I Can...I Think...I Hope...I Pray...Damn! A Poem

I know I can sing.

But does it sound anything like what I hear?

Can you nod once for yes, and nod twice for no?

I need to know.

I know I can sing.

But my kiddles ask me not to.

Does it sound that bad to them or is it distorted by their lack of development?

Can you nod once for yes, and nod twice for no?

I need to know.

I know I can sing.

People have given me accolades after my performance. But was it in truth or just to be kind?

Can you nod once for yes, and nod twice for no?

I need to know.

The birds seem to enjoy my sounds, if they haven't left the tree.

But it is because they are waiting for their next flight plan or just scratching their feet on the bark?

Can you nod once for yes, and nod twice for no?

I need to know.

Babies have giggled, smiled and cood when I sing. But is it because they are gassy, have no muscle control and mimicing only the sounds I was making?

Can you nod once for yes, and nod twice for no?

I need to know.

I know I can sing.

I know I can sing.

I need to know if I can sing.

Will you nod once for yes, and nod twice for no?

I need to know.

I need to know.

I hope I can.

I pray that I can.

Damn!

If I'm having to question so much, I'm thinking I can't. And there just ain't no way around it no matter how many I ask, no matter how much I copy the artist on the radio, no matter how well I think I may do at kaorake, no matter if little grammas give me sweet nothings, no matter if and when the cows do decide to come home.

I need to know.

Can you nod once for yes, and nod twice for no?

I need to know
- because it would meet a great need deep within.
- because I want to be famous for such a talent.
- because I can think of no other gift I'd like than the gift of music to reach the soul of another.
- because I know I can sing and it would hurt too much to know I can't.

Would you just nod once for yes and just leave it at that?

Oh Why!

I have been sitting here with Michael, relaxing, checking out Facebook, my newest addiction.
And we have music playing in the background of which I will stop and listen to what's playing reminisce about the song or the artist or both.

But the longer I've been sitting here and listening, I have returned to the notion that I have always wanted to be a singer. In a stupid and selfish way, I feel like I was jipped in this arena. I know, I know, we are suppose to be grateful for the gifts we were given and not dwell on what we didn't get. But SHIPS AHOY this is definitely one talent or gift that I sooo wished I had been given. I can't emphasize enough the heartbreak I have had over the course of my life, that I was not given this particular talent. I also always wanted to marry a singer - i.e. John Denver, and even dated a guy that looked eerily similar to him but couldn't sing to save his life. Well, there went my dreams out the window of being wooed by a talented singer. Then I met Michael and well, he just swept me off my feet by his good looks and complete willingness to try to understand me, support me and love me for just me being me. Again, no singer but definitely the best catch!

So I didn't get the singer guy, but heck why couldn't I have at least been given an ounce of talent to sing for a career or even for small crowds? That would have at least curbed this longing, this passion this need to sing to an audience of more than myself, and in the shower or car.

I know, I know I could rant and rave about this lack of gifting until the cows came home or until the end times arrive or when hell freezes over. But if it hasn't happened by now, it surely ain't gonna happen in this current lifetime of mine. And that just totally sucks to be me... At least I think so... But what do I know?

What? Huh? What Did You Say?

Okay, I'm realizing that I am spending too much time wondering if any one is going to read my blog. Not because it's great or anything, though the new look is pretty cool. But because I've realized that I have this need to know if people like what I've written. Okay, yes, that is a selfish and egocentric way of thinking. But if I'm honest with myself, then it actually is partially what this blog is about.

One it is a way for me to express myself. As I am better at writing it than articulating it verbally. I was never diagnosed with dyslexia, but I sometimes have wondered in all these years that I may have a mild case of it. I know what I want to say, and can even see the words I want to use, but once it comes out my mouth, well, that's just a whole different story.

Here's a simple example - It is an old one but a classic case for me:

One day, a long time ago, I was trying to tell my friend, Ann, that I had eaten something very yummy. I told her what it was but she was having a problem understanding what it was I was trying to say. She even was asking questions to help me to describe the food item. But I just kept repeating the word, because that was what coming out of my mouth. Well, after about five minutes of confusion, the light bulb went on for her and she just started laughing and could not stop for what seemed like at least five minutes. While she was laughing, I began laughing, though not knowing why I was laughing other than thinking - It was something I said and I wanted to desperately know what it was that was so funny.

Finally after composing herself and trying to reassure me that she wasn't really laughing AT me, she got it through my head that I was saying the food item backwards. I apparently didn't get what she was trying to convey to me but I accepted what she said and tried to say the food item in a more clearer form.

She finally had to ask me, 'do you mean, Fruit Cocktail?' I said, 'Yes, Cock Fruit Tail!' So happy that she finally figured out what I was trying to say. And she said it again, 'Fruit Cocktail, Kim'. And I said, 'Yes, it was Cock Fruit Tail, sheesh!'

