Rainstorms and Rainbows

Tonight I had one of those “divorce” experiences that must be common but that no body ever talks about.

The kids have been with their daddy these past several days (Memorial Day Weekend) and I was super missing them and just wanted to touch their blond heads with my lips and breath them in for a minute… no harm no foul right?

WRONG.

I had this tsunami of emotion wash over me that was so massive I felt like I was drowning for a moment.
There they were, happy faces, love and big mommy hugs and MAN, I miss my whole family.

I miss the times that were so few to begin with … and honestly, the rest are the visions and dreams of our family I created that took root in the womb of my own mind and grew right along with them.  It’s ok to be sad still right?  I wish for the day when I am no longer so saddened by the turn of events in my life, and can choose more naturally and quickly the optimism that is never too far behind the grief…

like the rainbow after the rainstorm.

(Thank you Mr. Goodbar for just holding me and letting me cry… you are my rainbow)

Ready to Love You Summa Summa Time

Dear Summer, 

I am ready to love you like never before.  Truly, madly, deeply.  Please ravage my body and inspire my soul…. it’s been a while since you and I had a real love affair. I was super busy being super busy in the past, and I promise not to take you for granted this year.  Things I am already loving about you: 

1) Driving with my windows down and the wind in my hair

2) Sunglasses on top of my head keeping my messy hair in place

3) Watermelon with Lime drizzled on top- ever try this? omg… amazing! 

4) Sun kissed faces

5) Salty Air and hair 

6) Outdoor music and sand in my toes

7) Steamers, and Margaritas 

8) Hearing my children laugh through open windows

9) Fresh cut flowers sitting on my dining room table

10) Car trips to Kennebunk Maine to visit my family

HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY EVERYONE! 

We only photograph beautiful people… which means YOU are next. (via The Revelation Project)

We only photograph beautiful people... which means YOU are next. Why is it so hard to look at ourselves in the mirror and see our own inherent beauty? I was talking to a couple of friends of mine yesterday about the difference between America and other cultures.  In America we have a “standard of beauty” which is vey narrow AND very much an illusion. My girlfriend remarked yesterday that her friend had come to visit from France and everywhere they went the woman said… “where are all the women with short hair … Read More

via The Revelation Project

We only photograph beautiful people… which means YOU are next. (via The Revelation Project)

We only photograph beautiful people... which means YOU are next. Why is it so hard to look at ourselves in the mirror and see our own inherent beauty? I was talking to a couple of friends of mine yesterday about the difference between America and other cultures.  In America we have a “standard of beauty” which is vey narrow AND very much an illusion. My girlfriend remarked yesterday that her friend had come to visit from France and everywhere they went the woman said… “where are all the women with short hair … Read More

via The Revelation Project

Strobe Lights and Sucker Punches

Yesterday’s excursion to “the broken city of Boston” as my eight year old calls it (She hasn’t seen Baghdad) was a huge success minus the first ten minutes of arrival as the whole limping lot of us desperately searched for a “John” after a 1.5 hour car ride.  That, and the direct sucker punch to the face that my small but effective son landed in my daughters face at the finale of the Blue Man Group Performance (I think the strobe lights made him do it).

The sun was shining in Boston Commons Gardens before the show and we got to watch as people rode the Swan Boats while we fed the ducks, and the kids oohed and ahhed the swans, and met up with my oldest brother who usually is a bit of a crabby pants but promised to be on his best behavior for the event.  Mr. Goodbar was awesome with the motley crew that is my family- and graciously made conversation, gestures, and actions consistant with someone who has an active interest in connecting with those of us around him (love that).

As I nervously waited for the show to start I looked to my right and saw my Mother, Brother and Son, and to my left at  My Daughter and Mr. Goodbar- and I felt HAPPY. REALLY HAPPY.  The only thing better than this moment was watching my crabby pants brother let go and howl in laughter, glee, and hysterics as each portion of the performance got more and more outrageous.  I’m not sure if I was laughing harder at the performance or watching him watch the performance.

After the big giant orbs were let down from the ceiling, but before the sucker punch I said I small prayer of gratitude in the strobing light of my life and the people in it I call family.  Thanks for a beautiful, wonderful, performance art day kind of a day.

I’ll never forget it.

Heating the Kitchen with the Oven

It’s 8:26 and my kids are eating cupcakes with frosting and jimmies and in about another minute will ask to watch Merlin on the ipad. It’s Sunday. I’ve no idea some days how to even start off on the right foot.  Isn’t the right foot “optional” on the weekend?  It’s the seventh day in a row of darkness and rain and I’m out of firewood. No more oil in the tank.  Is it wrong to heat the kitchen with the oven?

