Saying Goodbye to Privacy Pt.3

So where were we? Pain medicine..right? I had read my "rights" and at 4 I could have pain medicine. Now I never set out to be one of those women who was going to be strong and not take anything. I wasn't going "natural". I'm not gonna apologize for this. I believe pain meds were a good thing and I was ready,willing and able to partake of them! So I finally get my own room. Get settled. Bags out of the car. Epidural. Now let's talk about the epidural. For those of you who don't know, this is injected dangerously close to your spine but it suppose to be a fairly safe procedure. There are two ways you can position yourself (usually at the doctors preference or depending on where you are in your labor). I was positioned sitting with my back hunched over. Now this is a very large women, in alot of pain that you are asking to sit ( a feat in itself), arch herself around her large stomach on the edge of a bed. So, a nurse is there to steady me. This is where I get a slight inkling into the idea of how immodest I'm going to be. I mean, I've been running around a hospital clothed in paper. Almost every bodily function you can have I have had in front of someone up to this point. But I have managed to have as much dignity and reserve about me as possible. Well, when it's time to arch over for the epidural I grab this poor nurse in a bear hug. I have no problems pressing my large pain-racked body onto this poor woman and using her for every bit of support she's capable of giving. She's very good natured about it and it endears her to me for the rest of my stay. She was my fav nurse. Plus the fact that she didn't put up with my crap. That's later in the story but you got to respect someone who tells off a 9 month pregnant woman who is in labor and ready to rip ANYONE'S head off.

So back to the epidural, I receive it with very little pain. Really I'm not sure it was little pain it's just that I was in so much pain already, what's the difference right? By this time it's probably 8 or so, I'm finally situated in a bed with pain meds. Well, they aren't working. It hurts. The pain hasn't got short or less. It's only gotten harder and quicker. But I'm enduring. My mom hardly moves from my side. She stands at the edge of the bed--not touching since this annoyed her while she was in labor also. She just stands there feeling my pain, trying to help me with my burden...trying to share this so she can lessen my pain if she could. She watches my face, the monitor...if anyone could say they were feeling what I was feeling..I would say it was her. I had a rag that I had used to wipe my face (after another throwing up episode--oh yes, I'm still throwing up) and now I'm using this rag. At first, I'm just using my hand to twist the rag. One hand just twisting and twisting and twisting. I wish I had a pic of it. This poor rag. The pain gets so bad that I start biting the rag to hold back the screams. My mother (always thinking about sanitation) asked if I would like another rag to bit on. I regret to say that I was snippy. No, I would not like another rag. I like this one very much. The nurse comes in to "check" me. If you don't know what this entails I can tell you in one sentence. Someone (a nurse or doc preferably) practically sticks their ENTIRE arm up your vagina to find out how far you are dilated and thinned out! I snap at the woman--THAT HURTS! And she says --IT'S SUPPOSE TOO! Well, how dare her talk back to the woman in labor--the woman of the hour! She took me so much by surprise that I decided I better not sass her anymore. Why aren't the pain meds working? We ask the nurse. We ask the doc. Oh, not my doc by the way because he's not on call. It's Sunday and some man I have never met or seen will deliver my baby. How's that for topping? They tell me that I am just accelerating too quickly for the pain meds to work. What? They are pumping this directly into my spine almost and it's not quick enough? My in-laws show up. They are in such a jolly mood. I would like to get out of bed and strangle them. They are talking, chatting in the corner..oh about the weather and whatever else that might pop into their stupid heads about now. I AM concentrating on the wallpaper. I'm trying to find a spot and concentrate on it. I'm using every method that I read about that worked IF YOU DID NOT get pain meds. They give me a shot of pain killer in my IV but it's not cutting it. Would I like to try another epidural? NO, I've already endured this much just leave me alone! My water hasn't broken yet and I am at a 7. So the doc comes in to break my water (this is the first and only time I will meet this doc before he delivers my child). He talks about how it will hurt more after my water has broken and tells me that I should reconsider the epidural. Ok, now I'm scared. Ok, another epidural. The lady doc comes in to give my epidural. Thank God, she clears the room. No one allowed. THANK YOU! I was about to get up and throw everyone out myself. These people walking around IN NO PAIN don't belong in the same room with me. Their petty worries and chatter...oh, I wanted to scream. Oh wait, I was screaming. Stifled screams (remember the rag) but screams none the less. This time I roll over on my side and arch my back (the other position to receive an epidural in). She stays with me (everyone else is still kicked out) and talks about how I should breathe until the pain goes away. She tells me the pains will get shorter and then less and then fade to nothing almost. IT STARTS HAPPENING! What she says starts happening! It's working! This pain starts to come and I can tell it's going to be the worse one yet. But it just stops short. It's like this big wave that piddles out to nothing. I tell her this and she says it's working. The nurse comes in. She looks at the monitor. The baby's heartbeat has dropped. She says --when did this happen? How long ago? The lady doc says just this minute and explained the pain I had just had. The nurse "checks" me again. I'm ready! I'm dilated. I'm fully thinned. It's fixing to be time to push. Things happen quickly. Things are inserted, strapped to my leg..it's all a blur. The bed position is changed. Things happen in a blink of an eye. Blink. There's my mom and my husband. My in-laws are not allowed back in because my legs are fixing to go in the air. Blink. The foot props go up in the air. Blink. The catheter is removed. (I wasn't really even aware of when this went in because I was in so much pain and they didn't ask me--or I don't think they did..) So much is happening so quickly that I don't have time to think....

