“In a consumer society there are inevitably two kinds of slaves: the prisoners of addiction and the prisoners of envy.”

I bought our first “real” sofa today, which is to say I bought our first overpriced, not that well made, new sofa today.  The tossup was between Ikea and Rooms-2-Go.  The brown modular 4 piece sectional at R2G won out based on how well I think it will hold up with two active children and a dog climbing all over it {not to mention Hal and I plopping down after a long hard day _like a ton of bricks_ to do any number of evening activities}.  Ikea definitely better represents our aesthetic preferences, but when I look at those little detachable peg-legs underneath and think about us assembling it in our home {which leads to thoughts of Max and Bella jumping so hard the legs break or those two working as a team to disassemble it in our home}, R2G looks like the better option for what we need.

It is a lower-middle-class accomplishment to acquire brand spanking new furniture.  And you know you fall into the income bracket of “lower-middle-class” when *someone has to die before you can afford to buy a new sofa.  And then, you have to choose between buying the sofa with your inheritance or buying groceries, because even the generous relative who is able to save money, is only able to save a modest amount.

But still… we are counting our blessings because being lower-middle-class is still a better lot than destitution.

To make our home look like a “grown up” home is a pretty big deal.  By “grown up home,” what I mean is a living space that has furniture in each room that represents what that room’s function is and is furniture that we choose because we like it.  Form and function, not just function – KWIM?

It’s the middle-class way of life.

Almost all of our furniture has been given to us or bought for us.  Some of it was thrifted {these pieces are ultimately my favorite in the house}.  However, I really appreciate having something new every-now-and-then.  My favorite overall homey-look is one that ties together the old and new.

Do you also feel like large money purchases are exciting and nauseating all at the same time?  It’s exciting because – OH MY GOD, I can actually buy something that I’ve wanted for the last 15 years!  And nauseating because anytime my ATM gets swiped for an amount larger than what we spend on groceries every week, I can’t stop the fluttering images of monthly necessities from flooding my brain-reel.  Food, kid’s clothing, bills, car repairs, pre-school costs, medical costs, dog expenses and more, all flash through my peeps causing me to throw up a little in my mouth.

Spending a large chunk of change is hard.

Though, damn, I can not wait to stretch out on that big new sofa.  What I bought is a bigger and better couch to lay on while watching TV and drowning out my worries of financial despair.  I’m so fraking excited!!!

OH, and we’re gonna really do it up, too, by kicking-up our punk music posters with some Ikea frames.  Oh yeah.

*Thank you, Grandma! I know you would approve – having appreciated life’s creature comforts, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Totally unrelated to our sofa…

I’m so glad I made the time to study at the library last night.  I would have totally flunked the test today had I blown it off.

The young woman who sits next to me came in late and whispered, exasperated, “Whuh??? We have a test today???” I may have felt a bit smug {having crammed at the last-minute myself} had I not been so acutely able to relate to her flightiness.  She continued to whisper to me with an effort to avoid letting the professor hear her.  I did my best to quietly answer her questions.  However, I was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable when the test was in the process of getting passed out and she wouldn’t stop chatting.  Then, I can’t believe I’m even writing this, when the test was in progress she tried to question me about the test.  Now, I’m annoyed at her utter lack of respect for the fact that her behavior could have a negative affect on someone else – ME.  The last time I checked, what she was doing, and trying to rope me into doing, is called CHEATING.  I went deaf, both times she questioned me, and wouldn’t even so much as look at her.  When I see her on Thursday, I’m going to say something.  This is a fraking ETHICS class for crying-out-loud!  Dummy-Up, kid.

Mama don’t play that.

Kids…

I think their plan, being orchestrated mostly by Max, includes running me down to a shell of a woman.  I would take them somewhere, but I only have so many spoons to dish out in a day.  If you have never heard of, The Spoon Theory, you can read it by clicking on that link.  It is a good read that helps to illustrates the difference in being sick and being healthy.

I have one spoon left in my pocket that I’m saving for the library tonight.

