If I wait

If I wait for something exciting to happen, I might never blog again.

I did have a great time recently going to Chicago with my parents. Chicago. The town in which I was born. We visited the old apartment complex - well really, I stood outside of the cab in the snow and took a picture while they stayed in the cab and gave their respects.

I love spending time with my parents. I know it's a gift to have two parents who are my friends. I would rather hang with them than just about anyone. They took me to some fab restaurants for some great dinners.

And - most of all - we saw WICKED! Oh my God. Loved it. I love the book, I love the musical. I used to think I wasnted to play Elphaba before I died. But now I realize that I really would love to play Madame Morrible. What a great character! I've been singing Wicked music for weeks now.

The three of us stayed on Michigan Ave (in the Marriott) and went shopping at Macys! We had a great time and I'm thankful for the time we spent together.

And then Saturday I took Andrew to see the Nutcracker at the Colorado Ballet. Lovely. I had never seen it. We both agreed the first "half" was the best. I loved the costumes most of all. All of these great performances remind me that I need to make time to go to the theater more. And there's some great stuff coming to Denver in 2009.

Happy Late Thanksgiving.

Old Friends

So many old friends!

Through the latest and greatest social networking sites I have encountered a lot of old friends. Old loves - old crushes - old buddies - old soul mates.

I almost can't believe how some of them have found me and I them. There are the stories of warning: I reconnected with one old love, only to disconnect a few weeks later. But, truthfully, it was an intense (and lovely) few weeks of reconnection.

I've reconnected with old friends - old crushes - some of whom don't look anything like I remember. Some of whom are sick. Some of whom are grouchy. Some of whom have welcomed me home with open arms.

Old best friends from college - dear ones I thought I would never lose - but those I had lost - are now found and celebrated.

Best friends I have lost and found number of times are still around and willing to engage in newness.

And it seems that more and more I can guess that if I search for an old friend, and they are not there yet, they will be within a week or so. I just "added" a friend of mine from camps/high school/college and I loved just seeing a picture of him with his baby!

And best friends I have always been with, always loved - those who have stuck with me through all of this - they're on there too and even with them, I know more about what happens with their day to day than when we only had the phone.

I guess I'm just being thoughtful - seeing F on here really made me smile. As do all my old friends. As do you.

Snow

It snowed last night. Finally! Living in Colorado, waiting for snow is like trying to scratch an itch you can't reach or control. We wait and wait. And it itches and itches. And I'm not a skiier or boarder - I just know that snow means winter. And winter is a big part of life in colorado. Every day past Halloween that it doesn't snow, folks here get a little anxious. It's like we know it's coming so come on already! And here it is.

Of course, a little snow in November doesn't mean the end of 60 degree days. Heck, a little snow in January doesn't mean that either. Yesterday it was 63 and I wore a long sleve shirt. Today, 32 and a coat. God, I love Colorado.

I downloaded some good ol' Brewer and Shilpey on my Zune last night. I heard them long ago in Kansas City at an outdoor concert. I didn't see them because we were listening over a wall. But I still remember hearing their music and falling in love. You've got to love a duo that come up with the line "one toke over the line, sweet Jesus." I mean, many of their songs are spiritual with a good dose of pot. Love it! It amazes me that I can carry around this tiny music maker (my Zune) with music that 10 years ago I could only hear on an album. A record. Remember those?

For a sweet while, my dear friend Lanie and I scoured vintage stores for records - old folkies like B&S, Melanie, JT, Carole King...I loved the hunt and I loved the reward. Beautiful music I listened to on my little turn table which reminded me of my Hippie self.

I miss her, sometimes, that old hippie me.

back to school

It's back to school time again. As I took A to his new 2nd grade class this past Tuesday, I flashed forward to three years from now - his 5th grade year and the final grade at that school. I could see us - him trying to keep me from embarassing him - and me trying to say "I love you" in a subtle way. And I felt now what I will feel then - it all goes by too quickly.

I have a number of friends all along the family raising spectrum. Friends with no kids, a new baby, a teenager, a grown family. And we all feel the same way - "Somebody tell us what to do and then stop time so we can get it done before this little stage is all over." I guess I'm just feeling a little bit of mortality and life stage angst.

Things have been changing for me recently - I'm feeling a big ol' push to get out of my rut...my well lived in and well loved rut. It's a safe place. I know who is going to show up and I know what they're going to do. It's me all the way. Especially when A is gone to his dads. Nothing much goes on and I'm mostly waiting around for him to come home so I can laugh some more. God, it sounds so sad when I see it all in black and white like this.

But I've learned some lessons recently, the biggest one being that when you trust someone to make a decision, don't be surprised when they make the right one. Sometimes we all hope for wrong decisions, I think. Well, for others to make wrong decisions. We don't plan on making them ourselves. And it surprises us when we do.

