Here on the frontier, There are falling leaves, Although my neighbors are all barbarions…And you? You are a thousand miles away. There are always two cups on my table.

Archive for the ‘Boundaries’ Category

Let Go And Let God

Demolition of a small hut in our backyard.

It was a hard job.

Husband told me to leave it be.

But it was a fair Sunday,  and baby Hoo was sleeping.

So I took up a hammer.

Being unfamiliar with demolition I circled the hut a few times just swinging the hammer and thinking ,

“How do I do this?  How do I do anything?  I just do it.

Piece by piece.  Board by board.

Husband came home surprised to see the hut gone.

“You did that ? You couldn’t take down the hut!”

I could and I did!

It’s like my big sis taught me years ago when we got a rejection letter from a private school for one of my boys. She said,”What are you crying about, grow up, no does not mean no.”

Really?

She was right. I fought for an acceptance for my son and he went to that school.

Don’t tell me what I can’t do.

Oh but the  seismic challenges of the last few months.

A son losing his way.

A daughter walking into a relationship that was so very wrong.

The evil pain creeping from my back to my leg and settling in my foot.

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Let go and let God.

That I have learned, and this I know.

Challenges?

Get out of my f**king way.

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Son.  My beating heart.  Keep your head up.

Love and service, baby. Keep saying it.

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Pretty little girl will one day see that love knows no bounds. Only time and distance lets children scope the scene of their sad day when parent wrenched their sorry behind away from trouble.

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My personal enemy? The creeping fire.  Pain.

I will walk through it to drop to my knees so baby boy Hoo can reach me,  and I him.

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It was a fair Sunday.

The hut needed demolition.

I took up the hammer and brought the hut down.

Just let me pull nails, and crack wood.

Let me struggle under the weight of heavy wood.

This is gmom,

peace out.

I Need You Mom. No I Don’t. Yes I do.

Rose. Age 21. Daughter number 3, sixth child.

Fell off a moped during the final afternoon of labor day  beach vacation.

Broke both right forearm bones.

Road Rash” up and down her legs.

Drove her back to Baltimore to Union Memorial Hospital and the best upper extremity surgeons on the East Coast.

Now she has some hardware in her arm. A plate, pins and screws pulling the broken pieces all together. It’s been a long couple of weeks.

Before her surgery, she cried. I spoke softly to her and said the prayers from her childhood to comfort her.

After her surgery I slept by her. Gave her the pain medications, help her with all her needs, took her to the doctor and made repeated calls to him when she had questions.

I wiped her tears as she saw the track surgical scar run down her arm and the new shape of the back of her hand.

I handled the insurance company, her school medical leave letters and hooked her up with a decent physical therapist.

Now it’s 3 weeks post-op and the girl is back to normal.

Offended if I ask her if she wants me to cut a tag off the back of her shirt.

The cuddle-muffin who lay in my bed night after night is angry that I appeared at her PT appointment.

Miss Independent is back and I am left wondering if that momentary bond we shared when she was in pain and scared ever really happened.

Where Is My Happy Place? Can I Borrow Yours?

Have you ever been told to go to your happy place?

Go in your mind to the one place on earth that you most want to be,

A beautiful beach.

A mountain meadow.

A rolling hillside in Ireland.

A holy place you once visited and never forgot.

So many times I’ve coaxed women, who in the clutches of labor pain to envision their happy place and go there.

I’ve spent hours whispering to them words of encouragement, that they can endure, that they can breathe through the most intense pain, and most often they do. I leave them holding their perfect beautiful infant at the breast.

In the last few weeks, so many people have told me to go to my happy place.

I’ve searched for it. I’ve even tried physically to go there.

What a crock.

I’ve gone through 6 labors unmedicated.

I’ve had my spinal nerves ablated.

I’ve done it before, I’ve found the strength to go …somewhere.

But now…I’m lost.

My happy place must have gone with the recession.

I can’t feel my strength, my breath.

How can I find my happy place if I can’t find myself.

Where did  I go ?

Down The Rabbit Hole

For all  of you following my blog husband is still away overseas.

Here is what has changed at  home while the man who holds the string of your kite is gone.

Number one: You might accidentally kill one or  2 of your children.

