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Thought for Today

There is no more lovely, friendly or charming relationship, communion or company, than a good marriage. ~Martin Luther

Forever in Love

With “Forever in Love” by Kenny G. playing in the background, I lie on my bed with tears swelling in my eyes.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.  It’s beautiful.”

“Oh.  But why are you crying?”

“I don’t know.  I am wondering what would have been if we were more of the romantic type of couple.”


“But we’re not wired that way, as a couple, I mean; and for myself, as myself, I never really got the chance to find out.  But I can lay here, listen and cry.  I cry because it moves my soul and I would love to live out my fantasies of expressing myself just like this music.”

First off, the above is an imagined conversation I had tonight with, I guess, myself, or not myself.  It could’ve been a real one, but if it were, it wouldn’t have been this one.  The music was real and probably instigated this whole thing.  sigh.  We know we love each other, we are secure with that… but is that supposed to be enough?  I’m not so sure.  I am secure in this relationship and I would never do anything to destroy that trust we have in each other, no way.  Is there anything wrong with having romantic fantasies about ones’ own husband?  Nope, and that’s definitely sexy in a marriage; but I don’t think it’s a good thing if they go unfulfilled… or at least trying to, or at least just go through the motions and let the person experience it for real.  But if that cannot be, I must think and possibly over analyze.

What I think is that priorities for relationships change.  That’s for sure.  I’ve seen it with my dad after the passing of my mom, and I saw it in myself even before him, after my divorce.  The freaking irony of it all is that the exact type of person I was attracted to back in the nineties, would’ve been totally wrong for me in this, my present, the life I am living now.  I married serious.  I used to be attracted to funny guys with an insane funny personality, but smart, intelligent, possibly even play an instrument, be in a band or something.  I had found one such person.  His name was Dave.  For the moment I forget his last name, but that’s probably for the best, because I’m writing about him now.  He was a huge hulk of a man, very tall, long hair, looked like a biker dude, but very shy, playful and gentle.  He was super smart and we’d play word games back and forth over aol chat.  I love word games, puns, rhymes, etc. He was a bass player in a band, and I also forgot that name.  He turned me on to Kenny Wayne Shepherd’s “Blue on Black” and I had even learned how to play it on the guitar. When I lived in NJ, I actually drove down to Smithville, single girl on a Sunday, to see his band play in a bar.  I only had enough spare change to buy one drink.  I got along so well with his friends, and we really, REALLY clicked.  Oh crap, did we really click.  At the end of the night, or afternoon, because of the drive I had back, we stood close to each other, with me standing on some steps, while he stood at the base of them… THAT’S just how tall, but we never kissed.  We stood there for a long time, but he was too shy to even kiss me. Damn! Wow!  I left, then he never invited me back.  We kept in touch, though.  I knew that he was a family man, so if anything had progressed with us, it would’ve been toward marriage and a family.

Well, two years later, out of the blue he invites me down for the weekend so he could cook a gourmet dinner for me.  We made plans, I even started to accumulate little culinary gifts for a basket for his cooking pleasure.  I also knew that if I went down there, we would “do it”, and consummate the build up of desires and emotions that forever had occupied the outskirts of our correspondence.  We had little scenarios of romantic nights under the stars.  Anyway, right about then I started talking to my now DH.  We had a few emails and telephone conversations.  We made arrangements to meet, just on the Saturday of my weekend away.  For those of you who don’t know, and that’s got to be ALL of you, DH has incredible timing.  Always working out no matter if it looks to be a bust all along… Always.  SO.  I was in a dilemma because I knew that DH’s goal was to eventually get serious, leading to marriage.  I also knew that my friend in Smithville had no future, professionally.  I mean, he had no goals and that threw up a red flag, it always had but I never had to contend with that.  My newfound morals at the time forbade me to go on with this weekend.  I had already had it in my mind that it would be cheating, but it really would not have been, technically. Maybe I just didn’t want to have to disclose that if anything got serious, and I knew that I would have to, and I knew that the chronology would not be be optimal, DH is a math major for God’s sake!

