Happy Mother’s Day!

Mother’s Day is coming up and I am lucky enough to have two mothers.

Sherri, who gave birth to me, and Alice, who raised me.

For years while I was growing up, I would think of my birthmom on Mother’s Day and wonder if she was thinking of me as well.

And she was.

There are other important women in my life who I celebrate on Mother’s Day.

My Grandma is 94 years old.

I remember her cooking special meals for me when I visited her in Pennsylvania – pierogis, meatloaf, anise cookies, and piggies (stuffed cabbage).

Her recipes will always be my comfort food.

I also think of my sister, Lisa, on Mother’s Day.

Although she only has fur babies, she is the closest thing my boys have to a second mother and her role in our family is very important.

Also, there’s my Aunt Stacey, my cousin Jennifer, and my niece Bella, who I love and admire greatly. They are real warrior princesses and I’ll love them forever for accepting me into the family when times were rough.

Finally, I think of Barbara, my dear friend.

Her mother has passed away and so my heart goes out to her on Mother’s Day when I know she acutely feels the loss of her mom.

Of course, it’s impossible to think about Mother’s Day without thinking about the two young men who made me a mother in the first place – my sons Duncan and Gavin.

What incredible young men they are growing up to be and I find myself in awe of their spirit and zest for life.

They are, by far, the best things to ever happen to me and I thank the universe on a daily basis for allowing me to be their mother.

So on this Mother’s Day, I’m sending out my love to all the mother’s out there and all their beautiful children.

That includes YOU!

Toilets and Love

My sister tagged me in a Facebook post calling me “the eternal love optimist.”

Along with that sentiment came her “two cents” on the topic.

diarrheaLove is the best feeling.

But finding a toilet when you have diarrhea is better.

Hmmmm.

Perhaps in the moment.

I remember one time my ex-husband had the trots and we were LITERALLY A BLOCK from our house when he made me pull over so he could use the bathroom at McDonalds.

A BLOCK!

I’m sure at that time I held little value for him where as the toilet was a thing of beauty.

If I remember correctly, I think I was laughing a little bit at his plight.

Or at least trying not to laugh and failing miserably.

Let’s face it, the superiority of love over toilets doesn’t need to be proven.

It’s just a fact.

Toilets can’t love you back.

They can’t keep you warm in bed.

And they can’t hug you when you’re feeling down.

They certainly can’t give you an orgasm.

At best they can make you feel all tingly inside, but that’s just a temporary side effect of poor blood circulation.

The point to my sister’s post (and I think this is key to the difference between us) is that I am an optimist and expect love to fall in my lap at some point in the future whereas my sister is a pessimist and has found other ways to keep herself happy.

I suppose when you’re a mobile nurse driving from home to home in the Nevada mountains, finding a toilet could feel similar to falling in love.

It could.

But it’s not.

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Valentine’s Day and the shit storm of social media

michelleI’m bracing myself for it.

I know it’s going to come.

I’m going to log in to Facebook on February 14th and I’m going to be INUNDATED with people professing their love for one another.

It’s going to be a real shit storm.

Now, I’ve got to be honest.

When you coupled up people post how awesome your partner is and how much you love them on EVERY ANNIVERSARY, I throw up a little in my mouth.

Really?  Is that truly necessary?

Every fucking anniversary?

We get it.  You’re in love.

After all, you’re still together, right?

I just assume you think your partner is awesome and that you love them.  That’s the status quo folks.  You don’t need to post it.

It’s rather annoying, but O. K.

Then Valentine’s Day hits and my Facebook feed is filled with declarations of love and. . .

OMG, I puked a little just thinking about it.

You know what I want to hear?

I want to hear how much you love your partner when they give you their kidney when yours go bad.  Or when they stay up all night long watching over you because you are sick.  I want to hear that you love your partner when they drive 300 miles to pick you up because you got a flat tire in the middle of nowhere.  Or when they came and cleaned up your cat that got eaten by a coyote because you couldn’t bear to do it yourself.

But some trumped up, pink and red holiday sentiment just doesn’t do it for me.

Keep it real folks, that’s all I’m saying.

Just keep it real.

 

A time for everything under heaven

IMG_471718 years ago today, my heart tore in half when my son Douglas died of cancer.

The hospital room was so quiet and it smelled of tears. Tears that fell from my eyes like endless rivers of sorrow.

I thought I’d never stop crying.

I stopped believing in God. Stopped singing.

My ex husband got me a dog, Mac, to get over my grief and having that dog to pour all my love into brought me back to life.

He was a four legged replacement for the son I lost.

Sadly, 8 years ago today (on the 10 year anniversary of Douglas’ death), Mac’s life ended in a freak freeway accident on Highway 80.

So you COULD say that September 22 is my least favorite day of the year.

You could say that but you’d be wrong.

Because instead of spending the day grieving, I spend the day with my sons and my family, having fun and feeling alive, instead of mourning.

It gives me an opportunity to HONOR my loved ones but also gives me the chance to CELEBRATE everything that is wonderful and beautiful in my life.

Especially the two sons that I have.

So happy September 22nd, to all my friends. I hope it’s a happy one for you too.

Just Another Way to Bleed, reposted

I’ve been thinking about Anti-Valentine’s Day and how it seems like a lot more fun than Valentine’s Day.

I took the liberty of putting together some swag for Anti-Valentine’s Day which I found incredibly entertaining.

Hope you enjoy…

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 And of course what kind of holiday would it be if you didn’t have a glass to toast with?

imageBecause drinking is par for the course on Anti-Valentine’s Day.

imageBut don’t be too hard on yourself. Indulge in a little self love.

image Because don’t forget a little bitterness is in order.

