I really have much to write about, but again, too many things to do at one time.
The memory is a mine field and the bombs have been going off like mad.
I procrastinate writing this simple paper for yet another mind numbing class, and I IM my seriously funny son- the Avi-meister.
I just told him I was considering getting back on antidepressants from these mind weed troubles. He said go ahead, he'll start shooting heroin in return. End of topic. Eavesdrop if you want. read it, it's hilarious.
me: i dont see anythin
Avi: http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/expats/expats_news/article1009799.ece
Sent at 3:25 PM on Monday
me: funny, poor sonic
hey, could you guest host my blog?
I am too stressed out to blog
Avi: what?
youre trying to outsource your blog?
me: people do it all the time
Avi: im buying my blogsite today
www.avi-tellafriend.com
me: they should be free
Avi: whatever. 10 bucks a year.
me: i am serious, you know how to get in to my blog, just sign in to google as me, then hit my account and blogger
go tell them about the hedgehog and mom too stressed out to do anything or something
Avi: i have to work on my short story. anyways id just steal all your subscribers and redirect them to my page
me: AVI, I need to write this stupid paper
all 3 of my friends! ha
Avi: dont make a difference to me
ill steal em
me: OK, I am going to post before I write this dumb thing.
Avi: no youre not
write it now. because its your fault i procrastinate. its your parenting. lead by example bum
HA
me: you cannot blame that on me, no way not goin there
Ok help me
I have to write about open ended questions, the hypnotists style, not a problem
but
i have to create a survey topic, then create 3 open ended questions for it
give me a topic
i can do the rest
only a 2-3 pager
Avi: bird feeding
me: What can you tell me about bird feeding?
Have you ever created bird feeding places in your surroundings
Avi: i dont know. i dont feed a bitch, pigeons!
me: be serious you said do it so I am
should people feed birds?
OK that'll do, now we must quantify their answers, when respondents say I dont feed no pigeons we throw hedgehogs at them
Avi: yes. negative reinforcement
actively force and rewrite the homeostasis of the planet
me: no, it is positive reinforcement, taking away the hedgehog is negative, they have to have something subtracted
Avi: whatever
me: punishment is the throwing of the hedgehog
dammit now you are keeping me from my paper.
Sent at 3:41 PM on Monday
Avi: nope
im buying my website
youre wasting my time
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Monday, April 07, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Happy Birthday Minnie Me
For nine months I carried you and spoke to you and dreamed with you.
I thought you were a girl
I thought about naming you Mercy
I promised you I'd be there for you, love you, unconditionally forever.
I dreamed about the walks we'd take, the games we'd play, the friends you'd make
On the morning you were born
I awoke feeling stranger than normal, everything was glowing
golden lights danced around the room
I was restless and took a walk, to get things moving
Unsure if this was really the day, after the false labor ten days ago.
We lived in a remote mountain town, three thousand feet up, it was the round valley
Covelo, California
Pristine, idyllic, the long road into town was lined with cattle ranches, fence posts and cows.
Chilly January morning, I walked out into the morning dew, alone, with you
I wore the only dress I owned, the same one I had worn every day for the past several months. (yes I washed it in the evenings)
Running shoes, wool socks.
I smelled the sweetness of the mountain morning, mixed with damp field grasses and anticipation.
As I walked, the cows came to the fence by the road and in muffled snorting sounds they told me it was time, I'd be OK, I was crossing the threshold of motherhood. They were the sacred gatekeepers, they blessed us.
Two and half hours after the labor kicked in, you were born, sparkling blue eyes, and sunny side up.
I held you in my arms and cried.
So perfect, so beautiful, so wise.
I stayed awake the entire night, looking at you in awe.
Never had I met such a wise and pure soul.
But I knew you for eternity and loved you the same. You would look into my eyes, so small, pleading with me to protect you. I promised, but sometimes I have failed to keep my promises. Not because I didn't want to but because I didn't know how.
On the day you were born, I learned the true meaning of love. You are my precious baby boy.
Happy twenty-third birthday. I am so proud of you.
I thought you were a girl
I thought about naming you Mercy
I promised you I'd be there for you, love you, unconditionally forever.
I dreamed about the walks we'd take, the games we'd play, the friends you'd make
On the morning you were born
I awoke feeling stranger than normal, everything was glowing
golden lights danced around the room
I was restless and took a walk, to get things moving
Unsure if this was really the day, after the false labor ten days ago.
We lived in a remote mountain town, three thousand feet up, it was the round valley
Covelo, California
Pristine, idyllic, the long road into town was lined with cattle ranches, fence posts and cows.
