, need to atone for my misdeeds in order to get the good things I want,  to believe that if I give enough I will finally be worth something.

Which is why church doesn't really fit in my thought process anymore - Christianity as whole is set on the premise that if we do good, we will have good things.  It's one more abusive paradigm in my already challenged, hurting soul.  I can't. I just can't do that anymore.  I fight so hard to keep my head steady as it is.

I wrote this poem in November.  It still applies.  I wish it didn't. I wish I could get past this hurt but no matter how hard I try to shake it off, it just keeps hurting, I keep feeling lonely, I keep feeling scared, I keep feeling like I'm missing something that will make this life turn around for me at last.  I know that just last week I was writing about hope.  I still have that hope, but today that river in my soul is muddied and murky with all the sediment and runoff from the hard things in life.

PATIENCE  (11/26/13)

copyright laws apply, this original work is the property of this blog owner.  Copying, claiming ownership or redistributing is an infringement of the author's rights and will be prosecuted.

Just hold my hand a little while
let the fear leak out my shoes.
Hold a tissue to my tears
Let the trees be my muse.

Don't say a word, the wind will talk
It whispers hope to me.
Please don't look me in the eyes
I fear what you might see.

A warm embrace might do the trick
Then I can smell your love.
The fear pummels my every thought,
A punishing iron glove.

I'm sorry that I'm broke this way,
Filled with doubt and anxiety.
I know you're never out of reach
But alone, don't let me be.

So hold my hand a little more
Please don't leave my side.
And tomorrow I will laugh again
My smile bright and wide.

Saturday, February 8, 2014


*long, drown out exhale*

deflated balloon much?  yeah.

I thought the universe had given me a green light several months ago, thought that my life had found it's course and direction finally, FINALLY and then KABLAM!

Universe is so snarky.  Pulled the carpet out from under me just as I was standing tall on my feet.  Now I'm back down on my arse and in think, plan, do mode but a little more wounded and weary.

I could get my head stuck up my butt and curl into a ball and fuss it out.  (ok, i've done that a bit already) but, all around me my friends, both virtual and real-world, have had one hell of a time lately.  It's as though universe is blowing up on all of us.  Maybe universe needs some of the love and energy back?  Kinda hard for me to do that when she's been so wretched to me.

vague enough for ya?  Wish I could be more specific.  Don't feel like I have the liberty to be brutally honest on this blog anymore.

Sissy is spiraling down again.  She will likely get another short-term placement in the next few weeks like she had in November.  Which, all things considered, is good for all of us.  I know the next few years with her as she wends her way through puberty are going to be hell but I don't really want to do it.

AB is so tall now.  So grown.  So teenager.  *rolls eyes*  But really, I can't complain.  He's a good son.  He tries hard most of the time.  he loves unconditionally.  He helps without being asked.  He just needs a lot of direction.  And redirection...and redirection.  and please, PLEASE do not put that young man in running pants because when he starts pacing, the *swish swish swish* drives me absolutely insane.

WG is all energy. I wrote this poem for her today:

 a whimsy, a sprite
she jumps with delight.
with gossamer wings
she bounces on springs
and ascends into flight

And Jennie?
Pissed.  Mad as hell.  Tired of life crapping out on me.  Tired of fighting, fighting, fighting for what I want and need.  Tired of having to reevaluate.  Tired of having to stand up for myself and my rights.  Tired of being the one with the short end of the stick.  *sigh*

Sometimes I get a premonition or "vision" or insight.  I have an intuitive nature.  Call it whatever you want to.  I know that many times I have dreams or random thoughts that pop into my mind that give me hope or energy to carry on when it gets dark (and sometimes to send energy, prayers and love to people I that are hurting).  The first week of December I had one of those premonition events.  I was in my thinking spot (the bathroom), stepping out of the shower and this:

hold on.  It's about to get really bumpy.  Everything that is working right now is going to look like it is getting turned off, shut down, like you are getting blocked out and cut off.  All of the universe's "Yes's" are going to become "No's" and it will look barren through the end of February.  Then it will turn around and the "yes's" will return but modified and better than they are now.

I don't subscribe to my intuitions as a exact measures but I also use them for hope and sometimes, guidance.  The thought of "better" yes's is good but yeah, it's dark right now!

So to all of you, because I know I'm not the only one that is hurting, in fact, just about everyone I know is hitting some gosh darned hard low spots right now, hang on.  Just hang on.  The tide will turn and we will all get back on our intended courses once more.

Just take my hand and sit with me
Make joy and mirth from misery.
We'll dance as though the day has come
When happiness joins the setting sun.

For Red 
Beloved Tennessee Walker
You made us all smile