Lupus overlaps with rheumatoid arthritis (RA).  I was diagnosis in 2003, with RA.  I have a lot to say about being sick, but never want to write about it and rarely talk about it.  You would not know I was sick just by looking at me.  Anyway, that’s all for today.

I explained that the difference in being sick and being healthy is having to make choices or to consciously think about things when the rest of the world doesn’t have to.

Halloween!

Lola, dressed as I dunno what, an extra in a Stanly Kubrick film? and The Fairy Princess, BellaGrace:

Our family is growing and I have to say, it is sweet to witness.  However, last night I really did not want Max to hold the two-week old baby because he’s getting over a cold.  When I said ‘no’ for the fifth time, he started crying the most pitiful cry and yelled, “I’M NEVER GOING TO GET TO HOLD AN INFANT!”  He was so upset that, Lola, bless her heart, could not stand it and let Max hold his new cousin. I have to admit, it made this mama’s heart uterus swell to hear her oldest yearn so badly to hold an infant.  I told Max not to talk, kiss, yawn, breath or even look directly into his face.  Sinonie’s cry/scream filled my breast with milk.  While I held him, he turned his head towards the sweet smell of milk wanting to nurse and it took some serious mantra’ing to prevent myself from automatically nursing him.  I had an unexpected and weird sense of tension when feeding him his bottle.  I guess my mama-instinct to nurse, and ability to do so, got kicked in to high gear when faced with a fussing infant. 

Here is Max and Sinonie {who Max loves dearly and made sure to tell him a million times}:

Bella also wanted to hold him, but didn’t resort to throwing a fit about it.  She did help me feed him a bottle, and so gentle she was.  However, she’s got other serious matters to tend to, like waving her wand and carrying her Pug pup:

I neglected to get a photo of Little Sylvia, aka: Mamas {age 2} dressed as Snow White.  I think its likely that Mamas and Bella will grow up being friends.  It is neat that my kids have so many cousins {by extension of our Tongan relatives, about 47 cousins, most of them living in our neighboring town}.

Si {Ninja}, Junebug {Batman}, Nessy {Ninja}, and Max {done Trick-or-Treating and stripped of the hot costume before the cousins arrived.  I can’t imagine being on time anywhere, either, with five children under the age of six in tow.  Hell, I can’t imagine ever leaving the house with that many children.  I’m sure it ain’t easy.}:

BellaGrace, Maxamilian, Si, Junebug, Nessy:

Mamas and BellaGrace:

And this is Max with his, Let’s Get Serious, face letting us know it is time to go Trick-Or-Treating.  His costume was originally, Dracula, but at the last-minute got switched to a Bakugan Player:

I love Halloween.

Home Again.

Mr. Max has been sick all week!  He started running a low-grade temperature last night.  It wasn’t high enough for me to worry or give him Tylenol.  His cough is getting a little more flem. And he’s starting to get cranky.  I think the crankiness is due more to being around me too much, rather than the cold.  We love each other to pieces, but when we are together a lot, we get on one another’s nerves.  There just isn’t enough room in one house for two Alphas.

He’s missing a fun week at school {I am not going to tell him}, because there is a Halloween party tomorrow in his class.  Unfortunately, his pediatrician isn’t available today and I hate making appointments with anyone else in her office unless it is an urgent matter.  His appointment is tomorrow at, 10am.   He needs the doctor’s note to get back into school and while we are there, he’s getting tested for the piggy flu.  I’m not worried that he has it, but of-course I’d like to know.

Voluntary Pre-Kindergarten {VPK} is state funded so they wanna make sure if they are paying a school, the child is going regularly.  More than three absences in one month and you need a doctor’s note.  Hence, our doctor’s visit.  Otherwise, I wouldn’t even be taking him to see his pediatrician this week.  I like to let a cold run for 7 days and a fever for 5, before involving her.

Max and Bella are outside now.  The word, MOMMY, is starting to get on my nerves.  I may have to go for a drive with them later just for a change of scenery.  A lady can only handle being called, mommy_stupid_freak, so many times before she wants to run away.  I’ve started to mimic Max when he starts in on the name calling.  It seems this is the only way to break the tension.  He catches on to what I’m doing and lightens up instantly.  We still use the, stop and let’s take a deep breath/let’s have a do-over, methods of calming each other down.  However, for the name calling that he resorts to when he’s ticked off about something, humor is the best approach.