Chilly January morning, I walked out into the morning dew, alone, with you
I wore the only dress I owned, the same one I had worn every day for the past several months. (yes I washed it in the evenings)
Running shoes, wool socks.
I smelled the sweetness of the mountain morning, mixed with damp field grasses and anticipation.
As I walked, the cows came to the fence by the road and in muffled snorting sounds they told me it was time, I'd be OK, I was crossing the threshold of motherhood. They were the sacred gatekeepers, they blessed us.
Two and half hours after the labor kicked in, you were born, sparkling blue eyes, and sunny side up.
I held you in my arms and cried.
So perfect, so beautiful, so wise.
I stayed awake the entire night, looking at you in awe.
Never had I met such a wise and pure soul.
But I knew you for eternity and loved you the same. You would look into my eyes, so small, pleading with me to protect you. I promised, but sometimes I have failed to keep my promises. Not because I didn't want to but because I didn't know how.
On the day you were born, I learned the true meaning of love. You are my precious baby boy.
Happy twenty-third birthday. I am so proud of you.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
The Road to Recovery
I think it must be happening; I may be recovering from the syndrome.
Two days ago, I ran from job to job to appointment to errand and in between my last errand and my violin lesson, I stopped in to say 'see you later' to the boy. He's headed to a certain university in New York city.
Clean shaven, packed and ready, he stands in Maggie's living room. Cicadas' symphony berates my ears, but I hear him say "Everything I need to start my new life, right here."
One large borrowed suitcase, one backpack, one pillow and one sleeping bag.
I didn't have to give the lecture; the drugs, the drinking or the sex lecture, he doesn't seem to need it anymore. Experience shows me, I've lain a strong foundation; it's up to him and god now, and fate, maybe fate too.
I missed the chance to have lunch with him, we were both too busy, so I walked to the fig tree in the garden. The sweet ones were too high for me to reach, but he hardly had to stretch to reach them for me.
They have grown sweet and he,tall.
Ok, he says as he hugs me and kisses the top of my head, I love you.
I love you too, I think, but I cannot speak just yet. I hold on to keep from falling. How did all of those years go by so quickly? My head is spinning, a vortex of pride, anticipation and grief.Yes grief. If only we could do it all over again, this time I would be better.
I hear his voice, before it changed. The way he called my name, Mom. I remember my own feelings of newness and excitement edged in a lining of fear of the unknown and unexpected future when I left home for the first time. He feels them now, but it isn't his first time leaving.
A few years ago, it was Boston, fifteen hours away.
I cried the entire drive home.
"I love you too." I said and turned quickly to my car.I didn't want him to see me cry.
I only cried for a few minutes and said to myself, I think you're getting better at this empty nest thing.
But now as I stand here typing these words on my keyboard with tears rolling down my cheeks and a lump in my throat that often accompanies a good cry, I know I am kidding myself.
Is there any emotion more painful than this love?
Two days ago, I ran from job to job to appointment to errand and in between my last errand and my violin lesson, I stopped in to say 'see you later' to the boy. He's headed to a certain university in New York city.
Clean shaven, packed and ready, he stands in Maggie's living room. Cicadas' symphony berates my ears, but I hear him say "Everything I need to start my new life, right here."
One large borrowed suitcase, one backpack, one pillow and one sleeping bag.
I didn't have to give the lecture; the drugs, the drinking or the sex lecture, he doesn't seem to need it anymore. Experience shows me, I've lain a strong foundation; it's up to him and god now, and fate, maybe fate too.
I missed the chance to have lunch with him, we were both too busy, so I walked to the fig tree in the garden. The sweet ones were too high for me to reach, but he hardly had to stretch to reach them for me.
They have grown sweet and he,tall.
Ok, he says as he hugs me and kisses the top of my head, I love you.
I love you too, I think, but I cannot speak just yet. I hold on to keep from falling. How did all of those years go by so quickly? My head is spinning, a vortex of pride, anticipation and grief.Yes grief. If only we could do it all over again, this time I would be better.
I hear his voice, before it changed. The way he called my name, Mom. I remember my own feelings of newness and excitement edged in a lining of fear of the unknown and unexpected future when I left home for the first time. He feels them now, but it isn't his first time leaving.
A few years ago, it was Boston, fifteen hours away.
I cried the entire drive home.
"I love you too." I said and turned quickly to my car.I didn't want him to see me cry.
I only cried for a few minutes and said to myself, I think you're getting better at this empty nest thing.
But now as I stand here typing these words on my keyboard with tears rolling down my cheeks and a lump in my throat that often accompanies a good cry, I know I am kidding myself.
Is there any emotion more painful than this love?
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