Big exhale… Wow that feels better.  But do you see how priorities change?  They always do and I think too many people don’t recognize that and just go with it.  Everything happens for a reason.  First husband divorced me because he felt himself calm down a bit from being this outrageous self centered ego maniac  and he didn’t like it.  He felt that I was the reason, so he had to get rid of me.  Problem solved.  Of course it’s not as simple as that as a marriage never really crumbles because of just one person; but basically, that was the root of it.   Wow… marriage breaks up because the man finds a bit of peace and it throws him for a loop….

DH is the love of my life, for better or for worse…. mostly for an abundance of bliss and I really mean that.  We have something that nobody else has, nor should they.  I’ve made my choice.

Sensory Friendly Theater



This is Autism Awareness Month and my boy is autistic.

I don’t say that to draw attention to my son being autistic. I write that to draw attention to Autism.

Every post from now on in the month of April, I will start in this way, regardless of content.  I’ve not done much this year I guess because I’m not a good planner, so this is the least I can do.  I have blue shirts and blue nail polish and briefly I contemplated dying my hair blue; but ya know it has no effect if I don’t leave the house.  Sometimes I wonder if there are people out there who will read this and listen…. especially people with the power to change things.  We’ve had little victories here and there, but in general I am disheartened by the apathy of the education system.  It’s either that they don’t give a damn, or maybe they are in a comfort zone they fear to leave.  They have a system and this autism thing just throws a wrench into the works and screws them all up.  I can tell you that when our school decided to form a social skills group, it was on the fly and they don’t even know if they’re doing anything right yet.  I was told that they are creating it as they go along and while I’m glad that they are trying, I’m a little  a LOT worried about how successful their efforts will be.

Well, God will answer our prayers.  In my case, because I’m not good at praying, He sees into my heart and knows what I need even before I know and I trust that.  I received today in Gabe’s backpack, an envelope from his Speech teacher.  Inside was a press release from the Union County Office of Public Information, announcing a new Sensory Friendly Theater series of performances specially designed for children with autism and related disabilities at the Union County Performing Arts Center in Rahway, NJ.  The notice is entitled: “Union County Offers Theater Program for Children with Autism and Related Disabilities.”  This is what caught my eye:

The new series, which begins on June 10 with Tom Chapin and Friends, is designed according to guidelines that help to reduce disturbances for youngsters who experience heightened sensory sensitivity. The Performing Arts Center is committed to a creating a judgment-free zone with plenty of trained specialists who understand autism and similar disabilities.

A sports program for the autistic child, it is not; and I personally would LOVE such a sports program.  Seriously though, I wouldn’t care if this was a special program for making 10′ snowmen on a hot July afternoon.  I’m in a state of elation right now because these are exactly the types of considerations our kids absolutely need in order to benefit from their participation.  Adults who have training and understand autism (and similar disabilities) are absolutely essential for a successful program such as this.  There is a lot more to this notice, but I keep coming back to the above words:  “judgment-free zone, trained specialists, understand autism.”  The sad fact is that our school professionals are officially none of these things.  Let me just stop right here and say that this in no way diminishes the teaching abilities of these professionals.  I think, as teachers, we are very lucky to have who we have, however…..   My experience with school professionals working with my boy:  Compassionate, yes.  Patient, yes.  Accommodating, yes (so far).  But even our Special Ed teacher is not trained to understand autism.  Why is that?  Well, she got her degree way back in I don’t know what decade and has had no other education to bring her uptodate on Autism or any (similar disability)… umm that really, no, REALLY doesn’t sit right with me.  I think I can be fairly certain of that because I’ve asked whether she had training and I never received an affirmative answer or any qualifiable answer.  Soooo, what would you think?  I’ve advocated to the principal, political candidates for office who come to our door, and anyone who’d listen, and even at a town meeting that it’s imperrative that our teachers be educated to understand autism.  I feverently believe that it’s not just unfair to ask our children to be put into a classroom with adults who don’t understand them; but it’s also unfair to put teachers into that same room with the knowledge, tools and strategies to educate these kids and navigate the myriad of possible disruptions that can occur.  So you see, I have reason to feel disheartened.  Anyone who comes to this door will continue to get an earful and I suppose will regret knocking on our particular door…. oh well.  SO to get this news today gave me a little hope.