So I'm ready for fall. For good decisions and new friends. For 2nd grade innocence and fart jokes (he is 7 after all). I'm ready to embrace what's coming and celebrate what I've had. And I'm a bit wiser, too. Although, don't expect too much yet. I've still got a furnished rut I'm trying to sell. Anyone?

Connections

I've been thinking a lot about connections the past two days. My first true love (ah, youth) contacted me on facebook after 16 or so years. I've been thrown back into a memory tailspin ever since. It's amazing to me that remembering comes so easily. It's like I saw him yesterday - I can still picture places we went and things we did. The relationship wasn't all roses. Hell, I was 17 when it started and he was 15 (yes, a younger man). But there is something sweet and innocent about the memories which have wrapped me up in a soft quilt of remembering.

And it's true, this type of connection hasn't been possible for long. Our social networking is growing by leaps and bounds. I guess the husband of a woman I grew up with is one of my old flames close friends. Or at least one of his facebook friends. Amazing the full circle-ness of it all.

And am I happy he contacted me? Yep. There's been some sort of healing the sorts of which I wasn't even aware I needed. He sent me a balm which is closing some open hurts - nothing that I could say has been bothering me for the past 16 years - but I cared so deeply for him it's nice to hear the I'm sorry.

And the truth is, it's giving me an opportunity to return to days I've long forgotten and remember myself, so full of hopes and promise, as I approach my 40th birthday. There is still some of that young girl inside of me and I'm happy to visit with her a while and walk with her into the what's next.

Thanks.

True Colors

Well, I've been gone from home for a long, long time. And, I'm leaving again day after tomorrow. I'm tired. But surprisingly, I'm doing quite well in the fibromyalgia department. Yay!

I went with my sister-in-law (my favorite concert sistah) to the True Colors Tour concert last Sunday night and it was incredible! I mean, come on...Joan Armetrading, Rosie Odonnell, Cyndi Lauper, Carson Kressley and my fave - the B-52s. At Red Rocks. You wish you had been there, right?

Everyone there was in love with each other. It was a benefit for the Human Rights Campaign and PFLAG. Love it!

On the way home we (my sistah and I ) talked about being real and how it is so difficult to find groups of people you can totally be yourself around. I struggle with this and the Church. We try so hard to be perfect - and fail - that we assume everyone else is perfect. While they're just failing also. What would it be like if we all dropped our perfect facade and were laid bare before each other. I don't know. I think it would take a revolution of sorts. We could begin with self-love and acceptance. And we could promise each other that through each day we would try to remember that we are all "Everyday People".

You show me your truth and I'll show you mine.

Really? Do you think we could?

Ready
Set
GO!

Of headaches, family reunions, and Paradise

It's been a busy summer thus far and we're still in its infancy. A couple of weeks ago, just as school got out, A got the worst headache he's ever had (at 10:30 p.m.). I decided to take him to urgent care - he got sick in the car - and when we got there he was in desperate, screaming pain. After some meds to calm his stomach and ease his pain, the lovely Dr. Mike told me that he felt A needed to have a CAT scan to check for brain bleeding or tumors. NOW. So I took A to the hospital where another lovely Dr. took great care of us. A actually slept through the scan which was short. His brain came out looking perfect (thank Goddess) and we were sent home with a migraine diagnosis and some meds to have in our migraine "toolkit."

The whole experience was interesting for me in many ways. I was alone with A in the middle of the night and the Drs were so kind and compassinate. It is much different being a patient vs. being mama. As a patient, the Dr always is introduced as Dr. last name. As a mama, they were both Dr. first name. As a patient, there is always suspision, especially as someone who needs pain meds to exist in the world. Often, you are treated as med seeking. As a mama, especially on your own, you are supported and treated with care. The whole experience, while scary and stressful, gave me hope in the medical profession.

And A is doing fine and better.

I promised family reunions and Paradise but, alas, dinner time is here and it will have to wait.

Peace

summer time blues

Ok, I'm not really blue. But sometimes I get a little worried about summer. Being a single mom and having A home a lot more is exciting and nerve producing all at the same time. I want to be super mom and always have great ideas and be prepared for taking A on fun adventures. But sometimes I'm so tired and a nap seems to be all I can get done. One of the best things about A being with his dad is that they do a lot of outdoor activities which I can't seem to do.

It's an internal struggle I have and not just while I'm with A. There's always something I would like to be doing and rarely do I have the stamina or gumption.

I need to take things one day at a time and do what I have the power to do (I don't think I came up with that one). Fibromyalgia can be soul sucking and I often give it that power.

So I resolve to give myself a break this summer. To try some new things, to push myself when I can. I will rest when I need to and dance whenever possible. I will meet some new people and snuggle with A a lot. I will try to live as if I had the energy I did when I was 29. Oh, wait...I didn't have energy then, either. Ok...cut that last one.

