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Plans go awry

I have the house to myself.  The Princeling is with his father, and my father is off on a road trip. This almost never happens. I don’t think I’ve been alone in the house for this long of an extended period in…. well. Since becoming a mom.

I had plans. 

Grand plans.

Writing and crafting and this ingredients and thating.

Instead, I’ve been binge watching Say Yes to the Dress on Hulu (nope, no plans to ever get married lol). And sleeping. I fell asleep at 7pm last night. I wake up at 4pm, so that’s not as bad as it sounds.

But I haven’t been writing. I’ve been perking and idea, and I’ll have to start it soon. I have an essay or 2 that I want to write, and a market I want to submit Sins of the Mother to. 

Part of it all is just getting back to it. I know I do better, mental health wise, when I’m busier. I’m OK right now, but I’m trying to keep the darkness at bay. I had a Scentsy party and thought to myself I can do that. But I prefer Partylite Candles. The reasons are a whole other post worth, but they are important to me.

Thankfully, I know a Partylite consultant who has a team (hi Christie!). She is the mother of one of the Princeling’s very best friends. So I’m gonna get myself busy with a product I love, meeting new people and also getting over my fear of public speaking. She tried to get me to sign up right after the holidays, but I was in the middle of my rough patch. It would have helped, but I was too far in to see that.

Yes. I am a walking contradiction. The busier I am, the more I write. With the Princeling going with his father more often… I need something to keep myself busy so my brain will wake up. If I can get a product I love, meet new people and get a little travel money to boot?

Yah. We’re going to try this. 

 

Uncle Mark #wemissyou

You were involved in some many firsts, although not *that* one lol. You were the first grown up friend we made, one outside of family, school or church. 

You called us the Katzenjammer Kids.

We called you Uncle Mark.

Which is utterly ridiculous because you were only 5 years older than us.

But you had a house. We were in our early twenties, and that seemed so far away. That’s the only thing I can think of, because you were wholly and unapologetically there for us. 

We met at Danny’s, of all places. In Milpitas, off Calaveras. It was our non bar hangout, and your dinner stop on your commute home from work. I still order the Super Bird, with a side of ranch. Dipping it makes all the difference,

You weren’t one of my college buddies, but we talked about everything. From motorcycles to midevil knights, books and bars. Your interests were so wide ranging, I think you could talk to anyone about everything. 

You found love, and lost love. Always painfully, and sadly, once, tragically. And yet you still believed, still put yourself out there. And found it again, with Lyn. I could tell when I met her that she was going to be good for you. That twinkle was back in your eye. You, Sir Knight, had found a Lady worthy of your wooing and you enjoyed it.

I didn’t make it to your funeral. Damp, winding roads scared me too much. Instead, I did something I know you’ll approve of. I went and spoiled my great nephew, visiting from afar and sicker than a dog. He napped while I dropped the stuff off, but spoiling doesn’t happen because you need approval. It happens because they need to be spoiled. 

Regina and I will miss you terribly, Uncle Markypoo.But we know that when you see you again, you’ll share all the best spots with us and have some amazing stories for us.

Thank you Terrible Minds

Had a great date night with the boy child, and I owe it to Chuck Wendig.
I get notifications in my email on blog posts by the author, Chuck Wendig. I love his blog, it’s funny, real and NSFW. Yesterday, he posted a flash fiction challenge ( which he does most Fridays) and you can find it here

 When we went in to Strings (one of our favorites…. yummy pasta), I brought in a tablet of paper. We sat down, and for the past month or so, the princeling has been playing on his phone while we eat. This is not ok.

The boy child loves many things, and storytelling is one of them. In the flash fiction challenge mentioned above, you have to create your own monster. Not a rehash of a goblin, orc  or nessie. Your own monster. 

Thursday night, the princeling asked me why I never write his story ideas. I don’t have the heart to tell him that mommy’s writing is not built that way. I’m not a Tolkien, Martin or Hobbs that can weave large complex stories with ease. I’m light and fluffy with a sometimes dark turn, and I’m OK with that.

We sat down, and I handed the book to him. “There’s a writing challenge and we’re going to do it together.”

His little eyes lit up. When I told him about the challenge, he looked at me and said in a very soft voice… “Goblins?”  

“No, it can’t be anything ever written about before. Not in movies, in books or video games. Completely new.”

He grinned at me and said “oh, that’s easy”. 

As he drew and told me about his monster… I got chills. No lie. Some of his descriptions were chillingly beautiful. We discussed the monster over pasta, then went into what’s in the closet that scares him. It’s doll and stuffed animal eyes.