I’d also like to share with you the person responsible, Union County Freeholder Chairman Alexander Mirabella.  I won’t replicate the whole announcement here, but here is a link at NJtoday.  If you’d like to call for information, here the number to call: 732-499-8226… OR here’s the link to Sensory Friendly Theater web page

Speaking the Reason for the Season…

“Jesus is the reason for the season” ~

I just googled that phrase and this was the result:

  1. WEB:  About 2,990,000 results (0.15 seconds)
  2. IMAGES:   About 25,200,000 results (0.27 seconds)

Try as I might, I can’t bring myself to pull in one of these 25 million or so images into this post.  Maybe I should go with the Santa suit hanging on the cross?  Brrr gives me the shivers to think that someone thought of that and actually released it on the internets.  That is definitely a good thing.  I’m guessing that at this rate, I’ll never find out who coined that phrase or how it originated; but I can tell you one definite thing.  I hate this sentence.  It’s over used as evidenced by this one, single google search at 8:26 in the morning.  I was never a fan of cliches, and this one in particular.  The rhyming sound of it sounds so cheesy to me.  reason for the season… reason for the season… reason for the season   Great marketing?  Hardly.

I guess we all need our little catch phrases, but I’m coming to believe more and more that using these “fun” phrases is just a way to avoid speaking the beautiful words that can be used instead and I’m not really talking about “Merry Christmas,” though I do like that and “Happy Christmas” is another one I like because it’s different.  Of what I’m really speaking about are the beautiful words that come from our faith.  I’m finding that we avoid using them because we are uncomfortable saying them.  Not all of us are uncomfortable, though.  The most beautiful people in the world go around saying stuff like, “May God bless you” or “I’ll pray for you,” and really mean it.  Those beautiful words just roll off their tongues and it sounds so natural.  After you shake off the shock of hearing it, you realize that you are touched by hearing words of love and caring, yet we hesitate to use them ourselves.

I guess I should interject here that I’m talking from my own experience, but believe that I’m not the only one with these experiences.  IN my own experience, my very first recollection is feeling awkward and embarrassed if someone said something, anything socially having to do with religion to me.  Maybe I too desperately wanted to appear “cool” at a time when I so obviously wasn’t.  Maybe I was just uncomfortable expressing ANY greeting at all?   Anyway, so hearing religious Christmas greetings like wishing people love, joy and peace in the same sentence, verbally, was awkward.  If we never hear these words, we will never use these words, or be comfortable around them.

When I started to practice my faith, I came to know people who openly praised God and regularly said, what I’ll call, “religious” words like God, Jesus, bless, praise God and the list goes on.  At first, I was uncomfortable but as time went by, I grew more comfortable and eventually started expressing myself in the same way…. but only at church.  Little by little, I got comfortable using these words to help express myself in other, outside church social settings… and it felt good.  First, we need to surround ourselves with like people of faith, it’s community we all hunger for.   They are people with whom we can comfortably practice our faith openly.


A day of festivity or recreation when no work is done.

In these days of political correctness, somewhere along the line we stopped being comfortable being ourselves, at least in public, outside our churches.  There are so many beautiful words to use for expressing “holiday” greetings.  I hate that word used in this context.  If we mean Christmas, we should SAY Christmas, or the proper greeting for whatever holiday and stop saying, “Happy Holidays”… pleeease~!  It’s just playing it safe.  That phrase means absolutely nothing and does not transmit joy or any emotion that we most certainly feel when we reach out to strangers in this glorious season.  “Glorious,” another word.

But this... this sound wasn't sad. Why... this sound sounded glad. Every Who down in Whoville, the tall and the small, was singing, without *any* presents at all! He hadn't stopped Christmas from coming, it *came*! Somehow or other... it came just the same.

One of my favorite Christmas book/show/movie is “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.”  I’ve not even seen it yet this year and my heart is swelling up three times it’s normal size already.  THIS is the feeling we all need to connect to, then express with all the innocence of Little Cyndi Lou Who, who was no more than two.  Once we all realize, I mean REALLY realize that the Christmas Spirit originates in the heart, then nothing and nobody can spoil it.  Sound those trumpets!