I'm fixing to meet my baby. Soon. I had read that when it was over you forgot the pain just like that. Just like it never happened. It's time. It's time. Now.

(I hope you understand that in reading what is happening. That it is all fuzzy to me. I'm centered. I had no concept of time. Time had no meaning. One minute. One hour. I was somewhere else. I was disassociating. I wasn't me. I was breathing. I was enduring. I was doing what women had been doing since the dawn of time. It was something that had to happen so I could be a mother. So I could meet this life inside me...it was just something that had to be done and I was the only one that could do it. Everyone else was just a distraction. This was between me and my baby.)

Saying Goodbye to Privacy Pt.2

Soooo..back to where I was...in labor on the road to the hospital. Losing the parts of me that are suppose to be rational and logical. Foy (because I'm going to blame it on him even though I may have told him to do it..) turns the flashers on for some reason. He kindly gives me his hand to squeeze and I swat it away. I'm not in the mood for niceness and I do NOT want anyone to touch me right now. So we get to the hospital, where we have pre-registered and I'm not sure why we bothered because there still seem to be a ton of forms to fill out which I'm in no shape for. After all that, I am finally asked if I would like to sit in a wheelchair and be wheeled to the area of the hospital I will give birth. NO thanks! So I get to a small room where they tell me THEY will decide whether I'm in labor or not. They put a strap on my stomach that measure how far apart my contractions are and then they check to see how far I'm dilated -- ONLY 1 cm. What the hell?!? It's gonna get worse. I've been through all this and I've only gotten a fuckin' centimeter out of it. Are you kidding me?!? In the midst of all this checking I start to throw-up. You should know this wasn't anything new to me. I threw up my whole pregnancy I don't know why I expected it to be any different NOW. Except I wasn't prepared and I threw up on myself. So lets summarize where we are right now. I've endured around 4 hours of the most extreme pain in my life to only be dilated to 1 and I'm covered in puke. Gettin' a mental picture here? Well, we all must endure. So continue on with me....I'm then told that in order to decide if I'm really REALLY in labor I must go walk around for 1 hour and after that hour if I have not dilated anymore then I will be sent home. Well, right now I'm cussin' this woman out in my head and thinkin' they are going to have to drag me to my car or give me HEAVY drugs to make me leave this hospital with as much pain as I am in...but what comes out of my mouth is "ok, I'll walk." So I'm already in my hospital gown and those of you not familiar with this lovely invention. It's open in the back and doesn't really EVER close so then I get a lovely paper robe to cover my behind with ...so ...off we go covered in paper (covered in a large amount of paper--remember this a 9 month pregnant woman) to troll the hospital for an hour! I have to stop about every 5 minutes to either puke or pee. When I pee, I feel this SERIOUS need to go and then two drops come out but it's just enough that I have to keep going to the potty every 5 minutes. Somehow I wonder to the floor that the sick people are in and the smell is so bad that I almost throw up in the hall (I'm especially sensitive to smell right now). I have to get out of here immediately is all I can think. The nearest exit was the stairwell so here I go. I decide going down the stairwell might be our best option because I can't stand to CLIMB the stairs (remember I am in labor...in case