Women.

I've been thinking a lot about women. The legacy that is women. We are approximately 50% of this population in this amazing and sometimes disappointing world. How we handle it. How we manage it. How we view it. It makes us. It makes the people around us. It's important. It's damn important. It's our legacy. Soooooo...

I've been thinking of my grandmothers. Women forged of steel. Mighty women, to whom if I'm to be compared too at any point soon.. I will fall miserably short. Because.. they were made of stern stuff.  Stuff that could be washed in hot, and dried on high. Stuff that didn't get bothered when they saw someone that they didn't like. They were tough. They had to be.

I knew Ruth Wyatt a short time. She was tiny. Little. Five foot of wispy. She scared the heck out of anyone who dared cross her. How? Well, that's the secret isn't it? I have no idea. She had a great laugh. She had a great sense of humor. And when she left this Earth.. not long after I had met her.. she impacted me. She told me I had "a rod of iron" up my back.. which I think might have been a polite way of telling me I was stubborn. She was right.

I knew Vallie Mae Morris longer.. so her impact was more. She was a STUBBORN woman. She had large hands. She had a large heart. She had one thousand pics of my kids and thought they hung the moon. She lived through the depression.. right up until a few years ago. She was formidable. She was hilarious. She didn't understand racism.. so she explained how wrong it was about every time I saw her. No amount of telling her that that was a long time ago seemed to matter. Her son had polio. Her husband went to war. She lived through 70's fashion. She did it with a sense of duty and honor. And she did it well. When she left this Earth, it was time.. but it was one less person that thought my kids were as perfect as I thought they were. And I miss her. I used to sit with her on Saturdays and she would spin stories.. and gracious I HOPE not every one of them was true.

There is Myra Bovino Thomas. She's my adopted grandmother. Not just adults can adopt, sometimes kids can do it too. (True Story) She is.. Sparkly. Her laugh is the what I grew up listening too. She is a soundtrack of sparkly and happy and love.  She would tell me what was "lady like" and what wasn't. She despaired that I would ever wear matching socks.. and the last time I saw her.. she called me "vivacious" and  "sparkly". It was ironic, because that is what I think of her. It ranks as the nicest compliment I have ever received and I'm keeping it right next to my kids first hugs and the memory of listening to them breathe as they sleep.

Then there is Maria Thomas. My grandmother. She likes to be pretty. She hates it when her make-up isn't on. She speaks spanish when she gets mad. (Which is so damn cool) She's a fierce little woman with an attitude I can appreciate. I heard her tell stories to me this week. For the first time in a long time, I heard her voice and her lilting tone and she explained little things here and there. My cousin and I went and redecorated her room. Because she needed something special. Something that was uniquely hers. A woman that has always been surrounded by pretty things, adjusting to life that isn't as pretty as she would like it....

And I think about our legacy. As women. Not just to those of us who have kiddos, but to all of us.  I wonder. Im pretty sure I did nothing impressive today. I yelled when my son didn't listen. I cussed the damn dog. I got frustrated when I found a mess I didn't know about. In the history books, this day of mine was a big fat failure... but... OHHHHH... on these days... I think of these four women. I hope they had days where they felt they failed. I hope they had days when they conquered the world. I hope they had days, where surviving was just good enough. I hope I'm lucky enough to have someone consider my legacy one day. Consider how I impacted them. Even if it was something as simple as being really ridiculous stubborn, being very serious about hating racism, a laugh that is just happy perfection, or just looking for beauty in everyday things.  I hope I get it. I hope in the overall scheme of things, I don't get too lost. And what is ridiculously clear to me at One AM will be as clear to be at Seven AM.. Being a woman is a definite gift that I treasure. I suppose the rest is up to me.
The "me" legacy.
The part of me that is remembered.
I suppose it's okay if it's remembered that there was a fair amount of cussing in there somewhere.
Because there TOTALLY WAS.
Just Sayin.

Ain't nobody got time for dat

I Ain't got time for dat....