There is no shame connected to honestly expressing oneself.  We look for lightning fast catch phrases, sound bites.  I can’t help but wonder if we just don’t want to own what we say.  Say it fast, exit as fast as possible.  Let’s slow down and savor the moments we speak, which means speak with care and own what you do say.  We just need to take the time to move our lips (watch out don’t give yourself a cramp) and get them used to moving and using those numerous mouth muscles.  I know that often I speak or post very quickly and often put my foot in it.  Even so, I try to own what I say and if I need to apologize, I will.  I do not hesitate about that, and well, being me, I sort of expect it quite often.

Well, I’ve used up too much of my time this morning for this post yet I feel that I’ve failed miserably in trying to communicate the thoughts that flooded into my head during the foggy moments of my morning…. pre-coffee.  So, please if anyone has anything to add or say, feel free to comment and shed more light on my damp, foggy morning.

Like I tell my Gabe, USE YOUR WORDS.

Memories Are Necessary

My mom and me Nov 1961 (left) My mother before the nastiness of early motherhood (right)

I posted a bit yesterday about a life lesson that I’m all caught up in right now, Some Life Lessons.  It’s been a long time in the making, but this will hopefully be a short follow up.

I just wanted to add another thought, something that I had forgotten over the years.  If you’ve read some of the earlier posts of my blog, you will have gathered that for most of my life I did not have a good relationship with my mother.  She was  distant, cold and definitely unapproachable.  I have come to understand how and why this was so; but that does not help the little girl inside who longed for and needed to be shown the love that I know (now) she must have felt.  I’ll try to be brief and describe a little background.

When I was born, it was 9 months and two days after my parent’s marriage.  All the women of the family were counting the days on their fingers from the day of the marriage and my birth, hence how I know the exact number of days.  That was back in 1961, she was 22 years old and the times were not as relaxed now about getting pregnant before marriage and, well, things were pretty stressful for my mom.  Add on to that the pregnancy was in danger with hemorrhaging and from the second month, my mother was on complete bed rest.  When I was born, I had stuff wrong with me.  The one I’ll talk about because I believe that it shaped my mother, and I can imagine hardened her, gave her a tough skin and eventually, she closed herself off to feeling, experiencing the hard emotions.  I was born with a condition, probably arising from my constant position in the womb, of my head and neck being scrunched down onto my chest.  The doctor told my parents that it would amount to a hunched back as I grew up if not treated.  I became part of an experimental treatment.. and I am even proudly in some medical journal somewhere.  It was prescribed that I would receive muscular therapy.  It was a very painful process of stretching my neck (and probably shoulder/back) muscles.  A nurse had to come to the house and teach my mother what to do.  She was to lay her infant (me) on the edge of the kitchen table, with my head hanging off of it.  She then had to proceed to gently twist my head from side to side.  I was told that this was very painful to me and I can imagine how my mother must have felt having to do this to me.  I can imagine the pain she felt and yet knowing that if her daughter ever had a chance to grow up “normal”, she had to inflict this horrible pain onto her.  I must have been screaming.  My mother was also probably alone in this because my dad was working 2-3 jobs.  Sometimes two, sometimes three.  There were other things, too, like a bright red, pot-marked area on the left side of my face and two clubbed feet, which were two inwardly turned feet and legs.  After I was born, I needed to have casts on my legs up to my hips in the (successful) attempt to straighten out my legs.  So, as you can see, I was born a literal mess.  Oh crud, it wasn’t until I became a mother in my mid forties I could not fully understand the pain and stress my mother went through with me and during my growing years.  To be honest, I was the source of a lot of pain for her during the eight years between my mid twenties to mid thirties.  So that is a little bit of background.