you've forgotten --I certainly haven't!). But you'll never guess, the stairwell door was locked on the next floor...so down again we go to the next one...LOCKED as well and that's our last option so I must walk UP two flights of stairs while in labor to exit back onto the floor that was making me sick so I can find an elevator. After that adventure, we decided that I should go outside. I needed the fresh air. Well, so much for fresh air. My mom and husband linger about 20 feet behind me smoking-- chattin' about the day, the weather, ..whatever else might be on their mind right now. WHAT THE FUCK?!? I'M IN LABOR HERE! NOTHING ELSE SHOULD BE ON ANYONE ELSES MIND CUZ THAT'S WHAT'S ON MY MIND!! Oh, I'm so mad. But I'm in so much pain that even my anger takes the back seat and I can't tell anyone how this is making me feel. I'm centered on me and what's going on here. We pass some hospital personnel (MEN) who see fit to make a joke about the pregnant women who are always walking around the hospital while in labor. They call them the "Wal-Mart babies" because the women go to Wal-Mart to walk around after they are told to leave the hospital. Well, now you couldn't drag me to Wal-Mart because my child will NOT be known as a "wal-mart baby". So an hour is up! We head back and I go back down on the table...Guess what!?? I am now at a 4. That NEVER happens. People don't go from 1-4 in 1 hour. I'll tell you what pushed it. I DID. ME. I was on a mission. I climbed stairs and I walked like I was conquering the new world. I mean, it was a new world...a new me..a strong me...a me that had a job and was gonna get this done and do it the right way..........AND here's where I remind them that NOW I can have pain meds!

This seems to be a good stopping point for this post. But right now, in my labor I was alot excited that this WAS going to happen today and a little scared that this WAS going to happen today. But overall, I never felt more in charge. I never felt like more of a woman or more in sync with what nature and God intended for me and my body. This was my job. I was made for this. Even if I thought it hurt..my body knew what it was doing. It was in my DNA. It was destiny.

Saying Goodbye to Privacy

Disclaimer: If you are weak stomached, haven't had children yet, are pregnant with your first child or have a penis you might want to reconsider reading this post. Continue at your own risk...

When you have children your privacy goes right out the window. It begins with pregnancy.

When I was pregnant with my first child, while all my sensibilities were still in tack along with my sanity, I had heard stories of such immodesty in the birthing room that I swore would never be me. Somehow I imagined I was going to keep my legs together and manage to birth a child at the same time. I wasn't actually sure of all the logistics but I was very sure that I was going to be as modest as possible considering the circumstances. I shouldn't have even considered it after already having to go through the indignities of pregnancy. I mean, peeing yourself (and calling the doc to tell them about it because it MIGHT have been your water breaking) should have been the only prelude I needed to the beginning of losing all contact with my privacy. Along with forceful, frequent vomiting that could occur in the most unlikely places like restaurant parking lots or the floor of Wal-Mart. People first want to push the privacy button by touching your stomach. I did not have alot of problems with this since I think I'm a pretty imposing person who's face doesn't invite you to touch her stomach. BUT no, I still had high hopes of retaining my sanity and modesty while giving birth....then I went into labor.