Normally, in the night Bart comes in, he drives ones of the biofuel trucks and comes in at 3 or 4 a.m. I’ll half wake up and hear him kick off his shoes, shuffle into the shower, scrounge around the kitchen and go to bed.

But without husband here, I immediately reach for the gun.

I go up the stairs gun poised, ready to defend against any intruder. It never dawns on me that Cujo is upstairs happily bopping around.

Bart turns and sees me. Without a word he takes the gun out of my hands, removes the clip and tells me to go back to bed before I hurt myself.

Okay,sorry.

Number 2: You might let your guard dog sleep on your husband’s $200 Brooks Brother’s robe, maybe even on the bed.Everyone needs to be special sometimes.

Number 3: You might stop taking showers  often. I mean what’s the point? This goes for changing into nighties as well.

Number 4: You may suddenly realize that a plate of french fries makes a perfectly good dinner, even better while eaten in front of the TV.

Number 5: You may realize that you don’t have to water the “effing lawn everyday, or pick up your dog’s  poop. I mean who made these rules anyway? Poop is organic..it’s like compost.

Number 6: Turns out you don’t have to go and check on your neighbor just because it’s 103F outside. Just a big “ole, hope you’re still alive Edna!  Yelled out an open window does just fine.

Number 7: You have the opportunity to go though all husband’s secret guy stuff. Unfortunately this has yielded nothing! Nothing!

I hope this give you some good ideas for the next time your superhero flies off.

This is gmom.

Down the rabbit hole.

peace out.

Sex Offender Registry: Check Out Your Neighborhood Today!

One should feel safe in their own neighborhood, wouldn’t you agree?

 In my zip code there are 157 registered sex offenders.

 People (if you can call them that), that have raped children, hurt them

 sexually and get their nuts off on trading pictures of naked children. 

The second thing that bugs me are the innocent parents who stupidly put their children out on nthe sidewalk hailing down cars to buy a cup of lemonade.

I stopped today by a little girl to buy a cup.

 I never got out of my car. She reached in the car window to hand me the cup.

I held back the the money so she had to reach in again.

I asked her, “If I wanted to know your name, or how old you were or where you lived, what would you say?”

“Well I live right here at 34 Ivy Drive, I’m 8 years old and my name is Emily.”

You’re a smart girl. Where’s your mama.

I went to the door.

I tried as gently as possible to talk with the mom.  This neighborhood just isn’t safe for her child to be on the street like that.

“Oh I am watching her from the window.”

Lady, while you’re watching from the window. I’ve hauled her into my car.

Think about it.

I left with a loud “Who in the hell do your think you are!!!” Ringing behind me.

157 registered sexual offenders in my zipcode.

How many in yours?

This is gmom,

peace out.

Ah the joys of nothingness………..

Damn dog.

Down Cujo.

Down!

We Are Family Like That

When my brother’s fatal prognosis was told to our family. We were grouped together surrounding his wife. Hands all around her. On shoulders. On knees. Supporting and holding.

We are family like that. We hold each other up.

We listened intently to everything the doctor was saying not noticing my mother walking away. My elder sister noticed first.

Where is Mom?

We went to the hospital hallway and saw my mother running down the hospital hallway.  For myself, I had a moment of wanting to let her go. She had the right idea. Run Mom Run. But there was no where to run to. We went after her. Like the Keystone cops. We caught her, crying and struggling, out of control. We surrounded her. Someone brought a chair.

It’s okay mom, it’s okay,it’s going to be okay…

We put hands all around her. Held her. Supported her.  All of us, Including my sister in law.

We are family like that.

Now I understand why she ran.

But there really is no running from life.

These 5 revitalizing days alone at the beach have reminded me, that I am not alone in my struggles.  I have hands all around me. Holding me. Supporting me.

We are family like that.

Things You Should Try At Least Once (or not)

This is actually two topics in one. I have run away from home. The pressure cooker of some home events drove me to take the sage actions of a friend and skedaddle to higher ground for a breather.

So I write to you from the beachfront. I am watching the waves rolling inexorably into the shore. I am eating bagels and cream cheese with lox, the TV is turned on a rerun of Project Runway, I have a six-pack of beer cooling on ice.