So, my mom hardly if ever showed us any affection.  To make matters a little worse, I was not interested in the typical things that bonded mothers and daughters, like talking about home decorating, cooking and the like.  BUT, one time, a year or so before she passed on, we were talking.  I was in my late thirties and our relationship had recently gotten a lot better.  I was able to communicate with my mother on the level of peers, not as mother daughter, or I should say not as mother, authority figure and blindly obedient daughter.  We communicated honestly and we respected what the other had to say.  It was a time I felt that I could honestly just say what I thought and had no fear of doing that… also, it was a time when my self confidence was on the upsurge, the first one in my whole life.  Well, on day we were talking and she told me that I was special and that I should never forget that.  I seem to remember that not being the only time she said that, but I don’t remember that time very well.  I remember this time.  I remember bodily freezing and fighting my hardest hold back the tears…. not like now.

I just wish that I knew then what I know now.   What pain she suffered just to make me a “normal” kid, girl, woman.  She was much as I am now.  No income of her own, though she worked before having me.  I am so much in debt to her for what she has done for me.  I can understand now how and why you became so cold and seemingly to me, unfeeling; and it’s that understanding that will lead me to be a good mom in my own right.  It was survival.  It was something that I’m sure was not an intentional thing.  I totally get that.  I’m glad now that you just did what you had to do to carry on the business of raising two girls in your tradition.  I understand and that comforts me.  I can’t sit here and wish things were different.  I’m really grateful for the time we had together during the brief years at the end of your life.   I’d want you to know that your actions have now given me the courage and strength to, in turn, do what I now have to do for my son, the grandson that you never got to know on earth.

Thanks so much, MOM.

Love Never Fails

1 Corinthians 13

 1 If I speak in the tongues[a] of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast,[b]but do not have love, I gain nothing.

 4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

 8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. 9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10 but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. 11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. 12 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

 13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Whenever I think about or refer to this passage, I simply must include the whole chapter. Every time we hear this reading in church, we only hear From 13:4-6, and maybe 13:13. Everything else is eliminated.  Very sad because there is so much more to hear here that is really important.  The one time I had control over this was when the DH and I got married.  We had the whole reading included and that made us very happy.

I often wonder why we do not get the benefit from this beautiful passage and the only reason I can guess at is that church officials really do think we are sheep and maybe don’t have the brains to grasp and appreciate the full meaning.  Even I, with my limited understanding, understand that if I don’t have love, I have nothing.  I am nothing.  And that does mean that if nobody loves me I have nothing.  It means that if I do not have love within myself to give to others, I have nothing.  Hmm, very interesting.  Love seems to have more weight than even faith, which I find shocking, but there it is:

and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3

Amazing.  I can have the strongest faith in the Lord, but if I do not have love inside myself, love for my neighbors, I am nothing in the eyes of God.  Truly amazing.  I’m going to “amaze” myself out of readers if I keep this up, but the capacity for learning never ceases to amaze me (couldn’t resist that last one).

Anyway, this passage popped up today while I was commenting on another blog.  I was expressing my hope that my son will, later on in life if not sooner, will recognize the love we, his parents, have for him and how much it has influenced every bit of our marriage and our efforts on his behalf to make him a better life.  It’s our hope that no matter what happens, no matter what we do, he will know that everything said, everything done was done out of love.  We hope that our love for him will shine through all the disagreements and arguments, all the times we need to say “no”.  All the times we make him do his homework, do his chores, practice his social skills using the tools he collects along the way.  Well, it’s our desire for him to truly understand what love is. Can he feel it?  Yes.  Are we sure that he knows what it is, or ever will?  The jury is still out on that because we do not fully understand the traits of Autism, in particular his lack of empathy; and we certainly do not know how severe of a lack that is in him.  He can learn, or I should ask:  Can he learn about love just has he learns social skills? How can we, or CAN we differentiate these kind of emotional, age appropriate, milestones?  We hardly know what is age appropriate, let alone what would be age appropriate for an autistic child.

I find myself verbalizing a lot.  My new thing is to constantly ask my little guy to repeat back his understanding of different things, whether it be word definitions or emotions, or anything I get the impression needs work.