Our local CSA {Community Supported Agriculture} program, a sustainable organic hydroponic and Earthbox farm, is toying with the idea of monthly payments to join their crop share program.  This would be fantastic for us because it is  rare that we have a large chunk of change any given month to join their current program.  I think it is so important for Max and Bella to know where their food comes from.  Actually, its good for all of us to know where our food comes from.  The CSA is opening a farm stand for the public a couple days a week as well as opening their farm for “pick-your-own” days.  This is so very exciting since it is in the same town as we live in!  I’ve got Max signed up for their Tiny Green Thumbs three-day program that is for ages 4-7.  The program is held on three different Saturdays during the crop season so that the children will be a part of three different activities related to growing the food on this farm.  I’m looking forward to doing  this with Max.  When Bella is four, our whole family can take part in the fun of the Tiny Tots program.  I’m proud of my town for getting a quality CSA program started {the farm is about 10 minutes away from my house!}.  Maybe at some point in the future we can get even more involved with it.

I’m currently looking into composting… wish me luck on follow through!

“Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing worth knowing can be taught.”

It is amazing how strong the pull from outside the home becomes when there isn’t anything potentially dramatic and exciting keeping me inside.  For the hell of it, I decided to take the kids out to lunch at a locally owned diner.  It did occur to me, for a moment, that going out to eat could bring on a melt-down, temper-tantrum or some weird unforeseen random public kid-disaster.  I may regret it.  I may want to get up before I see our food and drag us all back to the van, crying no doubt.  Just for that split second, I considered all this.

Afternoon Cabin Fever was setting in and my usual drug of choice wasn’t as appealing {*cough*, Internet Social Networking Addiction, or ISNA.  Yeah, I just made that up}.  Before we left, I said to Max and Bella, “Now, if you both are good listeners and stay in your seat at the table, we can go to the playground after we eat.”  Max’s eyes lit up.  I have a feeling, however, that my bribe/threat {thinly veiled as “these are the consequences”} of not going if the right behavior didn’t happen, wasn’t even necessary.  And certainly, with Bella, it was pointless – she doesn’t take bribes or threats seriously.  This is partly due to her age, and partly to the fact that she is rarely uncooperative.  It is a rare occurrence for my voice to go down to that serious, deeper Mama-Tone with her.  Max, on the other hand, has this fierce fire-streak of a wild spirit that does not like authority {huh, curious}.  With young children, going out to eat is risky ‘cuz anything could happen – no matter what their personalities are like, they tend to do what-ever they want to do, when they want to do it.  How well they understand the consequences, or care about the consequences, is not always clear.

So we leave the house in good spirits despite my moment of clarity.  The diner is a small family owned business that Hal and I frequented often before having children.  As I lead us toward an open booth the playful sound of little feet are stomping in march-mode behind me.  First, softly.  Then, escalating to a rambunctious series of booms that only two small children could find hysterical.  I expect we will make it to our booth shortly so never turn around to look at them.  I can hear their giggles and in my mind see the accompanying wide smiles.  I feel all the eyes in the restaurant on my children and me, but don’t care enough to figure out whether they are adorning or scolding looks.  Children have the right to bursts of laughter and joy just the same as adults.  We get to the booth and Max decides to sit us at a table.  No problem. One of the women who work there is smiling at me and helps put Bella in a booster.  It warmed my heart to see her pick Bella up and set the seat down.  The gentle way she was holding Bella and smiling at me, I could tell she is fond of young children.

Now let me tell you… we all sat down and had just about one of the most pleasant dining experiences I have ever had with anyone.  We talked, looked at a magazine, laughed, told stories, slowly ate our food.  At one point, Bella started singing, as she is prone to break out in song.  At first, it didn’t even occur to me that she was getting loud.  She sang like she was on Broadway for about a minute before I said to her, “sing softly, sweet-pea, like you are singing a special song to our table because we don’t know if everyone in the restaurant wants to hear a song now.”  Though, why anyone wouldn’t want to hear BellaGrace belt out an a cappella, Mary Had A Little Lamb, is beyond my comprehension, beyond all sane reason.

