When anyone takes the time to read any of the things I write, it’s thrilling. I’ve finally gotten out of the delusion that I have to “be”, “sell”, or “do” anything outside of writing to be a writer. Similarly, I've learned I don't have to do anything more than be alive to be successfully living.... Continue Reading →
Talking about rape, abortion, adoptions - also the last 20 years of my life. Don't read it if you don't want to read about yucky stuff. Go anywhere else on my blog, there's plenty.
First World Problems: Alexa doesn't yet understand "Play Fear Innocculum album by TOOL". On the positive, she has not given me angry mariachi instead. The solution to frustration is of course acceptance and shifting to gratitude. Despite the fact that my house looked like the aftermath of a frat party, there were 5 boys playing,... Continue Reading →
As I'm struggling with being a member of the 51st state in Special Education, feeling as though the IEP I moved here with is about as useful as the tissue I keep rage crying in, I can’t help but ask a lot of questions. Mainly, I wonder how it is we all collectively as parents... Continue Reading →
Today, 6 days out... Finally got sleep last night. Passed out before 8. I’m closer to where I had wanted to be to leave for the beach, a day late. There’s so many things to do for the movers, we are going to do showings this week, so I needed to get some order for... Continue Reading →
From yesterday, 1 week out from move. Current mantra/hopefully help me keep some shred of me intact: “The family that cries together, flies together” Shirts are soaked in my children’s tears - for days now. My shoulder is soaked with my husband’s tears, and my cheeks are soaked in mine. I tell us all this... Continue Reading →
The hydra is finished I modify my appearance with important events. I celebrated my driver's license with getting my cartilages pierced (and literally starting to date the dude who would become the father of the girl represented by my left shoulder) A tattoo goes on to mark something for me. (Literally, no shit Sherlock) Figuratively,... Continue Reading →
...Instead of running with anxiety, I’m questioning it. “What is this [discomfort of whatever form] saying to me?” Has been more helpful then “I’ve ruined everything and I am a worthless idiotic sack of shit” (believe it or not!) Earlier today, I did it and then went to meditate, and just now I did it and realized I needed to flop for a few minutes.