8 Love never fails.

But maybe sometimes we fail love.  Thank goodness love is without condition or I’d be a really sad person right now.  I am putting a lot, no all of my eggs in the basket of love.  I’m so afraid of failing my child.  Is this too much of an expectation to place on my love for him?  I am wondering, but even as I do, I know that I have help.  My husband’s love for our son is amazing and in some ways out shines my own.  His perpetual love and consideration is amazing and so matter of fact, as if he’s been doing it all his life, so integrated into his nature… so natural, no questions (or answers) needed.  When I picked this man as my life partner and as the father of my children, I not only picked a keeper, I picked a winner… so unusual for me… lol.  Thank God that for one time in my life, I made a good assessment of the opposite sex.

So where do I go from here?  First and foremost, never give up on love.  Love really does conquer all and this family is living proof.  Second, always trust my judgement , but also DH’s judgement.  He is a very deep person and his motives are not always apparent, and almost never verbalized…. which leads me to the next.  Always ask questions.  I’m always amazed at what I learn.

Define Gratitude

grat·i·tude   [grat-i-tood, -tyood] noun the quality or feeling of being grateful or thankful: He expressed his gratitude to everyone on the staff.

Today I’ve been feeling that I need to write about being grateful for my friends. I’m still going to do that, but I wanted to do this preliminary post about gratitude, in general.  I just hope I can do the subject justice.

It wasn’t until I consciously strove to feel grateful, did I start to really enjoy life. Not only that, but I do believe that it’s a critical ingredient to a happy and respectful marriage; and this, my friends is from where I speak.  Through my marriage, my husband, I can see the world not as the old, cynical me; but as a refreshed me.  I really credit my DDH (Dear Dear Husband) with the bulk of renewing my life, or at the very least he be the catalyst for it.  He nurtures that, and you’d better believe, in his own subtle (or not so subtle) way, he calls me out on the carpet when I stray…. but not before I make a total jerk of myself… aaaah- He loves me~!

Not only is gratitude key for a good marriage.  It’s critical to any relationship, and the other major one is my relationship with God.  If I’m not grateful for everything that God has given me, then I really do have nothing.  I’ve made it a rule that I must always be grateful for everything I do have in my life and forget what doesn’t happen to be here for me.  I can’t waste my time going to places I can’t reach… yet.  Concentrating on what I do have means that I’m not thinking about the negative, whatever that may be.  What I’m doing now with these gratitude posts is refreshing my memory, reminding myself that there is so much in my life to be happy about and to remember to thank my Creator.

For me being grateful means that in taking the time to think about the positives, about the really good people in my life, presents more opportunities to project a positive spirit out to others.  More opportunities to tell the people in my life how much I love them and how much I appreciate their presence in my life.  Another thing is that up until now, I could not tell people how I felt about them.  I was embarrassed or I thought it was silly.  I thought it wasn’t important.  Now I know that is a lie.  It IS very important to those around me to know, more importantly TO BE TOLD how much they mean to me.  I need to take the time to tell my friends I love them.  That they are important to me.  Thank them for being in my life.  I won’t miss those opportunities again.  Too many times we let the moment pass, then regret it.

Another concept I came away from Oprah’s Lifeclass is when she said, “Your presence is enough.”  If I remember correctly this was part of a discussion about “what should I do when I walk into a room” or “what do I say?”  Something like that, and this sentence, “Your presence is enough” just jumped out at me.  Yeah, I really get that and I want to close my eyes: OOHHMMMM.

Gratitude is the fertile soil for Love.  See what those OHM’s can do?

edited to add:  Just found this quote I was saving about Joy:

“When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find 
it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. 
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see 
that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”

~Kahlil Gibran


Gratitude Journal

Last night I tuned in to Oprah’s Lifeclass for the first time.  I went all out and had the TV on as well as the web which I was glad that I did because the talking continued during commercial breaks and also after the TV version ended.  All in all, it was pretty good and definitely a godsend with all the crap they put on TV these days.  Definitely worth the time watching.