It was about 4 am and I had decided that maybe I could just use some duct tape and invent some method of strapping myself to the toilet so that I could sleep comfortably and urinate at the same time. I was wondering why someone hadn't already invented something wonderful like that because I would have been the first person in line to buy it. Everyone hears the old stories of pregnant women and the need to urinate but the fact that before this I was a fairly rational, sane person who would never have considered strapping myself to a toilet should give you some inclination of how much the need to urinate can consume your life, especially at the end. Well, here's what it starts getting graphic so ye, of weak stomach, turn back. I went to wipe and the toilet paper was bloody. Mmmm, new development. I'm pretty much not sleeping anyways so I might as well stay up and see what happens, is what I thought. So in the midst of a not nearly enough distracting game of mine sweep, the contractions start for serious. I don't feel the need to wake my husband. After all, I'm still a sensible, rational woman and I've read LOTS of books about labor. I mean after all, you want to be prepared for something like this. I had read that when you go into labor it will be a very VERY long time until you actually give birth so try to relax...don't run right to the hospital because you have plenty of time. I like to think of myself as a warrior who was preparing for battle....I was a woman preparing myself mentally for what might be the most trying and difficult day of my life, and I was never going to be the same again. My body, my spirit, my mind had been preparing for this moment almost a year. I was going to experience childbirth and the biggest change of all, at the end of this day, I was going to be a MOTHER. I was going to meet my baby. After about an hour of contractions I'm beginning to lose the part of myself that is rational. I'm still sensible though. So I call the hospital to inform them of the events that are transpiring at this moment and am told to wait at least another hour to make sure that's it's really labor and then to come to the hospital. How ,what I am experiencing, could be anything LESS than labor was a little scary. I mean, these people had to have no idea how much this hurt. I know, they've probably delivered 1000's of babies but at this moment in time, I think they can't possibly know how much pain I am in. At this point, since the rational part has flew out the window and I assume my sensibility will be the next thing to go, I wake my husband, who rolls over and complains that it can't be morning yet, why are we getting up. Well, I think I'm having a baby. Oh, now he's up. Wait, he needs to take a shower. I mean, I'll be the one giving birth to a baby through a very small canal with my legs in the air and seemingly every person within a 20 mile radius either sticking their hand or their head where it doesn't belong... BUT by all means, get good and clean, honey. After his shower, I think sensibility might be escaping as well and I decide it will take almost an hour to get to the hospital so we better start now cuz this HURTS. Away we go.

I think this story may take longer than one post so this seems an appropriate stopping point for now. Of course, at that moment in time I was thinking it would be a good stopping point as well. I mean, couldn't I just stay pregnant a little longer...I mean a year or two..until I read some MORE books..I mean aren't those suppose to prepare you for this...I had really wanted to have this baby but maybe pregnancy wasn't so bad..sorry I complained..could we just stop this nonsense and I could go back to BEFORE...I don't think I'm ready..I thought I was ready but I didn't know...Sorry, I didn't know...

My apologies!

Sometimes when I write blogs I think,"My, how witty am I?" but then I read someone else's blog and think," I write about stupid shit." I should write things that make the world a better place and uplift people and have purpose instead of dawdling on about ..stupid shit...so I apologize for my lack of goodness. My inability to help you see the better picture and make you and me a better person. I'm sorry. I'm just me and I'm a little idiotic and I have no redeeming qualities to speak of except I am a faithful wife and a loving mother. And those aren't even that unique.....

The ID

I thought I'd explain more about the Id since I find it so very fascinating...

Wikipedia again.

"The Id comprises the unorganized part of the personality structure that contains the basic drives. The Id is unconscious by definition. In Freud's formulation,

“It is the dark, inaccessible part of our personality, what little we know of it we have learnt from our study of the dream-work and of the construction of neurotic symptoms, and most of this is of a negative character and can be described only as a contrast to the ego. We approach the id with analogies: we call it a chaos, a cauldron full of seething excitations ... It is filled with energy reaching it from the instincts, but it has no organization, produces no collective will, but only a striving to bring about the satisfaction of the instinctual needs subject to the observance of the pleasure principle. "
[Freud, New Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis (1933)]

The id stands in direct opposition to the super-ego.