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 And remember, you’re one bad ass bitch.

imageSo embrace your inner witch.

imageA broken heart isn’t the end of the world.

imageSo don’t go playing with one of these

imageAnd if all else fails…

imageHappy Fucking Valentine’s Day to you.

image“Love sucks. Sometimes it feels good. Sometimes it’s just another way to bleed” ~ Laurell Hamilton

Love is…

michelleThis post is going to remind me that I am always surrounded by love. Just because my life is missing a few pieces doesn’t mean that I don’t have a lot to be thankful for.

LOVE IS:

A father who defrosts your car in the morning so you don’t have to.

A friend who calls you on your birthday.

A brother who treats your children like they’re his own.

A best friend who always gives the best advice, but only when she’s asked to.

A sister who lets you call her at 3 AM when you’ve just had your heart broken.

Girlfriends who always tell you how beautiful and thin you are no matter what you look like or what size you are.

A birth mother who saves your voicemails so she can hear the sound of your voice over and over again.

A cousin who lets you hang out with her because she knows you be alone otherwise.

A mother who looks after you when you are sick, no matter how cranky and needy you are.

A grandmother who always sends a birthday check, no matter how small her fixed income is.

Boys who race to the front door and throw their arms around you when you get home after work.

Dog kisses.

All things considered, that’s a pretty good list. I’ll remind myself to read it when I’m having a pity party for one,

Magic always comes with a prince

Disney loveMagic always comes with a prince

At least that’s what Disney and Hollywood lead you to believe.

Of course lately, there’s been less focus on the prince and more focus on the heroine, but you get the picture – love, above all, makes the story.

And how are we single ladies supposed to feel about this in real life?

Well, I’ll tell you, being single has never hurt my social life. In fact, I think I get out more and do more things simply because I don’t have a partner to hang out at home with eating pizza and drinking beer with on a Saturday night.

Being single didn’t hurt me when I was racing cars at the Stockton 99.

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Being single especially didn’t hurt me when I was leaping from an airplane with a hot man and a parachute strapped to my back.

And it certainly didn’t hurt me when I went to the Alameda County Fairgrounds and ran with the bulls.

photo 4No, being single hasn’t hurt one bit.

Even my more carnal urges somehow manage to get taken care of.

So what then is my life missing without a man to “complete” me?

The answer is nothing.

I have friends and family who give me love and camaraderie and lovers who give me intimacy.

Everything else is icing on the cake.

Sure, it’s magical when life and love come with a prince.

But it sure as hell isn’t required.

Magic, is what you make of it.

Romantic

MichelleI’ve been thinking a lot about love lately, and how we express it.

I love a man who holds a woman’s hand in public. The other day I saw an older couple holding hands in the park and it made me pause in my mental stream just to admire their affection for each other.

Or even an arm around her shoulders is nice. Plenty of love flowing when he’s got an arm draped over her and is pulling her in close.

I suppose you could say I like PDAs, or rather I’m a fan of the emotion that leads to the spontaneity of a PDA. When someone succumbs to a feeling of love or lust or both and reaches out to touch their partner in a special way – hand holding, arm around the shoulders, kiss, hug, etc. – I just get a little weak in the knees.

But my favorite sign of affection is the “just because” gift. The surprise takeout meal he brought home because he knew you’d be tired and not want to cook. The card he left for you on your windshield.  Just because.

I once had a boyfriend come over my house and wash my car for me. Just because it needed it. SUPER great surprise, btw. As I recall I thanked him most thoroughly.

I had a boyfriend once copy the entire e.e. cummings poem ‘i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)’ poem into an ENORMOUS card he crafted for me out of posterboard. I cherish that card as much as I cherish the notes and papers my boys have given me over the years.

I think romance however, isn’t about getting the big things right. It’s about not missing the little opportunities to show that you care.

So throw out your old bills. Save your old love letters. Hold someone’s hand. Make someone know how special they are to you.

Broken heart

A month ago I suffered a loss in my life of a relationship that meant a lot to me. With a person I thought very highly of.

Recently that loss was compounded and my heart was ripped open to bleed and hemorrhage all over again.

I’d like to say I handled it like a lady and quietly mourned my losses. But I didn’t.

I turned (understandably) into a bitch and lashed out at the source of my suffering.

I’ve since calmed the fuck down and am now able to slowly recover from my trauma, in the best way I know how…

…by perusing Pinterest for broken heart quotes and picking my favorites for this post.

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Will anyone love me like that?

Today, Facebook popped up a story about a woman’s double mastectomy and I felt compelled to read.

She wrote:

“My husband and my boys (literally, my own little band of brothers) pretty much carried me through the battlefield. I mention that, because you deserve something great in your life, so I want you to set the bar high. A man who looks upon your scars and sees strength and courage . . . grace . . . and beauty. Not broken. Not impossible to love. Worthy of love. Believe.”

My immediate reaction was sadness.   Not for her but for me.

I’m not sure anyone will ever love me that way and boy would it feel good to be loved like that.

It’s been 10 years since my divorce. Enough time to have some relationships. Enough time for those relationships to fail. And even though I know nothing is wrong with me, I can’t help but wonder why it hasn’t happened for me yet.

Is there no great love affair destined for me in my future?

Should I resign myself to being a “temporary lover?”

Always a bridesmaid, never the bride, so to speak?

I can practically hear my friend Michelle echoing the sentiment to “set the bar high.” She’d likely say that when a man doesn’t measure up, I mold myself into something that fits. Something that isn’t me. And that’s non-sustainable.

She may be right.

At least I’m still out there. At least I’m still looking.

I may not be getting it 100% right, but failure is illuminating what’s not right for me.

All I have to do it get it right once.

How hard can that be?