So if I got one thing out of last night’s show was the suggestion of writing a Gratitude Journal… and I’m going to.  The point is to write 5 things that you’re grateful for each day.  I’m a bit late today because I was out all day, but maybe that’s the best way to do this so that I can have the opportunity to think back on the day and remember again what I’m grateful for.  Please note that this  list is not necessarily in order of importance.  Whatever is relative to my life IS important to me, so here goes:

I am so very grateful for my husband, Ed.  It’s the every day things.  The small, seemingly insignificant things that turn out to be anything but insignificant.  He way of being is so calming, in and of itself.  I just can’t get over where my life could have been if it weren’t for him.  He inspires me to be more than I am and that’s it in a nutshell.  Yes, I’m grateful for him every single day; and through him, we have the most beautiful and amazing boy.

By the way, our son is the second thing I am grateful for.  I wish I could show you on this one page how truly amazing he is.  He is definitely forming his sense of humor and have no idea where that will end up, but he’s like me in the way he laughs at his own senseless jokes, which really does make it funny, well to me.  His laugh, however, comes from his father… a guffaw-like chuckle.  I am grateful to the babe who teaches his mother about life every single day.  Who is supposed to be teaching who here?  lol… That question is up for debate because he is, well, amazing….


I’m so SO grateful for my Posse~!  A collection of wonderful, wonderful ladies who get together once a month to celebrate Friends, Fellowship and Food!  HA… Well, mainly we share our joy of the fiber arts through crochet, knitting, and charity projects.  These ladies are:  Linda, Eartha, Pauline, Dolores, Helen, Pat, Desirre, Jeannette, Susan, Laura, Jeri and myself.  No, I’m terrible because there are others who while are not present every month are missed.  There are newer people, too, who are always finding us; but I’m not so good with names and I apologize if I left anyone out.  Today was our special day and it could not be better.  Delicious food, wonderful friends who are always positive and uplifting to the spirit.  When we are together we laugh, laugh, laugh and we find it hard to pull ourselves away from each other.   It’s a virtual lovefest.  LOVE YOU GIRLS~!

I’m grateful for my faith.  Without that I would be a total mess right now. Having a loving and forgiving God to believe in makes living easier.  I know that I am never alone.  I can forgive myself because I know that God forgives me.  I just look around in my life and know to the core of my being that He exists and is taking care of me.  I believe that He has hand picked my mate and by extension, our son, our family…. Thank you, Lord… so, SO much~!

I’m grateful for where I’m living.  I must say that I complain a lot about the area I live in.  It’s a terrible urban area with lots of crime, but the block we live on is relatively reminiscent of a nice neighborhood.  It’s a dead end street, so no heavy traffic, well, if you don’t count frequent number of cars who don’t realize it and try to scream into our neighbor’s yard at the very end of the street.  Oh, forgot, keep it positive.  I’m grateful for our home.  We rent on the first floor and have a nice breezy porch.  We have large public rooms and it’s just right for us.  It’s our home and I love this space so much.  We have, or I should say “had” a garden until the landlord’s son pretty much took it over.  My first reaction was a bad one, but I’ve gotten over it.  Now that it’s the fall, we have to see what will be happening with it next spring.  I had a small spot that the landlord gave us and we planted lavender and rosemary bushes, basil, tomatoes, oregano, thyme, mint and whatever else I could fit in there.  I can’t begin to explain how it made me feel to just be able to walk out back and pick fresh herbs and veggies to use in my cooking.  It brought me closer to the earth.  I sure hope we can work this out and I’m optimistic about it and for that, I’m grateful.

What is H.O.T.

FORGET about what’s “hot”. If you can look at your partner and feel drawn to them, no matter what the circumstances or wherever you are, OR how ridiculous they look at the time, then THAT’S love… I don’t NEED to see hot… I HAVE love…. and ladies there is nothing more sexy than seeing Ed interacting with our son…. Just a thought taking me over, there… carry on.

I wrote this on my facebook wall (complete with excessive dots which is my trademark) and got virtually no comments.  I am wondering why.  So, I am asking for opinions/comments from anyone.  Do you agree?  disagree?

So, let me go back a bit.  I am prone to spontaneous urges to document my thoughts, feelings and urges… as I’m sure we all are.  Last week I had one such feeling, desire, urge, whatever you want to call it, at the most inopportune time you can imagine – while attending a Day of Reflection for the ministers at our church.  It’s not that I wasn’t paying attention, because I was; but there came a point when I looked over at my hubby and was overcome with emotions.  There was a deep love, there was respect, there was affection…. and yes, there was frisky.  I thank God for him in my life and the family we have created.