Developmentally, the Id is anterior to the ego; i.e. the psychic apparatus begins, at birth, as an undifferentiated id, part of which then develops into a structured ego. Thus, the id
"contains everything that is inherited, that is present at birth, that is laid down in the constitution -- above all, therefore, the instincts, which originate from the somatic organisation and which find a first psychical expression here (in the id) in forms unknown to us" [2].

The mind of a newborn child is regarded as completely "id-ridden", in the sense that it is a mass of instinctive drives and impulses, and demands immediate satisfaction. This view equates a newborn child with an id-ridden individual—often humorously—with this analogy: an alimentary tract with no sense of responsibility at either end.

The id is responsible for our basic drives such as food, sex, and aggressive impulses. It is amoral and egocentric, ruled by the pleasure–pain principle; it is without a sense of time, completely illogical, primarily sexual, infantile in its emotional development, and will not take "no" for an answer. It is regarded as the reservoir of the libido or "love energy".

Freud divided the id's drives and instincts into two categories: life and death instincts - the latter not so usually regarded because Freud thought of it later in his lifetime. Life instincts are those that are crucial to pleasurable survival, such as eating and copulation. Death instincts, as stated by Freud, are our unconscious wish to die, as death puts an end to the everyday struggles for happiness and survival. Freud noticed the death instinct in our desire for peace and attempts to escape reality through fiction, media, and substances such as alcohol and drugs. It also indirectly represents itself through aggression."

Now you can't tell me that that is not fantastically fascinating!

No Use Lying, It's Just Me...

Do you ever get tired of lying to yourself? Is it lying or just self-confidence? If I don't look too close in the mirror I think I'm beautiful. Is that just being egotistical or is it mandatory for good mental health? Do you ever see those people wearing all the wrong clothes or showing too much skin when they might need to be covered up and you think...don't they have a mirror? Well maybe it was just some misguided self-confidence that lead them to bad choices. I mean if you went around thinking you were crappy all the time that wouldn't be good for your mental health, would it? So, I guess some lying to yourself is ok as long as your mental health is the primary concern of course and it's not injuring anyone elses mental health.

I would like to give you another excerpt from Wikipedia (as you can tell, I love Wikipedia) about id, ego and super-ego. I think it will help you dive into my mind. It's a wild ride...


The Id comprises the unorganized part of the personality structure that contains the basic drives. The Id is unconscious by definition. In Freud's formulation,
“ It is the dark, inaccessible part of our personality, what little we know of it we have learnt from our study of the dream-work and of the construction of neurotic symptoms, and most of this is of a negative character and can be described only as a contrast to the ego. We approach the id with analogies: we call it a chaos, a cauldron full of seething excitations ... It is filled with energy reaching it from the instincts, but it has no organization, produces no collective will, but only a striving to bring about the satisfaction of the instinctual needs subject to the observance of the pleasure principle. "

[Freud, New Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis (1933)


Here is a little on ego...

The Ego comprises that organized part of the personality structure which includes defensive, perceptual, intellectual-cognitive, and executive functions. Conscious awareness resides in the ego, although not all of the operations of the ego are conscious.
According to Freud,
“
...The ego is that part of the id which has been modified by the direct influence of the external world ... The ego represents what may be called reason and common sense, in contrast to the id, which contains the passions ... in its relation to the id it is like a man on horseback, who has to hold in check the superior strength of the horse; with this difference, that the rider tries to do so with his own strength, while the ego uses borrowed forces "

[Freud, The Ego and the Id (1923)]

And finally a little on the super-ego...

"The Super-ego comprises that organised part of the personality structure, mainly but not entirely unconscious, that includes the individual's ego ideals, spiritual goals, and the psychic agency (commonly called 'conscience') that criticizes and prohibits his or her drives, fantasies, feelings, and actions."

So in layman terms. You at your most basic is the id and from there we build to ego and then finally the very worst prohibitioner ..the super-ego. Apparently my super-ego gets a little misplaced at times and that's how I come to be here writing to you on my blog. Not to mention my ugly id surfaces at the most inopportune times....