Max and Bella reminded me today, that their behavior generally reflects my attitude and mood {unless they are tired or hungry, then their behavior reflects something closer to A Goblin On Crack-Rock}.

Lunch and the playground experience went without a hitch.  We were at the park for about two hours.  The sky was a strong over-cast threatening to rain but never once squeezing out a drop. It was nice being shielded from the heat rays of our relentless Florida sun.  Max and Bella played with their cousins who, along with my mother-in-law, joined us for the park outing.

Our pleasant day occurred while Max was home from school due to a cold that’s producing a deep throaty cough.  The cough started Monday night, and hasn’t brought with it a fever or tummy ache.  It is a sick-sounding, annoying for him cough.  Just yucky enough for us to keep him out of school.  Theoretically, he should have been a cranky-pants personality train wreck, but he wasn’t.

I will be a little sad to send him back to school once he’s feeling better.

“Love is staying up all night with a sick child — or a healthy adult.”

Max woke last night with a nasty cough around 3am.

He stood at our door until I told him to go back to bed. I could hear loud, hoarse coughing that wasn’t easing up.  Reluctantly, I dragged my sleep-deprived and heavier than usual body out of her light slumbering state to check in on him {do sober parents ever fall into a deep unbreakable sleep when their babies are young?}.  Stepping over the baby gate locked at the entrance to our room without kicking it, or falling on my ass, is tricky.  It’s there to stop the little ones from making it under our covers.  It’s amazing how stealthy they are at two in the morning.  That short little hole filled wall felt half as tall as me as I heaved one leg at a time over it.

I popped my head in.  Max was sitting up, looking pitiful, just pitiful. He looked like he needed a hug. “Awe sweetie, how are you feeling?” In such a sleepy state I forgot how big of a question that is for a little one. He quickly reminded me of the last time he was ill, when I said: I like to sleep close to my little ones when they are not feeling well. I’m certain at this point he has a file in his head of every little thing I say that can benefit any given situation he’s in.  He was stating his argument to sleep close to me before I could suss out how sick he was.

“Come get in bed with us, Littleman.” I say.

I hoisted his heavier than usual body up over the Mt. Everest Baby Gate. We crawled into bed, our bodies together like a perfect cut-out puzzle fit.  I fell back to sleep instantly. I believe he did, too.  He snuggled tight and warm up to my back between Hal and I.

This is his favorite spot in the world, I know, as every time he sees mom and dad snuggling in bed he shouts, “ALL RIGHT, LET’S PARTY!”  His glee accompanied by the biggest smile you can find on a kid’s face and a little body that insists on squeezing its way between the two grown ups.  Day or night, sleep or play, the boy loves being physically close to his parents.

I kept the kids home from school today, and I’m pumping their little bodies with a set of trusty herbs.  ‘Tis the season.

“Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand instead of a million count half a dozen, and keep your accounts on your thumb-nail.”

I’m taking a part of this life back.  Back to a time when reading books and pertinent articles, writing my heart out, and friendship were the only past times I knew.  No more Facebook, no more Hipmama, no more reading blogs that often, I’m not even sure why I read.  I’m taking back leisure time.  I’m redefining who I am, knowing that words could never fully give that answer.  Who I am has to be felt in your heart.  In the hearts of those I love.  In my own heart.

I deactivated the ‘ol Facebook account, yesterday.  There was a pull throughout the day to check my e-mail and when I finally gave in, there was nothing there.  Such a let down.

The first e-mail came around 10pm, while I was at the library with Liz.  The beauty of this… it was Tia, a real life friend {a new friend, who ironically found me through the internet}.  She was writing to coordinate our next get-together.  A person I know!   Not… the 10 strangers commenting on another person’s FB blurb that I also commented on.  This is a person who I will be able to hug this week.  That one e-mail was better than the 30 a day I’d often get from FB.

