I dump a lot of thoughts here about life, depression, my children, and my art. I am a Mama and an Artist. I am work
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I don't mistake myself for some great writer. I don't think people use this platform the way that they used to. Sometimes I just find the odd moment to dump my thoughts out somewhere and this to happens to be available right now.
I am tired tonight, and I cleaned up the kitchen, set up the kids for the start of our school day, printed out more school work for my kids, and make sure the laundry is getting dry. I also repainted our chalkboard wall too and researched how best to get the chalk markers off of it for next time. I am tired.
My husband went up and straight to bed and I am concerned about how busy this weekend will be. All good things, but still busy. My oldest has a book club she is part of that she is going to. I have a closing art reception to go to while she is there. Saturday is super full, with a fun trip planned with my older brother and his wife, then coming home immediately to meet with my other brother and his wife who are giving us their old van, since ours was slowly dying and I refused to keep driving it with my kids.
Full. Our time is full. And it leaves little time for my husband and I to connect. Its hard to be mad when he has been killing himself to provide for us, as well as taking on dishes and kitchen duty all last week, without being asked. I'm not mad at him for being tired, and I'm not even mad he went and fell asleep tonight. I just miss him and want to snuggle up and watch a show, but that feels like a luxury we don't have right now. I'm sure it will slow down though, eventually.
It is his birthday next week and I am curious if I can buy myself something slutty to wear and send him pictures of all day while he's at work. That thought makes me happy. Maybe that's what I'll go do!
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MY KIDS WOKE UP AND WERE LIKE MOM WE NEED TO LISTEN SO NOW WE'RE HAVING A LISTENING PARTY WHILE THEY D THEIR DAILY JOURNALS
OH MY GOD HERMES
JUST YES. YESSSSS.
So vengeance saga
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Things I have begun to do in 2024
Care less about what people think of me and my choices
Let myself prioritize things. If I can't do something and have to wait, I accept that.
Learn how to wear thongs and fishnets.
Take and send spicy photos to my husband on a nearly weekly basis. With zero shame over how much he loves me and how much I love him.
Do better about morning routines with my kids and how to make it suck less.
Realize I have just as much wisdom to add to my family as anyone else.
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Its insane how often I quote this.
ℍ𝕠𝕔𝕦𝕤 ℙ𝕠𝕔𝕦𝕤 (𝟙𝟡𝟡𝟛) | 𝕕𝕚𝕣. 𝕂𝕖𝕟𝕟𝕪 𝕆𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕘𝕒
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Every Year of course!
Hocus Pocus (1993) dir. Kenny Ortega
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Four Years Later
Its been four since my Dad died. And my oldest brother pissed me off today. Maybe its misguided and I just need some one to be mad at, but he sure made it easy.
He had an affair this year. He still lacks a spirit of humility. He came into the family group texts with some bullshit wisdom...
Daddy died. Slowly and painfully. It was awful. And we are allowed to be sad. We are allowed to grieve. There doesn't have to be a band aide over this.
Grief is uncomfortable. We can sit in that feeling without needing to fix it. I hate when people try to gloss over grief and don't allow room for the hard feelings.
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How Fun,
To be back. To read and re-read and see myself new, here, again.
Tumblr feels like an old friend waiting to embrace me and I really enjoy that. I don't need to come here often, but when I do, I remember.
The person I was six months ago is not the person I am today, even now, I am someone new.
How fun to meet myself, past and present, again.
I like myself so much more these days, I have more patience and am more self aware, I know, now, how to take a time out, how to make my breathing even, how to slow down.
I no longer feel bad for saying no.
I can breathe in and out and I don't feel so tense all the time.
I feel like you are meeting someone new, again. Will you like me as much now as you did then?
I hope so. We are deserve to feel loved where we are now.
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I Doubt That: Grief
I am told that
You would be proud of me.
But the doubt has crept its way into my soul, and I do, indeed, doubt this.
I remember the lessons you taught me, to be on time is to be late, to be early is to be on time, don't take it personally, ask for help, be in the Word.
And I was not prepared for these to be things I remembered, instead of things I heard you say.
How can you be proud of me, right now? The person I am, right now? Would you eve know me?
I am crushed thinking about it.
How can I believe you would think it when I can't think it about myself?
