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.

Posts tagged ‘Creative Writing’

Maybe there won’t be marriage, maybe there won’t be sex, but by God there will be dancing!

What a great line from “My best friend’s wedding.”

Has life got you down?

Are you waiting and hoping for better days?

You think you’ve got it hard?

Where is your soulmate?

Why is your family so freakin’ dysfunctional?

Are holidays more like “Fight Club” then a joyous gathering of friends and family?

Where are those children you have been dreaming about for years or worse still why does your ex have them half of the day?

That lump in your breast that needs checking, is it cancer?

That bill you can’t pay this month or next?

The relationship you realize was never going to work to begin with?

The woman you can never do enough for to please?

You are a writer, an artist, a person bursting with creativity,

will  the world never see???

Are you dropping on your knees these days and wondering… why am I here at all?

You are not alone.

There is an old parable friends, and I do mean friends, because when I write this blog I know those of you who are reading it are just regular people like me.

Just doing the best you can in your life.

Anyway..old parable…

God heard the world crying over their hard lives.

All their myriad of problems.

He said,”Okay folks, here is the deal, everyone pack up all your cares and woes into big Hefty garbage bags and take them to the big football stadium at the edge of the city.

Then put those bags in the field, just pile them up there.”

Everyone did as the Lord said and sat on the bleachers looking at the mountain of their problems in life.

“Okay,”said the Lord,”Now everyone can choose any bag they want to take home with them and leave your own problems for someone else to take.”

Well what do you suppose the people did?

Everyone ran down to field and grabbed their own bag to take back home!

You never know what the next person is dealing with in life and your own problems and cares in life are tailor made for you.

Pick up your bag and take one step at a time.

And if it feels to heavy,

let God help you carry it.

There’s a good lesson here.

Now me,

believe me there is plenty I don’t blog about,

problems like we all have,

I  keep in my own four walls.

 I’ll be damned if they get the best of me.

So things might be tough,

life not easy,

but turn the music on anyway,

and dance.

For your own self,

if for no other reason,

dance!

…and as my mother used to say…

“Let the world spin itself today.”

Natural Childbirth: Hypnobirthing (Mom 2.0)

At the tail end of middle age,

here I am.

My eldest child, just now expecting her first child.

I am a grandmom twice.

This child having her own will complete a circle that I have waited for quite sometime.

My girl China, who made me into a mother.

Seeing her now take the place as mother to her own,

now that’s something special.

I will attend her at birth as I have with the other daugher and daughter-in-law,

and have done with hundreds of other babies over the past 18 years or so as a doula.

I have attended hypnobirths, Bradley births, c-sections, stillbirths and of course medicated births.

In hospital, at home and at birthing centers.

I have given birth 6 times myself plus one stillbaby born too soon.

All unmedicated births.

The last 3 using hypnotherapy.

I won’t claim to be an authority but I have a bit of experience under my belt,

so to speak.

China, invited me to her hypnobirth class.

I agreed.

A few couples sat in a semi darkened room with a candle lit.

The instructor sat cross-legged on a footstool with a pashmina across her shoulders like a prayer shawl,

and her hair hanging loose to her mid back,

a good look when you are 30.

Not so much at 55.

She proceeded to speak on birth without pain of any kind.

The contractions as “surges” and pushing as “so yesterday”.

Now as I mentioned I am all for Hypnobirthing.

I think it’s extremely helpful in attaining a natural childbirth if that’s the woman’s wish.

I held my tongue as she led the women through the “full dilation” (or pushing stage of labor) breathing.

“Ladies”, she quietly sang, “You gently breathe in, and breathe out,there is no drama of pushing ,or people coaching you to push your baby out, your baby comes out all on its own with no more effort than your gentle breath.”

Okay, I was done holding my tongue.

I can tolerate varying opinions and means to an end in getting babies born, but telling a group of first time expectant mothers that they won’t have to push their babies out, and that the experience will be pain-free is just plain horsepee.

It will be a sad day for these women when their babies descend low into their pelvis towards birth.

The time when the tendons stretch, and tissues, (it doesn’t matter if you massage in a gallon of evening primrose oil) stretch and often tear with the scope of the coming skull.

I’m not talking perineum here I mean the vaginal canal.

Never mind the “Ring of fire” (straight from a hypnobirth training manual to describe when the head emerges from mom’s body).

“Ring of Fire”

Hello!!!