I needed the internet after I gave birth to Max.  I was isolated, alone, no one around me understood what new mommahood was like.  Reaching out to cyber-world for a mama-connection was the best thing I could do.  Certainly, it was the easiest thing.

Other than Miss. Moon, who I’m still looking forward to meeting for the first time in January, I have not met any of the amazing women I know on-line, and I’m pretty sure that I never will.  This is not bleak or sad, it is what it is – reality.  The internet created a type of connection to others that I didn’t have in real life.  That connection got me through many rough patches.

But don’t think I haven’t asked myself,

“If I didn’t have so many internet friends, would I have tried harder to make friend’s in real life, or would I have just fallen into a state of severe loneliness and depression?”

I don’t know the answer to that.  All I know is that I am grateful for the women I met on-line {mostly through Hipmama – which, I swear, saved my mental life many of times these past five years}.

But now, its time to go back to a simpler way of being, the way life was before children.  When free-time meant reading, writing, ~ talking ~ and ~ time ~ with ~ friends.  Already, I feel better.  Time feels bigger.

Today, the kids and I are meeting Katie at a local park.  She called me.  We spoke on the phone.  So small and yet, so damn satisfying.

In case the: “Why are you writing this?” of the last post is not clear…

I’m not suggesting that people should shut up about privilege. Quiet the opposite, actually. I’m interested in a dialogue about it, not so much interested in explaining/hearing why people get offended or postulating anything else about other people’s reactions. Nothing against what the commenter said, I agree with her 100%!  Just want to make sure my intentions are clear.  I’d like to keep the conversation moving forward instead of potentially derailing it too much on why someone may get offended by what I am saying, that is for them to sort out. I’m doing my best to communicate all this with written word, and yeah, I’m no pro at it, but I’m not totally incapable. Now, if you feel offended by what I am saying, that is something I am interested in. Maybe my wording isn’t accurate or maybe I need to rethink the thesis.

I am really interested in what other people think about their own privilege IRL, when the context of a situation makes it appropriate and on line by writing about it. I also mentioned that other folks could add on to the list. My mom is a diagnosed by-polar/schizophrenic/personality disorder sufferer, has been since I was age 11 or so. This disadvantage for herself and her family was not originally included on that list. I added the mental health issue, as well as other privileges towards the bottom.

I appreciate having come across this little self-test because it has helped in thinking about the privileges along side of the disadvantages I experienced growing up. And as an adult, I like to keep these two bits of self-knowledge handy. I think understanding privilege helps to understand the way people, from an anthropological, personal, and professional perspective, move through and experience our world. This is not just about understanding myself, it would be easier that way, but really its about more than that.

My understanding, is that this exercise is about recognizing and acknowledging personal privilege.  It is not meant to “say” anything about you on a personal level.  And if you gain some understanding of your own privilege, then it may help in understanding situations that arise with people who may not have the same set of privileges.  I see it as an exercise in compassion.

Of-course, the ability to think about this and the time, space, and resources to consider privilege is a huge part of having privilege. My point is, having privilege IS NOT A NEGATIVE. However, not acknowledging it can be.  Not talking about it can be. Not recognizing it can be. So this is a learning process. I do feel like I need to be educated, continuously throughout my life on various topics – some new and some revisited because times change.

Maybe you don’t want or need to answer the question, What privileges did I grow up with? in this space or any other. That is your prerogative, I’m not insisting that you do or suggesting that you should. Did you read the link, “What we mean when we talk about confronting privilege” ? That is all I’m doing here. Broaching the subject.

If you have any thoughts about privilege, what it is, means, ect., and have the time/space to write about it here, I am very interested!

OH, PS: It was not the Quaker site that the quiz originally came from. Here are the original creators:

http://wbarratt.indstate.edu/socialclass/social_class_on_campus.htm

This link is referenced in the first paragraph of the Quaker blog.

I’m okay with crickets on this blog.  Meaning, I have learned to accept that not many people read and those who do don’t want to comment.  No pressure cyber land!  Just putting it all out there!

