time has changed me

time, among other things, is changing me. the love i have for and feel from my husband continues to grow and evolve with every month that passes. my love for small animals, especially this little raccoon of my own, changes into something i never knew imaginable. i used to make fun of pet owners who think their pets have personalities, and who like to pretend they know what their pet is thinking, and i do that every day. i miss kingsley when i'm gone and it breaks my heart when he is sick. it is showing me, again, that focusing on others brings happiness.

i often hear people say they are focusing on finding who they are, and that they don't want to lose who they are when they become a mother. but as for me, i don't believe my work or hobbies will ever be exactly who i am. who i am is a complex girl who belongs to the church of jesus christ of latter day saints. i am married to an incredible person and together we are helping each other be more patient, more prayerful, more thankful, more kind, and of course have more fun. family is everything to me. if nothing else, to raise a family (along with seeing my own parents and siblings every chance I get) and be with them and learn from one another and make each other laugh and show each other that God is real, that He lives and is all around us. living to find those happy moments and those times for growth and change and finding friendship wherever we may be. and praying for what is right for me and for us and not about what other people should or should not be doing.

Do you see this? Patiently waiting for his turn to type 

Pen in paws (and mouth, but still)

I really wasn't going to push him to become a writer, but I can't turn away what he's trying to tell me!

There are so many words in my head it's starting to result in the lack of the right one. Every other word is a, "What's that word again... you know... I just can't explain it."

If I let it all out in to-do list format, it will allegedly get better. But you're talking to the connoisseur of to-do lists. I've got a note book filled and I know that by examining what you have in front of you comes a sort of release, but an added weight and responsibility in another way. Day-to-day lists are necessary and daunting, and so far this term (we're at Week 6... wait maybe 5 or 7...?) I haven't done it and I've just been flighting from day to day thinking only about the hour that is in front of me.

I'm weeks behind my favorite television shows and I can't even entertain the thought of when it might be that I can watch them. To snuggle on the couch with my love and purring Kingsley would mean the world. They say when you are doing what's right the unnecessary things in your life slip away and I can attest to the truth of that; I don't want the alternate world of television to become what I live for. But some of the basic things I need for my sanity and spirituality are slipping away too and I need to get them back.

Three cheers to sanity in a beautiful kind of way, retrieving my floating head, and having the best Valentines Day yet. To that I raise my glass, of water, which might just be my lunch and dinner today.

alive

i look around me and wonder
how people are alive

their sleep deprivation
over-worked
soda and sugar consuming
sometimes heart broken
selves

how do we do it?
it's intriguing and insightful

and it's beautiful.

we can take a lot, you know
do you?

and we have a lot of help, you know
do you?
do you say "thank you"
enough?
ask and seek for what you need?

or do you wonder in all consuming doubt
how in the world we stay
alive

a rainy day.

Yesterday was gloomy: full of self doubt and confusion. It happens, I know. But in those moments it is hard to think about anything else. And then all other things tumble and you start to go from "I have a hard test tomorrow" to "I can't cook anything right" and then to blaming someone you love "Why do you never do this or this or this?" When really none of that is true.

Honing in on a positive emotion at those times is something I am working on. I have to look around and remember how I make meaning and why.

I went to a reading by author George Venn from his latest memoir, and in his essay "The Red Weasel Dream" he described my dream house:

"White one story bungalow.. [with] dazzling flower beds, curbed green lawn.. an ordered oasis... a mini plantation mansion"

That is a group of so many things that make me happy all in one: a home, flowers, an ordered oasis.

I started to think about the home I grew up in that we refer to as "the red roofed house." It was a haven of colors. The front covered in flower beds with tulips, bleeding hearts, daisies, and more. A yard so green the size of a football field. The snowball bush that served as so much entertainment when those white flowers would come and we could scatter them about the lawn in pretend weddings. Those cottonwoods so big that when you slept on the tramp under the stars you realized how small you really were, yet how empowering mother nature can make you feel.

Sometimes I wonder why we ever left that house. And then I knew as soon as I wondered. I needed those opportunities and experiences that a new school brought. Moving from that house gave us the freedom to move again, and luckily it brought us to the other side of the state where I met my sweetheart and life forever changed for the better. We trade these precious material things and safe havens for experience that ultimately shapes us into who we are. It is trying and it is humbling.

I hope that next time on a rainy day you will find that colorful place, whatever it may be.