I sit here tonight.
I am tired for NO REASON.
I did nothing amazing.
I accomplished nothing awesome.
There was dinner.
There was homework.
There were kids.
I'm another day older and deeper in debt.
(I went shopping online... got killer boots.. but, I digress)
I wrote something witty.
I felt dull. Like REALLY DULL.
I hugged my kids, lots.
I told my kiddos that I loved them, bunches.
I failed at something, I'm sure of it.
I ate too many cheese doodles.
I looked at the scale.. and then gave that object the finger of disdain.
I cried a lil bit.
I'm a woman, I'm allowed to have no reason.
I had a reason, but it was a dumb one.
I had a glass of wine.
I had another glass of wine.
I watched a murder show.
I noticed three new wrinkles.
I quit.
I hoped that everyone I know is safe and sound.
I know there is no good way to know that.
I got sad.
I blamed folks for that.
I recognized that they were unaware that I blamed them.
I got angry at that fact.
I sat in a good pout for about thirty minutes......
and then I realized... the ultimate truth in all of it.
It was another day.
My kids are lovely.
As for IMMENSE self pity, or female hysterics....

AIN'T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR DAT.

Hi. I'm random.

Hello working internet! It's been YEARS.. or four days.. I don't know, I lost count. ANYWAYS.. glad everyone appears to be in one piece. No new wars, so that's good. I hear all the new TV shows are back.. I dunno... I can't be bothered to watch anything on live television anymore. Also, if it doesn't have to do with murder, I'm not that interested. In fact, if anything happens to anyone, my TIVO is going to be exhibit A in my murder trial.. and for the record I WON'T BE GUILTY BUT THAT WON'T MATTER.  I've watched enough crime drama to know that for sure.

Anyways, I'm rambling.. because... well, I'm not watching television and facebook is only getting so interesting. I got stuck on one of those mass email thingies.. No big deal, right? WRONG. You would think that the most horrifying thing someone had ever dealt with was being on a mass email. Listen, in the scale of 1(hangnail)- 10 (serious trauma).. it's a -5... so BREATHE. Don't post the thing if you don't want to post the thing.. and for GOODNESS SAKES.. BREATHE.  Or Lord help us all when the serious situation of a hangnail comes up, it's probably just a good idea to have 911 on speed dial. Just a thought.


Also, side note.. squirrels are evil. This has nothing to do with the blog, but just needed to be stated.

Ahhhh.. I feel better now.

Good Talk.
Jus Sayin.

Smile. Just because. 

Beautiful. Why be anything else? (FYI- Guaranteed to bore all men)

I have been hammered over the head lately with the topic of  beauty. Not in a fun way either. In a FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, get a grip already kind of way. It's been an interesting revelation and one that I find to be most awkward.  However, it's got me thinking.. so here goes.

Beauty. What is it? People say it's in the eye of the beholder. Hmm.. Not sure I agree with that. Sure, someone that looks at you can perceive you in one way or another.. but What do YOU THINK ABOUT YOU? Isn't that more important?  I have beautiful friends that all look differently. I have friends with purple hair. I have friends with small tattoos. I have friends with big tattoos. I have friends that are decidedly on the short side and friends that are most definitely on the tall side.The one thing they have in common... to me, is they are all unique in a special way that makes them... Beautiful.

People tend to see beauty in different ways. It's different for all of us isn't it?

There is nothing quite as beautiful (to me) when a son looks at their mom and thinks she's beautiful , she may have a blob of ketchup on her clothing and be wearing flip flops. To him, she is the world, the moon and the stars. There are days I feel so incredibly gross. Sad, bummed out.. fugly. And there are days where I feel fabulous and like I own it. I believe I'll chalk it up to my general FEMALENESS.  We are all allowed to have our days, right?