Got Privilege? Of-course You Do.

… I should recognize that I am where I am not just of my hard work, but also because by chance I was born into a privileged position that made my success more likely.

~ What Tammi Said

Attempting conversation about privilege with adults outside my small circle of friends has been difficult.   People get defensive.  They shut down.  They ignore the word “privilege”.  They derail the conversation.  I get the impression that people, in general, may feel offended that I would even suggest that what they are doing or where they are  in life can be attributed to any other reason than their own hard work.  There is some kind of mental block that prevents almost everyone from thinking about how their personal privilege has influenced their lives. I am often perplexed and saddened when otherwise intelligent adults have such a hard time broaching this discussion.

Talking about privilege, more specifically, your privilege,  does not make you a bad person.  It is not a laundry list of all the things you have gotten unearned in life that identify you as sexist, racist, or homophobic.  What I am doing when I bring up your privilege, or my privilege, or their privilege in any given situation is only a:

“… recognition of the social hierarchy that is our culture.”

If you want to learn more about what your privileges are, gain an understanding of how they have put you where you are today {for better or worse}, and how your privileges marginalize others who have lived without those privileges, please read these links:

“What we mean when we talk about confronting privilege”

“What privileges do you have?” This is a quiz you can give yourself and that I have taken below.  It is a quiz to assess what privileges you grew up with and does not necessarily include the privileges you have now.

“White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Backpack” by Peggy McIntosh.  I have linked to a website that has posted this brilliant article but you can also read the PDF version/file here: http://www.uakron.edu/centers/conflict/docs/whitepriv.pdf

This is a lot of information.  A lot of reading.  If just one person reads just one of those links with an open mind, it would make me so happy.  And if just that one person gains a better understanding, or confirmation of what they already know as truth, about their privilege, this post will not be in vain.  So please, read.

Below, is a list of privileges that you may have grown up with.  I highlighted each one that applies to me.  **I have also added on to the quiz, and I’m sure others could add on as well.  The people who made the quiz were college students {2003, or around that time} and I think the majority of them were between ages 18-24.  So, I am taking this quiz as if I am that age.  Since my youth, my mom has gone on to attend college {yet to graduate, but I think she will}, however, I grew up not having a college educated parent.  Therefore, I did not highlight those privileges.  I separated the privileges at the end that I felt needed to be added to the quiz.

Father went to college
Father finished college
Mother went to college
Mother finished college
Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor.
Were the same or higher class than your high school teachers
Had more than 50 books in your childhood home
Had more than 500 books in your childhood home
Were read children’s books by a parent
Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18
Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18
The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively
Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18
Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs
Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs
Went to a private high school
Went to summer camp
Had a private tutor before you turned 18
Family vacations involved staying at hotels
Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18
Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them (A $250 Ford Futura)
There was original art in your house when you were a child
Had a phone in your room before you turned 18
You and your family lived in a single family house (after I turned 11)
Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left home (see above)
You had your own room as a child
Participated in an SAT/ACT prep course
Had your own TV in your room in High School
Owned a mutual fund or IRA in High School or College
Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16
Went on a cruise with your family
Went on more than one cruise with your family
Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up
You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family

*************

Neither one of your parents were addicted to drugs or alcohol at any time before you turned 18
You and no one in your immediate family were physically abused by one or both of your parents
You and no one in your immediate family were mentally, verbally, or emotionally abused by one or both of your parents
You grew up able-bodied including quality mental health You grew up in a mentally healthy home with mentally healthy parents
You have always been cisgendered
You grew up believing/knowing you are heterosexual                                                                                                          Both parents were the same race making it easy to explain or obvious to others “what” you are

You may be wondering why this is important.  I would say that race, gender, sexuality, class and body/mind ability play huge roles in how you move through your day to day as well as what opportunities are presented to you.  If I can recognize this on a personal level, it makes it easier to recognize and address it on a social, professional, and cultural level.  I’ve been pretty good at acknowledging and recognizing but it is still really difficult to talk about.  I want my children to know what they have that was not earned and to appreciate it.  I especially want for my son to recognize his gender privilege so that he can be a part of the working solutions instead of part of the problem regarding issues that women face in our world.  I want my daughter to know that she can do what-ever she wants, and to know how to spot, talk about, and break the glass ceiling in any given situation.

