raggedy bitch

so i am home with a child recovering from a night of throw up and fever. she responds like a champ to kids ibuprofen so right now she seems completely normal, like maddeningly normal. .  . but in 4.3 hours, when that dose runs out… its back to weep and groan and moan. . . so there. there is that.

i am mom, hear me roar. again.  this season has been ridiculous. RIDICULOUS.

its nice that so many years have passed of momming now… i get tired… but i’m not nearly as depleted as I was when it was new, and there were two under three… its a huge universe of different.

i’m not as ragged anywhere… sometimes i think back to that time and i wonder how i even got through it.  i was in a marriage that didn’t give me a feeling of safety, or any real sense of ‘break’… i was home with kids all the time and i was overwhelmed by all of it.  i was completely unsure that I existed, outside of what i ‘did’.

i was some kind of raggedy.

there is a real reservoir of peace in my life now.  it sits right next to the reservoir of fear that i also have.  twinning.

honestly, i can’t tell you if the peace pond has gotten deeper or if the fear reservoir is wider or if there’s more peace because the kids are older or because Hubs is out of the picture?  I mean, thats a whole lot of choice and powerful changes, right?

I was supposed to have a meeting with my Reiki teacher, chakra carol, today… but because of kid sickness it was cancelled.  I mean, if i had a dollar for every time i’d had to cancel something because of kids?  sheesh…

anyhow. so we talked on the phone and i bedazzled her with a million items to talk about before she waited me out to exhaustion. and then… things like this.

We are all on a journey to peace. we just don’t all know it.

Acknowledging the fear is the beginning of unraveling it.

I don’t have to go on a shamanic journey, naked in the desert, to deal with my fears, I just have to keep noticing them.  Noticing when I feel them, when I avoid them, what I think they might be…

and Not being ready doesn’t mean Never being ready.


So there are days like this, when little is done but laundry and a movie or two… and still, i can drift a thousand times more whole than i ever was before, and there is still work to be done. but here i am. existing.





words are good.(online dating benefit #1)

Break me down into syllables,

spread me out and

reshape me.

devour the movements you use.

speak only in eye flicks

and sideways smiles.

when i’m whole again, tell me you see me.


so, a man named Shannon wrote that.  for me.  i’ve never met him. so, i’m just saying… there are these hidden benefits to online dating, that i’m only just discovering now, after more than a year here in the online desert…. poetry.  words.  the joy i feel at sculpting phrase… sharing it with someone else? woah ho.

the weird thing is that.. i might never meet this person.. so its not ‘a romance’ but it is a poetic flingathon, and i love it.  its been years and years since i’ve played with words so much. . .

this morning i described my kid getting up for school like this:

the first one rises, a bubble to the surface, this child.

I walk in hesitation, as the pop is teenaged angst and eyeroll…

but love undercurrents sweep us all to and fro…


— its just so lovely to be writing like this… and you know i already write a bit loopy like with my metaphors and all, but to be part of a call-and-answer? pretty cool.  i just want it noted that there is at least one benefit to the morass of online dating. the interplay/ possibility of texttype being used as poem. sigh.

–i also joined a gym today. so obviously mercury is getting into the fray of delight and demonic.

gigantic freaking sigh. Potpourri of Valentine's Bouquet. unwifedmotherexpletive



i’m talking to myself as i walk through the house this morning, to myself, but in conversation with my kids (they are already at school).

I am talking to them about my dating, and the confusions I see in them about it.  The strange expectations they have. the mismatch between my romance and how it might effect them.   My hesitations to tell them stories, my separation of my ‘personal’ from my family.  I’m thinking too much about them, maybe. but then.   They’ve been through enough changes and I’m afraid of not being able to control this one.

that is the real root of it, right there.  I’m afraid of not being able to control things if I ever introduce another person to the mix. 0224191550

its been said, and it is true, that fear feeds on lies. and feeds us lies.

I’m not saying I’m introducing anyone.  I’m just saying that I may need to look into my feelings on this separation of church and state, because if fear is running my show, then I am doing some serious lying to myself.

lying. ugh. lies. and the lying liars who lie them.


what is it that I want to cultivate anyhow? FEAR?  hells bells . obviously no.

if I want to cultivate the LIGHT?  the HONEY DRIZZLED JOY?

what then?



sometimes i think i should have been a sex therapist.  i mean it… just a person who helps another to experience a frank, pleasurable activity, while delving into, and also healing whatever has caused the diffiulty.  because i love people and love is ultimately the best healer.  mostly when its directed at ourselves, and believed in.

sometimes i also think that i should have been a therapist for men who date online.  because there is a lot going on here. a whole lot.  some speed talkers, who text letter-long comments which show off a misunderstanding of intimacy, i think. … then there’s the guys who can barely text at all, and i envision very large fingers and tiny keys… who are also almost incommunicative in real life.

theres the photo gallery of men who think women want to know them by their fish-catching skills, or their car ownership abilities…. and you know, frankly, there probably are women who care about that stuff. i mean, i’ve heard that. 17 year olds in Wisconsin, for instance.

and i just want to help everybody out.  if i could just get a word in…

i wonder if i should raise my ‘ask me advice’ rates… and at least get my monthly fees for the dating service paid off… huh.

oh my god. i realized i removed that option. shitakes.


i’m putting it back.

listen, if anyone wants to get a handle on something, you just let me know.  i’ll not be working as a sex therapist, fyi. (guffaw-ing, chuckling and sneezing with my own hilarity…)

It should be in the upthere menu by the time i post this.  for real. and i raised my prices…

because i’m good. i really am.



try me.





Self-Check, and then WHAT? (bullets AND asterisks)

So. if one realizes that she is setting up dates just to avoid doing stuff by herself, then what?

should something be shifted?

STUPID ONLINE DATING again. and what it makes you think about.

  • i had two dates this weekend. technically three, but we mutually cancelled the third because it was too much of a hookup connection and that is easy, but not what i am looking for currently. boy* was nice that it was mutual, he’s probably a nice, but randy fellow.

  • i don’t really want to have two dates again this weekend. at the end of it all, i felt like my weekend had sort of been hijacked by the experience.  could’ve been the three sports events too… but sunday lunch getting the kids and being wiped out isn’t really my bag.

  • one of the dates was really nice. i would have liked to be invited out to dinner by him. he plants trees. no invite yet. and none coming. boy.**

  • the other date was also nice, but definitely an incompatible situation, and thats where i have to stop to maintain graciousness.

  • so, what? i’m… what? why do i feel like i need to make decisions? like, Decisions? wild directional changes because of a mundane and uninteresting weekend?


*can’t tell you how long its been since i ‘decided’ not to go for the easy.  damn. easy is way more fun than ego-bruising curiosity games.

**RESILIENCE!!   ….it takes me a good ten hours to get my ego back to a good spot (it being one of the first times i ever didn’t get a second date request…) … ten hours and then i can honestly say that it doesn’t have to do with me, as much as it does with him, what he is looking for and what he wants for his life, whatever that may be.   during that ten hours, though? boy.* i am full of the suckitude and the fears.  am i too fat now? am i not as funny as i think? am i too much of a mom? too much? too much? too much?

*** unconnected asterisks***   all the men i’ve had first dates with? it wasn’t about them, either. it was about me. and what i can handle, or not, or how much ‘drama’ i foresee in my pretend mind…. and some of them were really nice, and good. wanting a second date sucks. thats where the hard stuff actually is. (but also some more fun stuff.)

i want the fun stuff. I WANT THE FUN STUFF!