Long Days, Short Years, Stiff Drinks

This morning I noticed that I was very short tempered.  Tiny things that wouldn't normally bother me were making me red hot mad in an instant.  After snapping at the boys for a very minor infraction I stepped myself back.  Whoa, sister.  What's up? Then it hit me.  All at once.  It started as that familiar sweeping feeling of sadness that literally takes my breath away.  Then the sort of scratchy, antsy feeling inside my chest followed.  Like I wanted to run away but couldn't and it wouldn't help anyway. Ah.  It's Father's Day.  My first without one.  A father, I mean. Last Father's Day I gave him a really great insulated water bottle to take with him to the golf course.  So he could stay hydrated and healthy.  I'd been nagging him to drink more water.  Little did we know he was already sliding into stage four by then. Has it really been nearly a year since this all began? I've been ignoring it all w...

By nature, I'm a high strung person.  As I've mentioned before, I yell a lot.  I'm fairly controlling and I want things to be just right and just right usually means my way.  I get totally bent out of shape when things don't go the way I planned.  And I do this all to myself.  No one puts more pressure on me than me.  I recognize these traits in myself (I refuse to call them flaws...they are beneficial when it comes to many enterprises) and I accept them.  Lucky for me, my family and friends seem to do the same.  My husband rolls with the tide of my crazitude and doesn't even resent me for it. Life with little kids is crazy stressful on its own.  They drive parents bananas with their constant and unceasing demand for care and attention and to rub salt into our already weeping wounds they turn it up a notch with messes upon messes and pushes of buttons and back talking and heart stopping risk taking and more and more and more and at the ...

Let's face it.  We're going through a rough spot.  I'm not completely blaming you...I take my share of the responsibility for the frustrations in our relationship but without the tie that holds us together legally, spiritually, ethically, and otherwise we probably would have kicked each other to our respective curbs by now. You'd have tired of my constant and relentless righting of wrongs and I'd have exhausted all of my methods to do so without excessive dissatisfaction and we'd have thrown in the towel, amicably parting ways but relieved to be done with the struggle. But we will survive this rocky period, and the many more we will face, not only because of the deep and unfaltering love we feel for one another but because we've vowed to remain committed, through  highs and lows, as long as we draw breath.  I am steadfast in that commitment and there is no one I love more than you... But we have work some work to do. Communication is a challenge...

I love my boys with all my heart.  I give them all I’ve got, day in and day out, in an effort to raise healthy, productive, happy members of society.   I’m not afraid to admit, however, that sometimes all I’ve got is not that much .   I’ve slipped into some shameless parenting habits that, although very necessary for my own happiness and sanity at times, are not necessarily what one would consider primo parenting.  Since I make no qualms about it (I mean shameless in the literal sense here) I will share them with you in an effort to make you feel better about your own human raising.   Yelling/Screaming/Acting Like a Crazy Person:  I’m a yeller.  Always have been.  It hit home that I do this all too frequently when I heard my 18 month old screaming incoherently at the dogs when they were barking at the mail lady.  You know, just like I do.  Under the Breath Cussing:  It is not at all uncommon for me to let loose a pr...

I received a notice from Houston Hospice this week telling me that my loved one had been gone now six months.  Has it really been that long? Sometimes it feels like it was yesterday.  Sometimes it feels like it's always been.  The letter let me know that even though I am starting to feel like I can move on, my life is different now.  I'm finding a new normal.  And all of that is true. I'm coming to a point in this process, at least from the perspective of duty, where things are wrapping up.  We've emptied every closet, sorted through every drawer, and parceled out personal effects among each other and extended family.  We've gone through files, photo albums, desks, and emptied an attic filled almost entirely of my own stuff from childhood.  We've moved furniture, taken down framed photos and artwork, and carefully wrapped dishes we will never use again. Some of this work was very, very difficult.  I would leave his home drained of tear...

Ever heard of the ancient Native American ritual of Temazcal ? Neither had I.  While planning for my yoga retreat at Maya Tulum  (which was AWESOME) I ran across a description of it amongst the spa offerings.  It billed itself as total release of physical, emotional, and spiritual toxins.  Hmmmm.  I could use a good inner cleanse, I thought.  And that is exactly what I got, and more. It basically works like this.  They stoke up a great big fire and heat large lava rocks until they glow with heat.  They carry those giant embers into the steam lodge (pictured above) and drop them into a fireplace in the middle.  The door then shuts so it is completely dark inside; you cannot see your hand in front of your face dark.  Then the ceremony leader, a young Aztec man in our case, pours water and special herbs and salts and things over the rocks to create steam.  It gets hot as hell.  Like, really, really hot.  They do ...

I know what you're thinking.  Thank goodness!  It's about time that girl got herself in therapy.  She sure as hell needs it. But alas, you are wrong. Per usual, I'm self therapizing, but this time, it's in a super healthy and wonderful way. On Saturday I leave for a much awaited, excessively needed, and very exciting week long solo trip to Mexico for rest, relaxation, reflection, and healing.  Twice daily yoga, spa treatments, the beach. In short, my personal heaven. I originally had this trip booked for September 19.  That didn't work out.  So I rebooked for post holidays when I anticipated being more able to reflect, more willing to truly enjoy myself, more capable of having a quiet mind, and more ready to receive all of the healing benefits of salt, sweat, and sun. I'm ready, friends.  I.  Am.  Ready. I haven't felt this optimistic in quite some time.  Since before you know what. I catch glimpses of this optimism i...