It’s not called that for nothing!

Hypnobirthing can absolutely get a woman through labor and delivery with much “less pain” then just muscling through the contractions.

But pain-free it ain’t.

“Madam”, I said,”I have attended hundreds of births of all kinds and the disservice you are doing to this group of women appalls me.
Never in all my experience has even the most calm,the most ‘in control’ woman who has used hypnobirth didn’t say post-birth that it was the hardest thing she had ever done.”

I felt my daughter’s hand on my arm.

I was embarrassing her in front of her teacher and classmates.

“With all due respect”,I finished.

We left the class into the cold of the Silver Spring night.

I apologized to China who walked arm-in-arm with her husband.

“I couldn’t abide seeing you lied to,” I said,” Having a baby is going to be the greatest day of your life, a day you never forget, I won’t have someone build you up ridiculous expectations that may leave you feeling afterward like your body failed you.
That if you do end up choosing to take an epidural you will have failed at childbirth.
You are going to have 18 years to raise this child.
This is only one day in your life. Whether she comes natural, by epidural or section she is going to be the same baby. ”

“The truth is giving birth hurts.”

There I said it.

Of Mice And Men, Women And Children

Don’t let this video scare you the mouse wins!

I have been trying to help Rose with one of her college courses.

Psycho-analytical BS I think it’s called.

She has to read this book, Geo-political Architechture.

Just reading it is a challenge.

Understanding it a puzzle.

Some pompous, ESL meshuganeh definitely wrote it.

Translating English to English pain in the …

So there we are.

Cuddled up in bed, me reading, her looking somewhat dazed,

doodling on a notesheet.

Then we heard it.

Skittering little rodent feet across the ceiling.

OMG, I hate mice.

Nervy fellow kept running back and forth.

Rose said, “Don’t worry Ma it’s just one, we’ll get ’em.”

But you know the old saying, “If you see one there are ten.”

I hope they are mice and not rats…

Next day I’m off to Home Depot and perusing the kill section of the warehouse…nice.

Do I want to go guillotine and snap they little brains out or glue their little mouse feet to a board and watch them slowly die of starvation.

The little houses with poison inside, reminiscent of some Grimm’s Fairytale looks interesting.

“I was trapped in the witch’s house with no escape and nought to eat but a bit of funky smelling peanut butter.

Oh God I hate mice.

I went with a dozen snap traps.

But mice are smart.
Smarter then we humans realize.

I set the traps in groups of 4 along the walls where the small fur devils have been hanging out and although there are new sh#t bits the traps are not sprung.

So you want to play rough huh?

I devise a home-made trap with a bucket of water laced with bait and a dowel for easy access up the side for them to climb and take the fatal dive into the bucket.

Hopefully this will fool the ones who have been around for a while and are well acquainted with aforementioned old-fashioned snap traps.

I can hear them in their homes telling their young, “..and never ever go near those dumb-ass wooden squares you see around… But there is a bucket with food in it that looks like fun kids!”

I hate mice.

So it’s day four of the mouse kill.

No catches yet.

I get up early to start breakfast for the troops.

Let Cujo out to do his business.

Drink a quiet cup of coffee listening to Hoo start to stir in his crib.

Perhaps we and the mice can co-exist peacefully.

They are just mice for goodness sake.

Just wanting a warm place for the winter and some spilled dog food to eat.

As a child I even had a few as pets.

As I sip my coffee before the day officially starts memories of Michael Jackson singing “Ben” come to mind.

“Flowers For Algernon.”

And I realize with a start,

I can’t kill these mice…

Then I hear 2 traps snap shut in quick succession behind the breakfront.

The last swallow of coffee goes down hard.

25 Things You Didn’t Want To Know About Me.

1. I am still shocked when I see my mother in the bathroom mirror every morning.

2. I’m scary when I am mad.

3. I’m a Republican.

4. I always vote for Ralph Nadar.

5. I have no important possessions.

6. I have a gut understanding that everything is temporary.

7. I can’t remember my password for Facebook and can’t be bothered to retrieve it.

8. I’m not sure but I think Canada is just an extension of America.

9. I have a fear of crowds.

10. I teach.

11. I prepared for the ’72 Olympics in gymnastics.

12. I choked in the preliminary qualifying rounds for the ’72 Olympic team in gymnastics.

13. I love Eminem’s music.

14. I love the movie ‘Hair’ and watch it 2-3 times a year.

15. I know the score to “Rocky Horror Picture Show” by heart.

16. My dog Cujo has a twitter page.

17. I think the only thing dumber then Facebook is twitter.

18. I hate talking on the phone but I am okay with texting.

19. I razz telemarketers with, “You want to speak to the Lady of the house, (then call my dog loudly enough for them to hear,”Here Lady, here Lady.) Then pant into the phone.