I know great things are on the horizon for me.  I just know it.  I’m gaining amazing powers through the law of attraction.
Someday this magical world of messy filled wonder and broken crayons will be behind me.  I’ll conjure a fairy named Talulah- la.la.la. who’ll make it all go away- you know, the endless piles of laundry I just washed and the crumb covered counter tops?  The litter box will always be clean, the kids bathed, the dishes washed and a cozy fire burning on the hearth.  Fresh wholesome food at the ready, and fresh flowers be-decking the table (I made that word up I think).

Some may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one- (ok I certainly did not make those words up)
Until then… I’ll draw myself a bath (of wine) and soak my resistance away……

Happy Sunday.

Raised By A Trucker

Lately I just have writers block.

I hate when that happens.

I hate it.

I hate it.

I hate it.

oh,

and I hate it.

Today Me and Mr. Goodbar are taking the kids and my Mom to see The Blue Man Group in boston for my Mothers birthday.  It’ll be tough because my mom (bless her heart) is 71 and has to pee like every 10 minutes.  I don’t even know why I tell you her age because she’s been doing that since I was like seven.  It’s SO ANNOYING.  She looks at me kind of like a kid would and says…. “uh, oh- I have to find a “JOHN” and I retort “MOM! Were you raised by TRUCKERS!!!? A JOHN????” and she giggles (which makes her have to pee more) and then I have to find her a LADIES ROOM somewhere. anywhere.

Needless to say we are going to the City of Boston where it’s NOT like there is a JOHN on every corner (hmmm upon reflection that’s probably not accurate). at all.

So really…I have three children today.   I don’t really know why I have writers block.  I have plenty of writing material with my mother around.  The photo below?  She loves to drive with a toothpick hanging out her her mouth.   Pretty much I’ve been mortified since the day I was born, and she could really care less.

My Mother: The Trucker

Normal? That’s never really been my life.

The past almost eight weeks has really been a blur.  I started conducting social media workshops at my house just around the time my neighbor Robyn had a snowboarding accident and sustained a level three concussion which had originally thrown everything into a chaotic scramble.

Come July Robyn will have lived across the street for an entire year so needless to say having had so much in common (single mom’s, 2 small children, photography, our own businesses, and a love for self development) we developed a fairly significant bond. Her concussion strengthened that bond even further as throughout her recovery process myself and several others have been helping her get back to “normal” whatever that is.

Laughingly the other night we wondered if that’s even possible given the turn of events these weeks have provided.  Robyn’s head injury has allowed her to tap into a deeper knowing of herself and those around her that some might even say borders on (you fill in the blank).

Those of us around her who know her best have witnessed the change in her… a calmer more centered demeanor and while at first i wondered if perhaps I should call this “the injury” – it’s also clear that it’s not in any way impaired her work, the project, or her ability to process her thoughts and emotions…  her hectic, spinning, ADD self is gone… and in it’s place there seems to be a quiet, calm, knowing that some might find disconcerting.  Honestly, I’d be worried if I did not know her as well I do- and to my great relief her humor and wit is back in full form, which, if not for that I’d been truly beside myself with concern.  She is officially Robyn… but altered as if to a higher form of herself (maybe I should bump my head?)

So life continues along its semi- hectic pace with a new twist in the agenda, as Robyn taps in to what we can only both think of right now as a gift.  Her clarity and calm and optimism is refreshing and exciting and well, calming.

We resumed work on The Revelation Project last week and the experience seems more inspiring that ever, and I honor in my heart what I believe to finally be a greater part of my calling in the world.  Maybe that sounds hokey but I feel called to it in a way that is different for me.  I have no business to be unconcerned for money or material comforts as my “situation” does not really lend itself to a life of leisure – lol. But I feel like because the money is not the motive and my heart is 100% in it… it creates an ease, and earns “enough” to at least take the edge off.   In the meantime my social media classes and blogging workshops have been filled with amazing people who come to learn something I did not even realize I had to offer… (thanks Jennifer Neuguth) and who help me pay for the weeks groceries (side plug: I’ve got another social media workshop coming up late may on a SATURDAY for those who cant make a week day so let me know if you want to book a seat!)

It’s been a LOOOONG three years but I will officially now say:  I AM HAPPY.

(Deep gratitude to those of you who have been the light while i was the darkness)