Now back to what I was saying, I need to quit lying to myself about something and while I'm reigning myself in I'll let you into the know. I've been doing some searching on the Internet for a guy I use to sleep with in college. At first I was telling myself and others that I just wanted to catch up and see what was happening with him...well, it's time to stop lying. I really have a question to ask him and since he isn't around, I'll ask you. Why, after two years of sleeping with me, did you take the easy rode out and ask me that if you ask me would I be your girlfriend and then disappear only to reappear months later to inform me that you were leaving town for the military possibly and then disappear again?....I guess what I really want to know here, is did you ever have feelings for me?

Now, I'll tell you what I want the answer to be..since it's just between you and me, reader. I want him to have been desperately in love with me and so in awe of me that he believed I would never settle for him and going away was the biggest mistake of his life and ALSO ...I'd like him to say that I was the best he ever had in bed and he hasn't been that satisfied or had that wild of a time in years.

And then my reply...would you like to hear that? It would be to say simply...too bad. hahahahaha (wild maniac laughter). You know why I want him to answer that way? Because I need it. I need the confidence it would give me. I need the satisfaction it would give me. I need the pleasure it would give me for him to say these things.

I know I would derive pleasure from it because I've already experienced this kind of pleasure and it was very satisfying...well, for a while anyways. I had an old conquest tell me how great I was, how much he hurt when I left him, how he always held that special place for me that said I was special, how the very act of ignoring him led him to make life altering decisions...I mean, that's head rush stuff. It was a great feeling.

Whatever Scott's answer may be....I just need to know it. I'm still married, I still love my husband but some basic part of me needs an explanation and craves an answer. Maybe it's how I made life-altering decisions and so did he and what would have been, what could have been and what was and what is.

Homeopathy

Homeopathy is a vitalist philosophy in that it regards diseases and sickness to be caused by disturbances in a hypothetical vital force or life force in humans and that these disturbances manifest themselves as unique symptoms. Homeopathy maintains that the vital force has the ability to react and adapt to internal and external causes, which homeopaths refer to as the "law of susceptibility". The law of susceptibility states that a negative state of mind can attract hypothetical disease entities called "miasms" to invade the body and produce symptoms of diseases.[1] However, Hahnemann rejected the notion of a disease as a separate thing or invading entity[66] and insisted that it was always part of the "living whole".[67]

This is an excerpt from Wikipedia on the definition of homeopathic. I thought I would add it as a half-ass explanation of my last blog...if it's possible for it to be explained.....



Also on a completely un-related note. I learned a new word this week (well, I learned several but this one is my favorite) so check it out. Callipygian.

Music, Earth, and the beat of LIFE!

So I don't know if your a music lover or not (since I'm really not sure if anyone is REALLY reading my blog or not)....but I am a music lover. I'm not sure that says it adequately. I really LOVE music. I lose myself in it. I'm not sure ..actually I'm quite sure this is because I probably have such a precarious hold on my sanity. More so than the average person. And you thought I was kidding about the commitment papers. Sometimes I feel like I'm riding this real thin line between what I want ppl to see and what I really am. I'm closer to going over to the dark side than most ppl are because I'm riding that line pretty close.

For example ( I love giving examples in my blog for some reason), we went to a Puddle of Mudd concert the other night. Now, I am not a fan of theirs. Not that I don't like them but I've never really heard any of their music or paid attention to what songs they sing. My husband wanted to go. Not that he's a fan either. (I promise this story has an ending and a point.) So we met a couple of other couples there. Now even though I had not been a fan before I went, I did recognize a couple of their songs and I was enjoying myself....because I LOVE music, almost any kind of music. Especially live. If you've never been to a concert, your missing out. The beat from the speakers that moves your whole body, that denies you the ability to even THINK of anything else, that vibrates your very soul , the interaction with the crowd, the feeling of one body, one mind, one music, one soul for one moment . A connection with humanity, a connection that bridges all boundaries and says we may be different but this moment in time we are one.
The mob mentality if you let yourself think about it but don't think ....just let every other part of you but your mind ..just take control. I did. I wanted to. The other couples were standing by, being normal. Joking, talking and I have this pull. This part of me that says let go, throw your hands in the air, shake your head around, jump to the beat, move your body. It's almost an irresistible pull like the call of the wild. It says forget who you are and be the music, be someone different, be whoever you want to be, BE YOURSELF, be MORE yourself than you'll ever be standing here resisting the urge to let loose and lose control.