It’s all wrong, but exactly what I need. A  short break from a difficult reality. Hubby didn’t exactly give me his blessing, but I did notice he put the ‘easy-pass’ in my car’ and called to check up on me a few times. All good. This is working for me.

So Rose and I, you know Rose, my 21-year-old? Works full-time and goes to college full-time? My own little overachiever. She and I were discussing things you should try at least once in your life.

We settled on:

Sky diving

Scuba diving

Rock climbing

Bungee jumping

Singing in front of a crowd

Go surfing in Malibu

Visit India

Climb an active volcano

Participate in Burning Man

Now of course we then went on to name a bunch of things we thought we wouldn’t try.

So here is that list too. Be sure to add yours in.

We wouldn’t try cocaine or heroin. One time may be one time too many.

We wouldn’t…

Get a big ‘name tattoo’  on our face.

Run a marathon. (ewwwww)

Join a ‘hold your breath’  under water contest.

Run naked through church.

Read War And Peace. Uh no.

See the Taj Mahal. I seen it in Las Vegas it ain’t all that!

Backpack through the rainforest. No No No.

Learn an indigenous language. I’ll stick to pig-Latin.

Listen to Enya for 5 hours straight. Just shoot me instead.

Give someone directions, even though you have no idea where they are going.

Get drunk and ruin someones special day.

Photocopy your butt. Why do people do that???

Join a self-help group. I actually did that once with my sister and they kicked us out for laughing.

Last but not least, marry someone you met in an online dating site who you have only met one time. Don’t ask! I know someone who did this. What a disaster.

So there you go kids.

What are your ideas. Hmmm?

This is gmom,

at the beach,

watching the waves and wondering,

why do I live in the city????

Peace and I am outa here!

Things We Say To Our Kids/ Dad And Momisms

10 Things I say to my children, and 10

things my mother said to me.

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1. Call me when you get there.

2. Clean up, I am not the maid here.

3. You want to leave? Do you need help packing?

4. Wait until your father gets home.

5. You only have to be tall enough for your feet to reach the ground.

6. Don’t smart mouth me young man (lady).

7. You’re going to take an eye out with that thing.

8. You can’t take care of anyone else if you don’t take care of yourself first.

9. It doesn’t matter what other people think,you can’t control that.

10. Don’t tell me to mind my business, you are my business.

and…

1. How do you know it tastes bad you haven’t tried it yet?

2. If you don’t have something pleasant to say, don’t say anything at all.

3. It’s for your own good.

4. No one said life was going to be fair.

5. What if all your friends were jumping off a cliff would you jump too?

6.  If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t say anything.

7.  It’s never going to heal if you don’t stop picking.

8. Be home before dark.

9. Put other people’s needs before your own.

10. Mind your own business.

Now which group of 10 were my 1950-1970’s mother and which are mine?

What do you say to your kids?

What did your mom say to you?

This is gmom,

peace out.

Don’t Make Me Call Donald Trump!

If the white house news reports and the subsequent  inconsistencies regarding the raid on Osama Bin Laden‘s compound haven’t caught your attention then maybe you’ve just been too busy with your own life to follow it.

I’m going to link you here to The Roycroft Report which is not fully comprehensive but does offer a nice even handed overview from a swell guy.    http://jroycroft.wordpress.com/2011/05/04/obama-cant-get-the-bin-laden-story-straight/

Here’s my take.

People who have nothing to hide, hide nothing.

Did anyone wonder why it took a “carnival barker” like Donald Trump to make enough noise to finally get the president to choke up a birth certificate?

I laughed at Trump. I am not laughing anymore.

I’m thinking maybe Trump who, oh yeah, lives a whole lot more comfortable then gmom, might know something I don’t.

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So we don’t get to see pictures of the raid on Osama Bin Laden’s compound in Pakistan  cause it might be inflammatory to Muslim extremists.

What about us?

All the raid news information is coming straight from the white house. They are the sole source.

They have the pictures and the sound reel and still can’t get the story straight?

This does not make sense.

Where is Donald Trump when you need him.

Does it take a carnival barker to get us the answers we have a right to?

May God keep you safe.

This is gmom,

peace out.

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