Category Archives: Motherhood
My son the narrator
Was watching a spoof, ‘the walking deceased’ and thought, “hey! That sounds like my kid!”
and it totally does, and they did their thing before the movie. Just saying.
Turning 46 – and not thinking I would (Oh, and some stuff about debauchery)
Tomorrow is my birthday.
I will be 46. (I actually had to do the math today on a calculator – I wasn’t sure if I was going to be 46 or 47 … any of you forget too?)
*TANGENT* I’ve written a couple of posts that I deleted – because they contained photos I thought were beautiful, but they WERE me in various states of undress. Artistic though – no boobs or privates. I deleted them because I try to keep this site at least rated ‘PG’ – but I’m posting these pics now – and NOT deleting because at 45, almost 46, I should have confidence. I should document myself before I sag, and I should trust that those of you reading this, are READING because you like the written word and probably have some tolerance and admiration for self-expression. I need to trust this. So here we go. The photos I posted, then woke up and thought “FUCK! That’s TOO X-rated for my site!” When they’re SO not.
*TANGENT OVER*

Me, in the ‘Sideways’ (movie) chair – the light playing on my undies is the sun coming through the wicker holes. I keep telling myself, “It’s just a bare back! CHILL!”

My legs and tummy. Jim caught the perfect angle. And again, I had to tell myself to chill – it’s not Xrated.
I’ve never been one of those chicks that have multiple ’29th’ birthdays, refusing to hit their 30’s – or have ever lied about my age. Ok – to be fair, I DID age myself in my handwritten English passport when I was 20 to be able to accompany my English friend to a bar.
Totally worked.
But then before I traveled again, I had to get a freaking new passport.
Fail.
SO I was asked today: “Are you excited about your birthday?”
And honestly, for me at least, the older I get the less excited I get.
I’m just surprised and grateful to be alive after all the debauchery in my 20’s. I seriously, SERIOUSLY did NOT see me making it to 40.
Although, two things consistently happen on that ‘special’ day.
1. I wake up and have that momentary “It’s my birthday!” thought.
2. I want to look pretty for the day.
So when I took my quick-lunch and headed to Ross with a $9 limit (in my head) for a new dress – I was happy to leave the store with a $7.49 clearance outfit that will give me that ‘new outfit feeling.’
That feeling is so funny isn’t it?
Unless people see you week after week in the same stuff, if you’re wearing something new, no one else knows it, yet – you carry yourself differently. LOL!
Anyway – back to being an adult and not thinking I’d make it there.
I was a VERY good girl in my youth. I was. And when I hit my 20’s, I guess I felt like I had to make up for lost time.
I dated some bad boys.
I became the epicenter of some very bad things.
I recall one night, at a warehouse rave that even cops would enter, see the debauchery and decide, “Um, yeah – no – we’re not getting into this” when I had tried Ecstasy for the first and only time.
I was in the VIP room – my boyfriend at the time was DJing the event.
We were in a circle just chatting.
When everyone suddenly hushed. Now, I’m feeling good. And enjoying the moment and keep talking.
I noticed the look on everyone elses faces … and look up.
And there is a gun.
To my head.
What I hadn’t noticed, was that the host of the party, was sitting on the ground, execution style (on his knees, hands behind head) with another gun to HIS head.
They asked us to remove all jewelry and were taking the money the host charged to get into the event.
The first words out of my mouth??
“You just ruined my high.”
These were crazy times. Bonkers days that rolled into nights and back into days and “Shall we go get breakfast?” as we squinted at the sun.
There was retaliation that night.
And shortly after – a friend of ours was tortured and killed.
Dangerous times.
And I know who was behind it – and for the life of me – or for his life, I cannot remember his name.
And I’m sorry for that.
And I’m sorry that I was a part of that world.
I was also given a knife and much trust in watching the door for other raves – taking money in a city RIDDLED with gang activity.
Me?! The innocent British girl who was still playing with Barbies until 16?
So, you can see – that my 46th birthday was not anticipated.
I can thank my son for that.
But I do think back – and I look at my life today – and I think, anyone can change.
I don’t see hopelessness where others do.
I don’t see losers where others do – because ‘losers’ are a state of mind – or a stage of life.
I STILL see SUCH good.
And so tomorrow – I will be SO grateful to have reached 46. FORTY FREAKING SIX! With a healthy, loving, talented son and an amazing, talented, beautiful fiance – and embrace my years.
Mothers Day 2015
What a wonderful weekend.