You know this love for music goes way back. Back in time. Since the dawn of time, music has played a role in civilization, communication, love, life....it still does. Different music makes us feel different ways. We chose our ring tones, put it on our web pages, listen to it in our cars...it's suppose to influence us to eat certain foods in restaurants or buy certain clothes in the store. Churches use it to creat moods and to induce feelings. Movies use music to help paint a picture or clue you into the mood. Music effects so much of our lives on a daily, hourly basis and I don't think we realize it. People have been using it to manipulate emotions since the first person probably beat out a tune on the ground or the trunk of a tree or a rock.

Classical music snobs like to look down their noses at music they think is below them or different. Some people make fun of country or some people think metal is just noise. Well, I know I can't account for people's personal taste because everyone has a right to it but I bet if we all open our minds we can find a place, an emotion or a time to fit ALL music. Even the music that you think isn't music.

Some of the most basic music I can think of is drums. I don't mean basic as in uncomplicated or I'm being snobby. I mean basic like the beat of your body. The movement of your feet. The swaying of your soul. To me drums are like a life beat. Like someone could find the beat you live your life to and put it on paper and play it. All music is like that. The guitar can sob for you or rock for you.

I'm not sure what makes a person a good dancer and what makes someone else suck at it. I'm pretty sure it's something your born with, like singing. You can't really be taught. You've either got some base talent or you don't. To me, dancing is just that moment when you let go of all your thoughts and your body and let the music take over. Maybe people who can't let go of their thoughts or let their body go free..their worried about being embarrassed or looking stupid, are the people who don't have the natural, innate ability to dance. Maybe it's just a matter of confidence.

Now I know I'm getting farther out there (your calling the people in the white coats right now, aren't you?) but I think part of it may be that I'm an earth sign. I know, your thinking I'm crazy...but sometimes I feel like I might be a little more in touch with my roots than most people and I don't mean my hair (cuz I haven't seen my original hair color in a long time) or even so much my family ..I mean the roots like the root of me. The part of me that some people would call the soul or the mind. The part that KNOWS *lifted eyebrows* things. The intuitive part. The part of me that I would never argue with because it's like trying to explain the impossible. The part of me that reads people and allows me to be myself. That instinctively knows about our connection to the earth and the environment. That part that thinks science should listen more to what people SAY instead of their little machines. The part that says homeopathic medicine COULD do the trick. The part that says mind over matter can move mountains like cancer maybe. The part of me that is a mother and a woman because I think that strengthens your ability to believe in psychic connections when you have children. I feel connected to my children in a way that is hard for me to explain unless you have children. And because I'm a woman I think that I'm more emotional open to things than a man would be.

I think what I'm trying to say with some of this random rambling is that because I live closer to the line, feel the undercurrent in the room, move to the music and can allow myself to not care what other people think is why some people love me and some people just think I'm crazy. I not only give me permission to be me but I give you permission to just be YOU.

Inside my Tiny Brain

Science is on the wrong path.