Then BANG! like lightening hits a tree - it totally struck me that I was utterly making a fool out of myself by what I was saying.

I had been saying Cock Fruit Tail and I had no clue. Thankfully, she was so patient and sweet about it, though we did have a good laugh at my expense. Oh, well!

So, even to this day, I have transposed that canned fruit name many a times, and many a times probably didn't even realize it.

So in the twenty years that Michael and I have known each other, I have transposed a lot of words in our conversations. And we've gotten a lot of mileage from those incidents.

With all of that said, I just needed a place to get my thoughts down, my emotions in check and hopefully some one out there will enjoy what I write about. But if they don't well, I'll get over it.
I hope... :0}

But if I remind myself the deeper reason of why I have created this blog, which was to express myself through the written word, then I really don't have the need to know what others think.
And so I will just enjoy the process of writing and leave my need for personal gratification of others' opinions aside.

Me, The Dogs, and My Other Compadres...

Nate is an animal lover, especially with dogs. He is just so sweet and loving with them, though the dogs don't always know or understand that. But more often than not, most of the dogs let him do what he will with them and then seem to realize it wasn't so bad.

Nate gets so tickled when he sees a dog especially if the dog is willing to chase him around, lick his face and enjoy Nates amount of rambunctiousness.

I loved this threesome of Nate and had meant to frame them. Apparently that never happened so I had to write about it instead. I can't believe these photos were taken in '07. It's just amazing how quickly time has passed and how much Nate has grown since then.

Despite the foreboding events of the said terrible twos, there is also so much learning, silliness, joy, and great fun during this time. I have actually loved this period despite some rough bumps, and some screaming, yelling and laughing moments.

There still is nothing like this time. It is just a learning experience for all involved. And I know I would not change any of it. Well, okay, I guess I would change a few things but they are minor and thus don't really matter in the scheme of things.

One other thing, the greatest experience is having three very different kiddles at the same age, showing me how much each is truly an individual and each has different needs and has different desires. But the one main thing they all have in common is that they just want to be loved. And with that - I have more love than I could have ever imagined for just one much less three kiddles.

Thank you Nate, Nattie AND Matthew for letting Daddy and I to love you all together and individually. We could never have imagined that you three would make up our family let alone our hearts. Thank you to each of you. I will always love you - Your Momma

Freaking Weird...

Okay, now I get it...

I'm realizing that I've had to live close to half my life before I could even begin to truly understand the ways my brain will still plays games with me. My brain making me think, feel and even act as though I am still in my twenties, yet the 'back to reality' side of the brain reminds me that I actually am forty plus one and that is the trickery of this ol' brain that has taken me back to those feelings, those moments and those events of my twenties.

I've caught myself doing that and I must say it was a freaking weird feeling, and a depressing (for a few moments) realization when I came out of that trance-like state or far away place and time.

Life is such an interesting process to say the least...

And getting older is apparently no picnic either...

Me, Myself and What I Strive To Be...

So, here I am in my early 40's and kind of reassessing life once again. I did this very same thing in my 30's and it proved to be a lot of hard work, rewarding emotionally and spiritually, as well as helping me to not be complacent about my life and where I am headed. I have no idea exactly where I am headed but I know that with out doing any of the hard work, to better myself, I know I would have had a lot more struggles, much more animosity against others, and feel worse about who I was becoming, and who I am on a daily basis.

I can't say that a specific person helped me in any of this but I can say that it was a make up of many people, many events, and a faith that reminded me that I had much to lose and much to gain by taking the steps I did to make amends, to live with a large dose of humility, ask for help without feeling like a burden, and continuously ask myself what areas can I work on to feel like I am becoming the person I feel I was created to be.

That faith I had once before in my 30's has changed tremendously. But I still consider some amount of faith in order to go forward and be what my husband needs me to be, as well as my three kiddles.

I've always been one who worried what people thought of me. I wanted so much to please people, to make the choices they wanted me to make and be sure they knew I appreciated what they did for me. But I know that more often than not, I'd have also very much disappointed those very people by my lack of discipline and procrastination. As I write this, I realize that I often felt a sense of expectation, pressure or what have you - and I'm sure it was I who put that on myself, thus I put off what I should have been doing, which was to please them.

Michael would say I am hard on myself, which is very true, but the pleaser in me seemed too often to be in conflict with myself. In wanting to do the right thing, I'd end up wasting time worrying about getting or saying or creating just the 'right' thing so that I would continue to be in good standing. It's such a psychological game and one I have worked very hard to lessen. BUT the poison is still there I have fallen in to the trap of doing it once again. All I know is that I am better than I was before but it still pisses me off that I still do it. Ugh!

