Incoherently Yours

There have been a lot of babies born lately. I have quite a few friends who are pregnant, expecting, or have itty bitty babies. There’s a lot of baby talk going on and my mind is often ruminating on all the choices given to moms. It makes me think about my choices and why I made them. In navigating the hormone fraught waters of mommyhood sometimes I wonder if I’m saying too much or sharing too little. I think back over conversations and wonder if my comments and suggestions were helpful or overwhelming. So I decided to write down all of the “advice” I would give to moms. If I had the chance to just sit down and blather about my own decisions and challenges I’ve had with Kadon without fear of offending anyone, because hey! You don’t have to read this. J And you can take what you read with a grain of salt and either agree or disagree – it matters not!                   I’ve discovered I am passionat...

               It’s amazing how insecurities can be paralyzing. I’m twenty-five years old and I’m just starting to become comfortable owning myself as a writer. I still blush when people praise my blog and sometimes I still have to make an effort to not deflect the compliment.                 I am a writer. I write. I love to write. I can’t ever really remember not writing. I am in the middle of writing a Christian romance novel. It’s taking a long, long, long time. Sure, life gets in the way, but I think the biggest issue is there are times I convince myself it is all drivel and I just stop writing.         "This is stupid. This is lame. No one is going to want to read this. Hasn’t this story already been done?"             Oh the inner dialo...

Kadon probably thinks that... ·          Singing about everything – cottage cheese, bananas, naps, toys, poopy diapers, you name it – is normal. He will probably think he lives in a musical. ·          Being covered in thousand of smooches is normal. ·          Being carried around upside down is normal. ·          His mother talking out loud, dictating scenes in the book she is working on to the air is normal. ·          His mother carrying on a “discussion” with his father… long after the father has left the house… is normal. ·          Moths are poisonous, murderous, evil beasts. ·          There are gypsies who will buy him for a dollar when he is being naughty ·   ...

My mind won’t go to sleep. Time to jot a thought or two. I’m 25. I think I’m good with it. Sheldon threw me an amazing surprise dinner party at my favorite restaurant, Piccolo Italia, in Barrhead. He reserved the whole place (it’s the cutest place, only 28 people fit) and we had a feast of bread dipped in balsamic vinegar and olive oil, bruschetta, salad, risotto, quail, gelato, and tiramisu! My sister came to visit Kadon and I (and a few other people, I guess… maybe…) for the weekend. I am so happy I got to share my surprise with her. I think she should move back here. Snow for 6+ months of the year, mud and mosquitoes for the other couple months – c’mon! It’s great here! Terry, Larissa, and Judah spent the week with us. I am so grateful to have friends who have grown with us. From college kids, to married couples, to couples with kids… we have accepted and embraced each other’s chaos and become closer through it all! We also happened to have Lily this week, so it was fun...

I remember when my doctor prescribed me anti-depressants and told me, “You are just too sad.” I remember thinking he was absolutely crazy. My daughter had died six weeks ago. I told him I didn’t want to be happy. He told me everyone wants to be happy. I love my doctor. He is an amazing man and practitioner. But I did not want to be happy. I did not want to find my way through losing Rory. I wanted the world to end, I wanted everything to stop. The loss of a child is too terrible to endure, too horrible of a reality to accept. I didn’t want to grow stronger, I didn’t want to fight. I wanted the universe explode, agreeing the loss of Rory to be impossible and send us all to the place we could be together with no more tears, no more sadness, and no more loss. But it didn’t. I had to rummage through the hospital’s closet to find an outfit for Rory to be buried in. I had to walk out of the hospital, clutching a ragged old stuffed cow, climb into a vehicle, and go home without my litt...

New Years is such a cliché for new beginnings and starting over and we all seem to think it has some sort of magical quality for filling up our motivation tanks. I was planning on hitching my band wagon on to the New Years Resolution train and riding the wave of “I can do this!” … However, I just sent off my sister, her hubby, and kids this morning, and although I absolutely loved having them with us, we’ve all had awful colds for the last couple days. So, instead of today starting with a work-out and a shake, and vacuuming or putting away laundry, or writing or attacking my office with file folders and a little thing called organization – I have spent the day on the couch, alternately nursing my sleepy/teething?/fighting a cold? Baby and putting him in his swing, watching episode after episode of Glee whilst chugging back Cream soda and eating half a box of cookies. And blowing my nose. A lot. So, my New Years plans will have a late start, because right now I’m too busy chec...

            I’ve been feeling like I’m caught in a whirlwind. I don’t really know where December went. Well. I do. But man, it went fast. December began with all the gallbladder/dying nonsense. I ended up at the hospital in Denver , thought I was getting better, and then ended up in the hospital in Barrhead for six days. A gallbladder attack resulted in a stone getting stuck and me ending up with pancreatitis, which meant I had to go to the Royal Alexander hospital in an ambulance (seriously, I should almost have my name engraved on one at this point.) to get some thing shoved down my throat and remove the stone so that my lipid level (which was over 42,000 – a normal lipid level is under 300. Ha. Wow.) would go down. I don’t really remember much of that day – yay drugs! After a couple of days of morphine and letting my organs recover, my skin and eyes decided yellow was not the most flattering color, and I was feeling much better. I had emergency su...