Heck, you know what I mean.

Peace

Raccoon Love

I am finally ready to tell the tale of my raccoon (or as I have come to call her, the other woman). It all started four weeks ago when the lovely gentlemen I hired to put new siding on my house ripped into the chiminey and found HER. Oh, and her five babies, eyes not yet open. I had known about a raccoon which had visited last year and a few hundred dollars later had been trapped and moved to another part of the state. Only to return a few weeks later with a vengence. But then winter came and she was gone.


But here she was. Maybe the same raccoon, maybe different. But no matter, a mother none the less. I wish those intrepid workers had moved her babies away from the house (you can touch them and they will still take care of the babies.)

She lived there for three noisy weeks. At some point, critter control found her babies and rescued them (for a measley $499.99). Apparently, there are people in the world who enjoy raising up baby raccoons and then setting them free (probably to come back to torture those who live in the house where they were born but that is yet to be seen.)

She made noise. She taunted me. She chewed her way into my game closet and peed all over A's kindergarten art work which was stored there. She peed on my games. She peed on my pictures. My life turned into smelly raccoon pee.

And we tried to trap her. Live traps of course. She played with them at night. Knocking them around with her nose or paws, banging on the roof right over my bed. I turned into a crazy woman who took to yelling "you're ruining my life" at her whenever I heard her. No response from her, of course. But I could swear I heard raccoon chuckling as I was fading to sleep each night.

And then my friend Jana gave me an idea. And I did it. One night, just before bed, I opened that closet door and yelled: "Raccoon mama, I have a friend named Jana. And she has a friend who has a gun. If you don't find your way into my trap so I can re-locate you peacefully, I'm going to have him come and remove you himself." I didn't tell her what he would do with the gun. I figured she would probably know.

I was bluffing of course. Sort of. I don't believe in guns. But, really, I don't believe in raccoon pee either. Turns out, however, they both exist.

She was in the trap the next morning. No joke.

Happy mother's day mama. And to all you mothers who have to pee in someone else's closet just to get by, here's hoping you find freedom, sunshine, and a home of your own.

Pain in the #$%^$!

Well, it's official...my knee, which has been hurting for a few weeks...has a problem. I have a knee "problem". I went to amazing rheumy doc today to have her look at my knee and possibly get a cortizone shot. She agreed that the shot was a good idea
(although she wouldn't have thought of it herself) and in the process of having a needle ground around in my knee, she removed a bunch of fluid. Surprise! Not a fibro problem, a "knee problem". So I'm to sit and rest for a week (which I will do as I'm traveling to KC!) and see if it gets better. If it does, good. If it doesn't, voila, problem.

The bigger issue for me is that once again, A has to deal with a mommy with an unidentified pain issue. He's been through my cut hand which needed stiches, my broken ankle which needed surgery, my broken hand and wrist - surgery again. I know he just waits for the other shoe to drop. And I dropped it. It's hard to reassure him over and over that I will be fine when I don't walk fine or do our daily activities fine.

This sucks.

The Tulips

The tulips have died since you were last here.
The tulips have died
And the chives have gone to flower.
The dandilions are white
and even the breeze has disappeared.
I wonder
if spring is over.

Happy Bday to me!

I have a love-hate relationship with my birthday. Some of the most traumatic days I have ever had have been this day. Bad stuff. But each year, I experience an overwhelming sense of hope for the year to come. Thank God I can truthfully say that this past year has been one of the best if not the best year of my life. I believe that this birthday not only gives me time to reflect on that but the hope to believe that the trend will continue.

So what is my wish? I had four candles placed in front of me and was told one was for the past, one for the present, one for the future and one for my wish. Of course, I was reminded, a wish only comes true if you don't tell anyone what it is. So you can guess all you want, my dreams are sealed.

Here's to growing a year older. Here's to the last year of a decade (again, you'll have to guess which one), here's to a birthday which celebrates earth day. Here's to healing and standing up for oneself. Here's to new understandings and new desires. Here's to coming home in my own body. And finally, here's to all of my dear friends and family that hold me in their hearts. Thanks, passionate, creative, lover, God. Thanks for this life. I'm doing my best.

Hello. Here's the thing. Those of us who have a strong desire to see changes in the policy (in the CofC Denomination) which keeps gay men and lesbians (not to mention bi-sexual and transgendered persons - and hey - what would we do with someone who is transsexual?)out of the Priesthood are sick and tired of waiting. And frankly, tired of discerning. And listening. All I know to do is start praying. Start praying that the brothers and sisters around the world who claim God as their Creator will acknowledege the beauty of all creation. Start praying that whatever it takes to change an archaic policy will happen sooner than later. Start praying that those who are too tired, to hurt, too sad, too disgusted, too frustrated to wait any longer will still be around and open when we finally do the right thing. Start praying for our souls. Because I fear that if we don't move forward on this and start acknowledging and accepting ministry from all those whom God has called, we will have some serious explaining to do.