My writing these thoughts help me to see that I'm still evolving. I know I will continue to move forward because I have chosen change over complacency.

One of the persons I want to be is giving my time, my heart, my words, my ears, my understanding to others who have little or no contact with others that take the time for these very things. Or to just be one more person who is interested in the life of another. I have been drawing inspiration from a friends mom, who would make food for the homeless weekly, I believe, and would just hang out and talk with people on the street, providing them not only a meal but conversation and eye to eye contact, that sense of actually existing. I have dreamed many times that I had the kind of money to provide a meal a week to the local street people in Chico. And it is something that I will continue to strive for as my kiddles get older. But I also want them to be a part of this active participation in our community, so that they can have an understanding of what others' lives are like beyond the lower and middle class of our society.

I pray that my kiddles will know, see and experience things of our society that are not all tidy and white America.

It Was Good To Be Young - A Very Simple Poem

The smell of fried chicken wafts throughout the house. Mmmm!

Charlie nips at my heels to take him outside since I'm no louse.

Yesterday pizza, tomorrow pork chops - two meals that I really can't stand.

The washing running, the dryer done, my mom and I playing Candyland.

My siblings are busy, driving to and fro, today is house cleaning, oh no!

My job is to vacuum and dust the whole house, I give it some effort but I feel like going out.

Beef jerky is drying in the oven, one of my favorite treats, I wonder when it will be ready for all of us to eat.

Gymnastics at age six, ballet taken too, soccer at eight and and tennis at ten. But what I really became known for was tennis then.

School was not easy, counting change even more tough, but mom made sure that I couldn't get enough. The summers were for reading and writing book reports, and making me cry was our family dinner repertoire.

Being short among so many so tall, I never lost perspective of where I would fall.

The pecking order I did not like but it was what it was, and forever I am grateful for all the love there was.

My childhood was good, and at times seemed hard but these memories I now hold I simply can not disregard.

As I write this all down, it sure was fun, I am reminded of how good it was to be young.

Is This The Start Of One's Mid Life Crisis?

Man, I've been laying in bed just thinking...and I can't seem to stop the thoughts. For the past two hours I have been going through flashbacks of my much younger years. So much so that I had to get up and write it down in hopes it is somewhat intelligible.

My first memories was recalling the lay out of my elementary school. It was just so weird to be thinking about all the details that I could envision, the number of classrooms, what classroom specifically I was in at various grades. I recalled where the various bathrooms were and the water fountains, as well as fondly remembering all of my teachers. Then I recalled the few spaghetti dinners my mom allowed us to go to. I had to somewhat beg her to go to a spaghetti dinner here or there because she couldn't stand those kinds of school functions, especially having been the last of her five kids. She thought she was out of the woods with those events. Sorry, Ma, to have had to put you through it all over again!

Then...my mind wandered off to when my parents took me to Europe with them, specifically to Austria for a three week vacation. It was the summer of my third year at the local junior college. Wow! I saw myself walking in the woods of the little village we called 'home base' for the three weeks. I was transported back to my room I shared with a girlfriend, that my parents allowed to come with us. The great conversations we had there, the smell of the clean, air-dried feather beds we slept on and those that also covered us. The recollection of just walking the narrow streets of this village and being amazed that I was across the globe, thanks to my parents, and enjoying the amazing Austrian Alps. I was in heaven and singing, quite literally, the 'hills are a live with the sound of music!' Oh, what fun and such freedom I felt among this amazing and beautiful Austrian village. It was truly breathtaking for me... As I write all of this, I realize that I still go back to that time when things get rough in side me and I feel a sense of freedom, happiness, and awe at all that I experienced and enjoyed while there. Thank you, Ma and Pa!

My next movie frame is the old house we used to live in. I pretty much grew up in the house on Palmyra Street. We came to Auburn when I was six and then we moved from that house, so my parents could build their new, architecturally designed and energy efficient home, across town, until my junior year in high school.

Of late, I have been back to this house a thousand times. I've had many dreams of it in various perspectives from when I was really young and where I am now in life. It's been very eerie actually. There have been times those dreams were SO vivid that I was actually reliving those moments, those periods of time and I recall not wanting to awake from my state of dreaming. I remember being happy, carefree, playing outside until it was time to come in for dinner, doing gymnastics on the front lawn, and looking for our dog Charlie when he got out of the house or back yard.

I was remembering where my mom parked her blue Mercedes and where my dad parked his red Mercedes. I remember the days when much of my family would play baseball together in our huge back yard. Or when I got in trouble for riding my bike in the street, after being told I could not, and being sent to my room. I was so mad, not because I couldn't ride my bike, but because my friend Brennan was suppose to be coming over to play with me, and here I was being punished in my room, with the window that faced the patio where the basketball hoop was kept. And I had to watch Brennan shoot baskets without me. What a ding-a-ling.