I know most folks move through their day to day without much thought to any of this.  I don’t think about it all the time, either.  Though, there are conversations and situations that come up often, I’d say several times a week, that bring my mind back to the topic of Privilege.

* Thank you, Janine, for the links. You are a consistent provider and supporter of quality information.

notes from my first getaway…

• when you’re waiting for a plane to arrive, the journey is easy to enjoy.
• i wonder what folks occupied their time with before the computer/cell phone age?  i wonder what this airport scene looked like in the 1950’s?  somehow, not having a computer or fancy phone makes me feel better off.
• seeing earth from 10,000+ feet above amplifies how fragile her skin is.  so far away, i’m looking through a microscope for the first time.  the vulnerability of  her body to the ocean’s power-hand tidal-wave makes me want to move to a middle-state of the USA.  start that commune i dream about daily.
• tiny boxes covering every inch right up to the Gulf.  unnoticeable until you’re looking down on it.
• being above the clouds, looking up, and seeing outer space makes me feel excited like a child.
• gulf-trees marking land, making their water-way through neighborhoods and cities.  tree trunks strong with curly liquid water fingers.  life flowing through on the edges.  life that i take for granted like breathing every day.  autumn colored branches stretched out marking territory, threatening those tiny little boxes with the power to fold a wave right over.  all you see while on land is more equity.  what i see from here is a painting.  note to self: always sit on the side of the plane facing east when traveling north or south.
• i am here.  don’t forget this beauty.  oh the luck of a bird to fly above, in the safety of our sky.
• touchdown excited, the only touchdown that i get excited about.
• embrace.  love.  yay!  we are here together!
• dinner at a vegetarian Indian restaurant.  ghee took my vegan ways to a land of rich spices that molested my palate.
• so.  much.  delicious food.  all the while, my brain is soaking up the company of a friend who i hadn’t seen in far too long.  i always feel awkward in social situations, a sign that i don’t get out enough, don’t talk with other adults enough, don’t see grown up eyes enough.  it took a minute for me to relax into this new environment of face to face conversation.  but only a minute.
• home to my cozy weekend home.  sung a familiar song to The Boy of the house.  he takes a surprisingly instant liking to me.
• relaxed.  slept through the night…
• coffee run first thing in the morning {Iz doesn’t drink coffee or tea!  CRAZY!}.  The Boy in his jammies, cute as can be.
• off to abuela and abuelito’s for a visit and so The Boy can spend the day.
• lunch at the only place i have die hard love for, soul vegetarian.  any city that i am in that she is in, i must visit with her.
• after lunch, krispy kreme HOT melt in my mouth orgasmic doughnut delish!
• museum next… high.
• Leonardo.  unreal, the genius of this one person.
• saw a photograph of a restaurant called, “The Shanty,” and thought of friends back home, giggled a little at the silly connection i made to the photo.
• got a visual burst of decorating bliss looking at the furniture, discovered this is my favorite part of the museum… would love to go to a strictly furniture museum to look at vintage Eames and original farmhouse rockers and kitchen tables – just couldn’t get enough.  there just wasn’t enough.
• home, drinks – starting at 8am – talked late into the night – which for me was 11:30pm.
• another blissful night of uninterrupted sleep.
• woke up excited to see my family again.  everything was going smoothly on their end… not many tears for mama, none from BellaGrace.  they are so independent.  can’t imagine where they get that from…
• drive, gifts, airport, frenzy, gaiety, oh i can’t wait to see Hal, max, and Bella.  feeling so grateful for Iz and Jack, the good man in the making.
• finally, max sees me.  the look of relief and happiness is who he is in those moments.  embrace.  he looks older, sounds different, changed somehow.  i am all kisses, hugs, and joy.  BellaGrace is snoozing, Hal is full of love.
• good to be there.  good to be here.
• and home to a clean home i am.