Fast forward just a little bit, and I am reminded by the young people in my life how much they admire and are attracted to whatever they consider “hot”.  I thought to myself, well, the first thing I thought was how young they are and how much of their lives must pass away before they realize that “hot” usually brings with it disappointment, betrayal (maybe) and too much expectation.

Why are people attracted to “hot”?  Well, I’m not going to insert here what I think.  I really want to know what YOU think.  All I will say of both my Drake and myself is that we are definitely not main stream hotties, though my Drake is a sizzling hot in my eyes.  I wrote this post because I see too much out there of people prejudging others on their looks and while there is nothing wrong is sowing wild oats, too often we get hurt or we get into trouble…. real trouble.


Come Fly Away With Me.

Today I had to write about something that happens all too frequently around here.  Have you ever been in a social situation with your partner, when you glance at them and a “feeling” comes over you too suddenly?  I mean in a certain place and situation where there is no chance in hell of doing more than look longingly at them?

This happens to me when we are attending MASS of all things!  We are R.Catholic.  We go to church, attend mass, receive the Eucharist.  It’s supposed to be just you and God, that’s it.  Somehow unbidden, I desire to connect with My hubby, the Drake, as all my old readers know him as.   So, this post will be my attempt at poking and prodding at this phenomenon and see where it leads…. probably nowhere special because I just can’t seem to concentrate and the moment is over, at least for today.  I really should attempt this earlier in the day and not late at night, or sleep deprived.

May I first say that at these times, I feel more tenderness towards my love-guy than at any other time… I mean, ANY other time!  So, this wave washes over me right in the middle and when we give the sign of peace, we usually give each other a peck on the lips… which I was really temped, but we were pretty much sitting up front, so wasn’t going to go there… sigh… I felt a rush of longing as if I was watching him from 1000 miles away; yet I was sitting right next to him.  I sat there, gazing at him feeling so proud to be his wife.  So grateful for him in my life.  I know that sounds corny, especially to the young, but I don’t care.  Humph… the young.  What do they know?  They experience feelings, allow themselves to experiment with their bodies, then believe they are experts, “worldly” beings.  Let me tell you something.  A-G-E has a LOT to do with it.  I don’t care if you think you’re an expert by the time you’re twenty-one because of whatever you have done…. you are not.  You still have a young, innocent, naive, heart and mind.   Age gives you the objectivity to examine your feelings and emotions without getting crazy (in the subjective).  Age allows you that third party advantage… well heck, I’m 47, but figure when you get to 50 you’re already the age of two 25 year olds combined.

But you know, there are other times I unexpectedly feel the same way.  Almost always when I observe him playing, interacting with our 3 year old boy.  I melt all over… I just get the urge to make more of his children.  ha… I’m 47 now, so I am trying not to go there while I’m still ovulating.  I often wonder when this “change” that women are always talking about will come over ME.  For the longest time I believed that I could not have children, now I’m hoping that I won’t get pregnant again.  That’s so selfish of me.   I really do wish that my little guy could have a brother or sister, but then it always comes back to the age thing… I really don’t want to be an older mother than I already am.

Getting back to getting the hots in church…. wow.  If there is a place that discourages that sort of thing with only the air within, I’d like to know about it.  But what was that wave really?  Was it really the urge to commit a cardinal sin… but it would be with my lawfully wedded husband, so would that make it a cardinal sin… or any sin?  I suppose so…. Man, don’t let me lead you to believe that I would actually have sex in church… geez, NO… Don’t forget you are entrapped in my brain, and these are my musings just at the moment.

So.  Was it lust, love, tenderness…. bliss?  All of the above because that overwhelming feeling of tenderness can definitely lead to lust… and of course, enhances the love… at least for the moment.  I sort of get transported into the air… definitely a floating, blissful feeling.  I’ll just float on in to lay next to my hubby… wonderful things might happen!

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