Besides, it never felt quite as good as when you said it Daddy.
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Old Abandoned Houses, Grief
I only find you in my mind, its the last place you are. I hold tightly, afraid that one slip, one misremembrance and you'll be gone.
I have already forgotten what it felt like to be in the car with you while you drove, the smell of your coffee or the way you clicked your tongue.
Not everyone loves their father, but I loved mine.
I see old abandoned houses and I want to start the website you talked about for so long, but I am afraid to give that memory to the world. It belongs to only me and I hold is close.
As if holding the grief of you will keep you longer in my mind. Each day you slip a little more, a little more...
My kids don't know your name. And I feel ashamed that I have held you so tightly that I didn't share you with them...
But I'm not sure I can just now. Not when remembering you feels like wading through the mud.
Not when it hurts quite this badly. So for now I keep you in my mind, and get sad whenever I pass old abandoned house.
#poetry#poem#writing#grief#loss#fathers#fathers and daughters#death#fuck cancer#old houses#I miss my Dad
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Motherhood: Not Quite There Yet
Hello I say to my body. I don't recognize it, too much has changed.
Do you understand?
I am standing in front of the mirror for a brief moment before I shower, mapping out my body. I trace the lines with my eyes, follow the curves and lumps, the scars, the marks.
Who even is this person in front of me?
I want to love her. I do. I want to be thankful for the years, the babies, the grief, the running, the aches and pains, the day in and day out that has walked me into the next day in and day out.
But I turn away from her.
Maybe one day I will be able to love her, without hesitation. I'm not quite there yet.
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Some travel journal spreads from The Hike Guy on flickr (downloaded them from pinterest)
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Green and Gold (a poem)
Green and Gold
Before spring can break its flowers like colored shards of china across the garden there is one last test to pass one final frost then all can turn green with no fear of a pinch or whisper of cold life can resume from winter’s pause and turn green and gold.
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Motherhood: Trying
My Therapist says,
You're doing much better than you realize.
The thoughts in the back of my mind beg to differ. How could this be true? When my toes curl and my shoulders ache? When I am still biting my lip to make myself stop saying something, I know. will hurt my children?
The Little Girl in my heart, the one I ignored, she's sobbing, constantly. For so long she was ignored, rejected, even snuffed down.
The grown up version of that girl doesn't know how to respond when her children do the very thing that she was punished for.
Stop fidgeting. Be still. You're too loud. What is wrong with you? You know better. Stop crying! Get your hands out of your mouth!
I see my children do these things, all normal children things, and I have to breathe deeply and remind myself
its ok.
Do I want this to go away? Am I mad that this is my story? Do I wish "better" translated to "never happens"? Because I don't think it will just never happen...
A part of me will always be...that quote from that movie, "Messy and Sloppy and I like that about myself"
I want to like that about myself. I want to love that Little Girl again. I want to mother well, myself, and my children. I want to accept that Better is good enough and Better means at least I was trying...
Afterall isn't that what we're all doing?
Trying?
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An Empty Pasture (a poem)
An Empty Pasture
Tonight the rain is singing about how you’ve aged in a lonely meandering way as if driving through the country you stopped got out and left your car behind and walked until you came to an empty pasture that baked all day in the naked sun waiting for you to arrive a pasture where the horses of your desires have all moved on somewhere else and you you’re too tired and beaten now to want to try and catch up.
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Marriage: We Need Help
We are here again, my love, in a place we don't want to be.
I feel miles away from you, stuck, yelling what I need, watching your mouth move, but I can't hear you.
I can't hear you. You can't hear me.
We are throwing life lines to one another and falling short, every damn time.
I refuse to believe this is all there is for us.
I refuse to believe that we can't figure this out.
So I have reached out, made the calls, sent the email, asked.
Help us, we are drowning together.
I feel no shame in admitting we are not ok, or in admitting we need help,
how many of us do?
We have spent ten years facing
Heart surgeries Moves Death Cancer Anxiety Financial Stress
Now is our time, my love, to check in for one another, to seek help, to reevaluate. To move deeper, collide, to hear one another more clearly. To love one another better.
We navigate together my love, we're in the same boat, I am on your team.
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Fragmento de
The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse
De Charlie Mackesy
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