I saw a saying the other day that said "Every woman needs to be told that she's beautiful until she believes it" I'm not sure I agree with that AT ALL. I think once you start listening to how others perceive you.. you give away some of your power to feel confident and beautiful on your own. I think we have our beauty within us and we all show it differently. Whether the style is flip flops or stilettos, it's about being comfortable in our own skin. Right? What is more beautiful than a woman who is comfortable in just being herself and owning it? I recently was accused of some very nasty vile things, but when I thought about it... when I really thought about it.. I remembered something amazing. I am me. It clearly infuriates them. I'm okay with that. I'll be happy. They can be miserable. As long as they keep their misery away from me. It's fine. Enjoy. Seems a soul sick way to be.. but I won't judge. Maybe that's the way some people need to see the world?

A unicorn. 

When a woman compliments another woman, it's my very favorite kind of compliment. It's not about what they can do for each other, it's not about ulterior motives.. it's about a genuine appreciation for another person.  Isn't our time better spent building each other up?  To those that can't understand that? Well, maybe it's just because they have an ugly life complex. Or ugly shoes. Or ugly self esteem. Or an ugly SOUL.  Meanwhile, I think I'll just choose to see the beauty in others, and depending on the day I may see it myself or I may not. (Because I have a lil something called BEING A WOMAN happening)

Rollin with Sparkles. 

 Soooo... I'll just be me and I'll own it, freckles and all. I have chicklets for teeth, a crooked smile, eyes the color of muddy lake water and a scar in the middle of my forehead.. because apparently at three I COULD NOT RESIST scratching at it. But, hey.. I'm me.  I'll wear my make up and do my hair, (most days) because I enjoy it, and if I see you in shorts and flip flops.. well, thats beautiful to me, because thats who you are. In my humble opinion we should never try and be someone else to make others happy. We should just be us. Women. Because every woman is beautiful in her own way. . And for those that can't understand, please have the decency to just be bitter, hateful and soul sick to yourself and leave the rest of us ALONE.  Meanwhile, in my humble opinion, we should all just be busy being the best original sparkly beautiful US we can be.  Because why would we want to be anything else? Just my humble opinion.  I'm Jus Sayin.

Sparkle shorts and McDonalds. 

Time

It t'would seem that in these long days and shorter nights, I am reminded of time. It marches on. Regardless of who we are. Our stature. Our lives. Our direction. It marches forward. We can not go back. Ever. When we look at a mistake it is always in hindsight. We don't get Xray vision into the future. More is the pity.

(I'm crying because I hated my hair AND my shoes. True Story)

(I'm happy because I liked both my hair AND my shoes. Again, true story.)

If I could go back in time, I would tell myself a TON of things... I would advise against a perm. For certian. I would make sure the blue and pink glasses didn't happen. I would rethink the blue eyeshadow, absolutely. I would choose NOT to take the quicker route and end up plunging my blue Honda over a hill. I would play volleyball more. I would DEFINITELY tell the asshole sexist preacher man to "Eat a butt" with more unction. (I'll still always be happy that I pissed him off regularly.. glass half full)  I would apply myself for more than three minutes to a musical instrument. I'm making my kid do this.. he doesn't understand yet, but one day he will. I would appreciate my crazy mother more. She's crazy, but she's mine.. and she worked hard, always. I would definitely take back 18-24 yr old "I know everything attitude". That must have been exhausting to everyone around. I like the knowledge far better than I know next to NOTHING and am learning something new around every corner. I'd enjoy my youth a little more. I spent the majority of my twenties being forty.. Now, it's reversed.. harder this way around for sure!

(I hope they remember to always be silly)