I loved the times when my brother Dan and I would throw the football or tennis ball in the middle of the street. And always knew he was so proud of me because I threw a ball like a boy and could throw it pretty far for a girl. But when it came to basketball, he was the white man's version of Kareem Abdul Jabar! At least he always thought so (I just chuckled as I wrote that). Unfortunately, I was not made to play basketball with any real significant talent, but that didn't matter to my brother, we just had a good time hanging out, and he showing off all of his shots.

I always called myself the roller skating queen, simply because I thought I was.
I loved to roller skate and during those days, kids were allowed to go anywhere and come home at a specific time. I would roller skate down our hill toward the local recreation park. Actually, I was afraid every time I skated down that hill, simply because I feared I would totally biff it before I got down the bottom of the asphalted road and it would bloody hurt. But fortunately I always made it and was off and skating to my hearts content. Now I was never ashamed about falling or having fallen in front of others simply because I knew I was a good skater and that when I fell, I had just done a stupid mistake or tripped on a small pebble I hadn't seen, etc. So my pride was never hurt. I would just laugh it off. I still do that to this day.
One of the best part was when the gym would be open to skaters and then the REAL skating began. This automatically transported me back to when the music group ABBA was huge. Roller skating was huge during this time and the ultimate fun was when the local gym would have skating hours. This was a time when much of our neighborhood kids would come hang out. We'd rock and roll to ABBA, do some serious speed skating and crash in to each other. We'd be sweating and have to go into the girls' bathroom and dry ourselves off from all the sweat that had poured forth on our bodies. Wow! What memories... "Dancing Queen, only seventeen..."

So, as of late, I don't know why I have been thinking about all of my childhood adventures. I keep wondering if other people my age are having these episodes as well or is it just me? Is it the beginning to my mid-life crisis? I just keep wondering and guessing but have no answers, yet is so fascinating to me. I am thoroughly enjoying this trip and look forward to more sleepless nights and memories to relive.

I've been up since 2am now and am realizing this is not good. Not good at all. I've got two 2 years-old to keep up with (now) today. So, I better hit the hay for a little cat nap. Thankfully, the kiddles are not early risers. Yippee!

Listen... Wake Up... Be There...

Listen... to the still voices deep within you.

Listen... as the wind himself whispers your name in times of sadness.

Listen... to those whose words are encouraging and meaningful to you.

Listen... while your child chatters a conversation you are not a part of.

Listen... to those whose stories have yet to be heard and desiring to be told.

Wake up... to the passions of others as they share with out words.

Wake up... with the intention of making changes that you thought not possible.

Wake up... and help another feel they are worthy of their existence, despite their current situation.

Wake up... with the heart to use your hands and your words : to make a difference beyond your front door, beyond the shopping mall, beyond the church walls, beyond the shopping cart in front of you - To someone standing next to you, in front of you, next door to you and even behind you. There is always someone who needs to know they are valued, they are important, they are not alone...

Be there... despite being uncomfortable with the task at hand. It's not about being comfortable, it's about going beyond yourself for the sake of another.

Big Boy!

Nate has had a lot of interest in using the little potty, but not enough to take his pants off and sit. He will only sit with his clothes on.

But just the other day, he finally asked to sit on the big potty. He climbed up and almost in, but I got him settled and he knew he had to make sure his penis was pointing into the toilet, so he checked that and then just sat and smiled.

I encouraged him to try to go and voila! he went and he was soooooo excited. He took some toilet paper and wiped himself and well, he couldn't have been more proud of himself. We finished the process, did a round of high fives and then did the potty dance! I wish I had the camera rolling. It was so cute. And Nattie cheered him on for doing it all by himself.

It's the simple things in life that make one remain grounded.

My life is simple, but feels complicated, but continues to give me bits of sweetness throughout. Aaah. How sweet it is...

My Little Valentines

Make a Smilebox scrapbook

My, How My Kiddles Have Grown...

Make a Smilebox photobook

Aaaah, Nothing Like A New Look To Be Inspired By...

Well, after many attempts, I finally have a look for my blog that I am happy about. Poor Michael worked hard to get a really cool layout but in the end it didn't do what I wanted it to do...So, I searched far and wide and found, as well as figured out how to create what I wanted...

Hope you will enjoy spending some time here, while I ramble on about life, about people, about my kiddles, and whatever else happens with me and my life as I know it.

I look forward to some thoughts and writings that will come forth via inspiration.

New Year, New Look

Wow, didn't realize it had been so long since I last wrote on this blog.
So, I have decided since we all get to start over fresh, with the new year and all - that I would freshen things up here with a new look, and update the photos, and any new and interesting stories, tidbits, etc.

So come on back and I'll be thinking of things to write about.

See you soon....