Spent with loved ones.
I’m finding out the most avoided tasks can be fun with a partner. The yard is cleared – weeded – raked.
Mothers Day found me very sleepy. Spent a lot of time catching up on sleep and in the process, laundry didn’t get done. So tonight I’ll be musing from the Laundromat … that will be different.
Night time edition – does that mean I can talk more about the undies that fall to the ground from the dryer?
Anyway – here’s some highlights from Mothers Day. My son literally gave me the shirt off of his back as I was chilly in the restaurant. What a chivalrous young man he’s become.
And, it’s perfectly acceptable by the way, at a buffet, to use dessert as an intermission before resuming with other food items. 😉
Until tonight …
Have a great Monday!
Happy Birthday Bird
Happy Birthday Nicholas Avery Charles …
Tomorrow, you will be 20.
I don’t know where the time went – and I’m finding myself unable to truly say everything I want to. You have been the constant in my life for these two decades – and I’m not sure how to explain how much that has meant to me.
I clung on when you turned 18 with the knowledge you were still a teen. Knowing we don’t automatically become adults at the stroke of midnight. Suddenly wiser than we were at 11:59 p.m. when we were 17.
I sat in the comfort that I still had a ‘teenager’ because it meant you were still mine.
And now – tomorrow – you’re going to be 20.
I don’t know where 20 will take you, but I know you’re going to have fun finding out.
Because you have become an amazing, free thinking, curious, unique young man.
Funny, fun-loving – a gift to be around.
You’re a caring, considerate and thoughtful friend.
A generous, loving and loyal boyfriend.
And an incredible, accepting and authentic son.
I return to the fact that I just do not have the words to let you know how special you are to me. Some things can’t be written. Only felt.
My eyes are full – my chest is tight – my love for you is infinite.
I am so glad you were born bird.
Of True Love and Hammocks and Owls
I’ve been feeling insecure.
Mostly I think because I still want to pinch myself. “You don’t get the fairy tale!”
I’ve been vocal (or … literary) about that – to my love. And I am not proud of myself. There’s one thing about not editing yourself, you take a chance every time you expose your inner insecure hunches.
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Tonight, my son asked me to read a paper he’s writing on this poem.
Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly, Asleep on the black trunk, blowing like a leaf in green shadow. Down the ravine behind the empty house, The cowbells follow one another Into the distances of the afternoon. To my right, In a field of sunlight between two pines, The droppings of last year’s horses Blaze up into golden stones. I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on. A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home. I have wasted my life.
James Wright
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I’ve personally always been aware of butterflies, of nature – of the beauty of life. But never expected an epiphany. And I personally think that’s what this poem is about.
So in one week, I collect my love from the airport.
I’m terrified.
Terrified because FINALLY something is SO important to me.
I’ve had important in the past … for different reasons. But as I drove home tonight, I had my Grammy’s 2003 CD in and listened to this:
I cried.
I thought about the life I built around Nic. And how he’s getting older – and changes are coming. Good changes, but changes none the less. I’ve always been terrified of change.
Nic is in college. Nic loves someone. Nic is always welcome ‘home’ but my gawd, if I didn’t have James, I don’t know what I would do. And what is more wonderful is I found a man, who understands that my boy is always welcome.
I also had forgotten about love.
True love.
The man I love, I loved a quarter of a century ago.
And finally, FINALLY, I get him.
I told his mom I would purchase cedar chips after she told me I could keep him.
So back to the poem.
Nic is writing a paper on it – and had theories to insert.
I read the poem after reading his intro.
He told me “I get my creative, writing side from you mom” (Insert heart swell moment there.)
But, the thing is – he is better.
And I was SO glad he was better!
I told him, about one of his theories, “I would never have thought of that!” And I wouldn’t have.
I love that he brings a new insight into my life.
I also love the comfortable importance of ‘the same.’
I have that.
With Nic, and with James.
We love most of the same things.
We laugh at most of the same things.
The rest is yet to be written.
Tonight, an owl alighted onto the cables outside my home.
I rushed inside for my camera! First time an owl hung out! – Wisdom alighted into view for crying out loud!
And last night, my dream dripped of new beginnings – of hope.
I love my son with my whole heart – and the crazy thing is – I’ve loved James for longer.
It’s a win-win. I get to approach this ‘new’ love with wisdom (thanks owl for visiting) and be with a love that appreciates my love for my son.
Both are endless.
And eternal.
And true.