When my sons talk... and talk... and talk... and TALK.. I'm reminded that I never shut up either.. that I probably handed that down to them with a host of other traits they are going to have to deal with. I hope they realize how fleeting time actually is. I hope they realize that as I sit.. and I blink with irritation at the CONSTANT chatter I hear.. that it's marching on. We have changed our conversations from Elmo and Barney to girls and computer software. I don't remember when that happened. I don't know how it happened. But... I think for me.. I'll choose to be in this time. Wherever this is. I'll lose my mind. I'll yell at the kids when they drive me bonkers. I'll MARVEL at the youngest ones ability to destroy a room and I'll MARVEL at the oldest ones ability to play minecraft.   I'll be in this time. I'll enjoy it. I'll love the people I want too with a ferocity.  I'll question total authority, ALWAYS. I'll NEVER get a perm EVER AGAIN. When I look back.. I hope I can say that I remember at least some of the good stuff and have forgotten most of the bad. (The youngest started an experiment in the bathroom.. I don't even know how to begin cleaning) I hope I remember my sense of humor. I hope I remember that one time I too tried an experiment with pots and toothpaste in the bathroom that went horribly wrong.  I hope I'll remember to enjoy time as it marches past me. I also hope it goes just a little slower when they are asleep, because I'm tired. Jus Sayin.

(Muh boys)

Adventurin....:)

    Recently I was presented with a last minute chance to go to San Franscisco. Now.. I've been there before, I think I was around eighteen or so and it was very intimidating to me. Of course, now that I think about it.. I think EVERYTHING was intimidating to me at eighteen. Of course I also think I knew everything.. so I must have been pretty FUN.. OBVIOUSLY. ANYWAYS. I am not really an adventurer. I've always been the type that likes to have a plan. I like to know where I am. I like sameness and security and I HATE to be lost. Which happens frequently enough, but still I HATE IT.  Anyways.. I decided a couple of years ago that I was going to STOP being initimidated by adventurous things. This made my mother very happy although she still dissappoves of my wardrobe... so glass half full on that one.  So off to San Fran I went with absolutely no plan other than I felt sure there were things to do and see and I felt sure I was capable of doing and seeing them. I think in my thirties I have pretty good insurance, soo... I'm going with it.  What could go wrong? So many things....

The first day I had it all to myself from start to finish. Kerry was in business stuff all day, so if I had to be hospitalized or something I'm sure he could have come but basically the man was busy...soo... off I went.  I used my trusty Iphone to remember my street address.. apparently there are TWO Westins in San Fran.. I'll get to that later. Anyways, a man literally whistled for a cab and I got in and said "Take me somewhere there is bread... and maybe also soup...."  Off to the wharf we went. Apparently if you walk alone, you may look like a bit of an oddity in a touristy area.. but I got over that pretty quickly. I mean..  this was a land of chocolate and bread and wine.. does NOT get much better. I shopped and found an amazing place to eat with a nice glass of wine.. it twas lovely.  I continued on down the street until I found a WINERY.. and then things get a teeensy bit hazy. I had to taste the wine, and then I had to buy the wine and then I got into a lovely discussion about football teams and then I had the lady call me a cab. Upon entering the lovely cab, I told him my destination. VERY CAREFUL to give him the street address.. at least I think I was careful. I digress.

I then exited the cab at the Westin.. this is the part of the story that it becomes VERY IMPORTANT to know that there are two Westins. Up to the front desk... "Um... where is the other Westin?" that happened. That question ACTUALLY happened. Soooo... somehow I ended up in another cab with another mother and we shared a cab.. sorta.. somehow and then I got to the right Westin... which would have been INFINITELY more exciting if only I knew what I had done with the room key. Hmmmm... Ten minutes later and a gentleman that pretty much looked like a mobster showed up, let me in my room and asked to see my ID.. and then I went to sleep. I survived. I had FUN. I ordered a TON of wine. And I adventured, and lived a little and every little bit counts.  Jus Sayin. :) (Also, later I bought shoes. Glory. Amen. Hallelujah.)

Mean people SUCK.

Mean people suck.
That's why... "I have decided to be happy, because it is good for my health." and to Hell with them.
Yup.
Also, I have decided to do something amazing.
I don't know what it is yet, but it's going to be groundbreaking.
Also probably there will be cheese sauce.
And maybe ice cream.
But not together.
OBVIOUSLY.
That would just be silly.
And I am NEVER silly.
Sarcastic.. all the time, but NEVER silly.
Again, OBVIOUSLY.

Goooood Talk.