20. I believe that if God can’t get my attention with a feather He will throw a brick at my head.

21. Television is my Valium.

22. I hate to travel.

23. I am an insomniac. You can call me day or night and I’ll be up, but I won’t answer.
Meet me in the backyard at 2 a.m.

24. Writing to me is like vomiting the trap grease out of my body. I feel better.

25. I collect great lines from classic films.

And with that I say, “Have fun storming the castle!”

There,.. I feel better…

I think.

Your turn.

What ‘dat??? What ‘dat???

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We are driven to distraction with,

Her endless toddling question,

“What ‘dat???,what ‘dat???”

“What ‘dat??? What ‘dat???”

It’s a ball.
It’s your bike.
It’s the garbage.
It’s your hairbrush….
It’s,it’s,it’s…

“What ‘dat??? What ‘dat???”

Oh Starlite, little sweet girl,
I can hear Rose teaching you to say,
“What the hell ‘dat???”

I have to agree,
the question in any other format
would be welcome at this point.

“What ‘dat??? What ‘dat???”

It’s your boppy.
It’s Daddy.
It’s your carseat.
It’s Cujo.

“What ‘dat??? What ‘dat???”

It’s your shoes.
It’s a kitty.
It’s the sky.
Airplane.
Bird.
Atmosphere.
Outerlimits….

Does it matter???

“What ‘dat??? What ‘dat???”

It’s a mirror.
Starlite,
see?

There is Starlite!

That’s you!
In the mirror,
that’s Star!

Holy cow!

The girl is quiet for one blessed second.

She turns and twists,
tilts her pretty head,
and smiles at herself,
never taking her eyes off of the mirror.

She sighs.

We turn on music,
and Starlite dances,
silently,
captivated by her
reflection.

It’s a universal truth come to two year old Starlite.

We find the answers when we find ourselves.

She need not ask anything,
It’s all there in the mirror,

We gather behind her,
and whisper,

“That’s you Star,
there you are.”

Just for Kicks : Computadora or Computador????

My darling daughter in law sent this to me.

Just for fun.

Have a laugh.

gmom and Cujo.

A SPANISH Teacher was explaining to her class that in Spanish, unlike English, nouns are designated as either masculine or feminine.

‘House’ for instance, is feminine: ‘la casa.’
‘Pencil,’ however, is masculine: ‘el lapiz.’

A student asked, ‘What gender is ‘computer’?’

Instead of giving the answer, the teacher split the class into two groups, male and female, and asked them to decide for themselves whether computer’ should be a masculine or a feminine noun. Each group was asked to give four reasons for its recommendation.

The men’s group decided that ‘computer’ should definitely be of the feminine gender (‘la computadora’), because:

1.. No one but their creator understands their internal logic;

2 The native language they use to communicate with other computers is incomprehensible to everyone else;

3. Even the smallest mistakes are stored in long term memory for possible later retrieval; and

4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending half your paycheck on accessories for it.

(THIS GETS BETTER!)

The women’s group, however, concluded that computers should be Masculine (‘el computador’), because:

1. In order to do anything with them, you have to turn them on;

2. They have a lot of data but still can’t think for themselves;

3. They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time they ARE the problem; and

4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that if you had waited a little longer, you could have gotten a better model…

The women won.

Send this to all the smart women you know…and all the men that have a sense of humor. 🙂

A Poem For Bear (Coldplay: Fix You)

Sadness clings  like a shadow,
Reaching for an endless hug,
that won’t be denied.

Restless, weary,
no understanding,
all children are sad.

Aren’t they?

Looking into a red fire truck,
for answers,
in a big world.
Where nothing makes sense.

Where is man?
Who this?
Why Ma cry?

Come to me,
Little-Bear,

Rock with me,
In the quiet of this corner,
I will hold this space for you,

I can be your familiar,
warm scent and sound,
I can be your safe space,

A constant presence,
in a chaotic crib,
I will quiet the storm around you,

and whisper peace into your ear.

I will stay with you,

For however long it takes.

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