I mean, do you know what I should be doing right now? Washing clothes. Do you know what I'll be doing next week? Washing clothes. Do you know what I'll be doing the week after that and the week after that...guess? Right! SSOOOOO...I've got a great idea for an invention. I just need someone to get on it right away. Ok? I need someone to invent ONE suit of clothes per person that does not wear out, is one size fits all so my 2 year old and myself can wear the same size ( I know that's a big order), and is universal. I also need a little machine that is portable and tiny that can easily be installed in every bedroom around the world and that my 2 year old can operate that cleans this one suit of clothes every night SO that I may never have to wash the same clothes and do the same things over and over again. Just think what I could do with my extra time....I mean inside this tiny brain of mine could be the cure for cancer, or a great invention that instantly (and cheaply) completely gets rid of our need for oil, or I could have the solution for global warming or heck, if I had the time I could invent this crap myself but instead what am I doing? You guessed. Washing clothes. So one of the greatest minds of our time (probably a SAHM or housewife) is probably at this moment washing something. Clothes, dishes, cars, ......

Open Ended Questions

Do you know what an open-ended question is? Well, I'll be happy to tell you either way. It's a question that has to have an answer other than yes or no. For example, "Can I have marshmallows or cookies for a snack?" This is what my 4 year old daughter asked me today. My, where do you think she learned this wonderful skill? I mean, she didn't ask if she could have a snack when she got home. (Because the answer would have been no. Snack time is 2pm not 8pm.) She learned it from ME. I have found this to be a handy tool with my children. To avoid arguments and upset, I ask an open ended question so I can get the results I want. It leaves out all unwanteds and leaves them with some room for control, which for now, they are happy with. For example I might say, "Do you want to wear the purple bow or the pink one?" That leaves out the possibility (which there is a high probability for) of my 2-year-old screaming to wear the neon green bow that doesn't match at all. I use it for lots of other things as well that are much more important like lunch or what we will wear today. (The 2-year-old will quite possibly pick out sweats and toboggan to wear on the hottest day of the year, otherwise.) Well, it's backfired on me. Now what shall I do?!?

More than my fair share of CRAZY!

I heard a line in a movie recently that went something like this. "A thief always thinks someone is stealing." I'm guessing the point was that whatever you think of others is probably what your doing yourself which gave me cause to worry because I tend to think the worst of people. I mean seriously, the worst. I think almost everyone is a lying, stealing, gossiping fiend. Well, I may be exaggerating a little but seriously, I have a really hard time trusting anyone. I'd like to think that it's because I'm surrounded by "crazies". Seriously this town has more than it's fair share but I really think it may be me ..just a little. I mean is it because I am these things....I use to be these things....I don't think so. I mean, I was never a thief. Ok, ok, I'll admit it. The occasional makeup theft at Wal-Mart in my early teens....oh wait, and diet pills once..but just kid stuff. I mean, I never stole from a PERSON...just Wal-Mart or the grocery store. Do you think I'm a bad person? Because I was thinking I wasn't and now I'm wondering if I'm just being too kind to myself. Doesn't everyone do this kinda stuff as a kid? Maybe not. Well, I know I was a liar sometimes. But only when it mattered. Lol. I know that sounds funny but I hate ppl who lie for no reason..all the time. I mean I hate liars period but seriously if you gonna lie let it be to save your life or your marriage or lie to your kids to save their life(as long as they can't find out you lied) BUT don't just lie to impress people or because you like to live in a constant state of drama and lie about what's happening in your life. And I hate lying to save face. I mean really, if you did it then make sure it's worth confessing about. If they (whomever you are confessing to) don't like your confession, well then they don't like you. Your either confessing because your sorry or maybe just because it's good for the soul but hey, at least your telling the truth and THAT should be worth something, right? Now on to gossip. Well, I'm as liable as the next girl but I figure it's just sharing news up to a point, right? I mean there is a fine line there and if I ever do anything worth gossiping about, well, by all means, gossip away.

Now on to my second theory. There is another reason I could think these awful things about everyone I meet....the news. I mean seriously, have you read the news lately? (I say, seriously too much...hmmm) It's full of random murder, theft, lying and just plain maliciousness. These average people appear to have just lost their fucking minds. Or maybe they were only pretending to be average, which brings me back to where I was. Anyone could be one of those crazies on the news, right? So when I think the worst of someone, maybe I'm just protecting myself and my children. I only think the worst until you prove otherwise.....but in my book, your guilty until proven innocent. Sorry. <---Not really.