I was thinking we would do a light, kid friendly minster under the bed kind of story. Instead, my son took my hand and led me into the shadows. I can do dark and twisty with beauty intermixed. I can’t live there for a novel, but I can visit.

I’ll have our story posted here before Fridays deadline.

And thank you, Chuck Wendig, for a great night out with the boy child.

Bye Facebook

It started with me limiting my time on Facebook. Then, 2 days ago, it quit working on my phone. Which is what I used to browse Facebook.

At first it was hard. Still is to some degree. Most of my friends and family are on it, so I like to pop in and see what’s going on with them.

Except…

That’s not what Facebook is anymore, is it? There are a few people who will update with something more personal than Night FB FAMILY! Who still show pictures and snippets of their lives. But for the most part, we’ve become obsessed with memes and shares of new stories that aren’t knews. And really, in a lot of them they aren’t written well either…

So I’ve been taking a bigger break than intended. But I’ve had some nice suprises. I’ve been on WordPress more, catching up with my favorites, passing along links to those who I think need them. Discovering new bloggers. Reading on my breaks. Feeling more connected.

Writing more.

Facebook isn’t evil, but I think it helps to take a step back from it. Otherwise, we might be so busy sharing and tagging that sunset picture someone else took… Instead of seeing the gorgeous one in front of you.
Live well, my lovelies. Obviously I’m writing more too. Hope to see more of you!

When

When did I forget that I love to travel?

Something so simple. And yet it took a phone call with my Auntie for me to realize that… hey. Philly is far away, but… there are airplanes. I can save for a trip out there.

I have flown before. I have flown many a time. I love the leashed energy right before take off. It’s amazing when you burst up into the air. Yet my son doesn’t know that about me. He doesn’t know that while I am afraid of driving in the mountains, there are so many other places I’ve traveled and had fun.

When did traveling become scary? Or is it scary?  Why is it scary, if it is?

When? Why? How?

The change has to start now.

So let it begin.

 

Santa Mom

I felt my mom close to me this weekend, as if she were with me while I shopped. She was there as I found the special soup spoons she used when we were sick, and the babmoo grippers thingees that she used to pull toast out when it got stuck in the toaster. She was there with me in a tractor supply store (don’t ask), as I started bawling.

I started bawling, the first time, because of a day planner. The year my mom died, she kept a day planner, and used the spaces for days of the week as a sort of journal. The comings and goings of us kids, all grown, and her little trips with dad… all in the little journal. Some weeks were full to the brim. Some only had a few filled out.

Then she died.

I couldn’t look at that blank planner, so I started filling it in for her. Comings and goings, a little glimpse into life right after she died. It was 20 or so years ago, but I still remember that journal. I think I still have it somewhere. But I know it. I know the cover, i know the feel of it, and I know what it looked like on the inside.

And in the tractor supply store, right with all the calendars… was a copy of that same damn planner, only for 2017. Same. Damn. One.

I bought it. I will put it into my stocking, and I will write in it. Buying it means that I now have 2 but one will be for my writing and one will be for my adventures in mommyhood.with my boy.

And then Walmart happened.

In talking with a friend, I told her I don’t know why I’m so emotional today. I don’t know why this is happening, but…

But I’m tired of being the one to do for everyone. I do stockings for everyone in the house, because Mom did. Because to me, that stocking shows time and attention and love. Dad used to do mine, and help with his current wife’s stocking… but since the stroke (and maybe a little before), it hasn’t happened.

I know every single present that is currently under the tree.

Even mine.

And it sucks. Because my son would love to do it for me. And wanted to. But I didn’t think to think outside the little house. But next year, next year… I have 2 different people who have said that they will take him out shopping for me, and help him do my stocking too.

Friends and family are a blessing. But sometimes, you have to stop being so strong and powering through… at least enough to ask for help.

I fell Mom close to me right now. Not just because of the stuff, but because of people willing to come together and help out.

Love you guys.

If you know someone who is a single parent, if the child is old enough, offer to take them shopping for their parent. Both the child and the single parent will appreciate it. Being strong and keeping it together, especially under the pressure of making the perfect holiday is tough.

 

 

Love Never Dies

I know this to be true:

Love remains, even when all that is left is a memory.

Love remains, through the years you should have had together.

Love remains, even as grief changes the very molecules of your soul.

Love remains, as you live your life, alone or with others.

Always, always, love remains.

Love never dies.