God help us all.

I will not be

I will not be your e-mail manager
I will not be your school directory
I will not be your phone messanger
I will not be your absolutionist
I will not be your memory
I will not be your timer
I will not be your late excuse
I will not be your active listener
I will not be your forgiveness
I will not be your reader
I will not be your advisor
I will not be your kiss up
I will not be your warm fuzzy
I will not be yours
I will not be yours
I will not be yours

I've been hurting

Well, it seems my old fling fibromyalgia has been sneaking in at night and having its' way with me. When fibro calls, there is no choice but to answer the phone - if you know what I mean. I decided a long time ago that having a fibro flare, while sucky at its best, didn't have to mean I labeled the experience a "setback" or that I had to lose hope. Truth is, if this is a setback, I'm starting my whole life over about every 4-5 weeks.

Deep in the fiber of my being I've begun to flirt with the idea that these are the best years of my life so far. I haven't decided that of course, but I'm thinking about making the declaration soon.

Here's what's good:

I get two days a week (when A is with his dad) to do anything I want. Go anywhere. Enjoy what I want to enjoy. The fact that I usually sit at home on my ass and read or watch tv doesn't mean I can't get up and go out if want to. It's a nice option.

I have a great job annd I work with good people. I love to preach, love to be with others in the mess and beauty of their spirit. I have many opportunities to be successful which always feels good, and many opportunities to mess up which always pushes me to learn.

I love being with my son and get to spend the majority of my week with him. He makes me laugh, keeps me honest, and accepts me, foibles and all. I get to play a lot and read to him a lot and learn a lot and teach a lot.

I am terrifically close with my mom, dad, brother, sister-in-law, and niece and nephew. They all support me completely and love me totally. We live close by each other and visit often. I am a daughter, sister and auntie - and I love each role equally.

I am a part of a church community which I adore. These are people I have grown up with, experienced life with, love. They are people who accept me and encourage me.

I have a great therapist. Enough said.

I am always learning about God in the world and in my life. She fills me and breathes in me and moves me. She is ever present and always Love and Life.

I've been reading some fantastic fiction -women writers preferably and usually. And I've been watching fun and moving movies lately. Good stuff.

I love listening to the soundtrack for the movie Once. It fills my soul.

I have amazing, life-long friends who have stuck with me through all of this stuff. They are great support and love for me. I have at least one particular friend from all of my life experiences (high school, college, Grad school, work...) who I am still in touch with and see on a regular basis.

I have a great new dog.

My body is strong and carries me and helps me do good things.

I am finding new ways to be in the world and work for justice.

Ok, that was cathartic and powerful to me. I need to re-read this every day because, unfortunately, I don't always have this perspective. Thus begins the revolution of loving one's life.

Join me?

Happy

Well, I did it. I got a dog. I said I would, you know!

A and I went to the humane society and found "Happy" a sweet 3 year old schnauzer who loves to snuggle. Just what I need.

I'm worried that A, at 7 years old, has migraines. He gets terrible headaches and then throws up. A response to stress that mirrors one his father experienced while we were married. Ok, that sounds bad. I don't think that I stressed him (my ex)to the point of getting a headache and throwing up - but maybe I did. I don't know for sure.

Anyway.

Happy Happy.

There's something to be said

There's something to be said for companionship. Even only decent companionship. It's nice to have someone to talk to, to share with, to know. It's hard when you're out of school, everone deep in their own lives, no one really needing new friends. When you're alone everywhere you see how the world is made for couples. Not married or partnered, necessarily, just friends. Someone to do something with. Someone who knew where you were and where you're having to go.

A single parent is stuck in this odd connundrum where the person most available to you is seven years old. And they don't need your stuff as much as they need your support and love and example.

I'm fortunate in my life to have family close by. Parents who are friends. A sibling that loves me and likes me.

Mybe I'll get a dog.

So here's the deal

So...here's the deal. I totally got caught up in life outside of blogger and am just returning to this endeavor. There were some nice comments on my first two posts (of almost a year ago). And I'm thinking it would be good to continue this.

So much has happened this past year. From a fibro perspective, things are much better. I've been put on seroquel and have gone off of my sleep and anxiety meds as well as the trazadone I have been taking over 15 years. I found a great doc who mixes pragmatism with buddhism with intelligence and it's working for me.

I am still struggling with meaning. i.e., how do I live in this world and not have the energy or freedom from pain that I feel would be helpful in navigating it's ups and downs. Each day I spend lying in bed, waiting for a burst of energy that will enable me to shower and get dressed, feels like an eternity. And a waste. Which is exactly what I don't want my life to be. (An eternity or a waste).

I do feel as if I'm getting most of my brain function back and I'm working part time which is great.

So welcome back to me. Enjoy the ride.