The broken record days.

There are those days when I find it hard to hear myself above the incessant monologue of doubt playing over and over in my head like a broken record. These last few days have been those broken record kind of days.

The semester is winding down and the teachers are getting much more demanding. Its suddenly time to prove myself with final papers and tests and quizzes and projects! It just seems so sinister. Its not enough that I've shown up to every class, or scored high on my quizzes, no, I have to prove I "get it" through a twenty page report that is to include an evaluation of the teacher and what she could do to make the course better! That just feels like a trap to me. There is no right way to write this paper. 

And of course, finals week has to coincide with two of my four children's birthdays. Of course it does! And of course my daughter has to have a big party with over a dozen prepubescent tweens and an eighties themed dance because after all she's turning twelve and that's what you do when you're turning twelve. And of course my seven year old son decides that now, during finals time, is the right time to throw some massive fits and basically act out his own rendition of The Exorcist! Of course! Because anything less than catastrophic would be making things much too easy on me. 

I have this amazing ability to find the most impossible of roads to travel and then travel them. Its like I find these roads that no one even knew existed because its hidden in the thicket, not traveled since ancient times because everyone has figured out that its just a ridiculous way in which to go, but I just have to take it, because I'm April and that's what I do! I travel the road of sure defeat. Dead man's cove. Of course this road I'm referring to is metaphoric. I'm not saying that I'm now an off-road motor cross biker or anything, just an off-road life biker. Instead of just accepting my place in the world, I have to make myself into something better or die trying. 

The goal is to attain a college degree in order to make a better life for myself and the kids. The kids dream of a house with a yard to play in. I dream of a house with a yard I can throw the kids out to. And a laundry room with a washer and dryer I don't have to feed quarters to. I dream of a job I enjoy, where I feel I make a real difference. It all sounds simple enough, until you get to the nitty gritty, the details like babysitting and bills. I couldn't possibly keep up with school and a job, but I can't keep up the bills without a job. Its a tough spot to be in and days like these I question my goal. Is it impossible? Is in unrealistic? Do I need to accept my place as an uneducated woman in a less than ideal career? These are just some of the thoughts that race through my brain on the worst of these broken record days. 

Because Blogs With Pictures of Cats are Super Popular

 The Insurance commercial I heard on the radio yesterday said that if you want to have a successful blog, a good place to start is by posting pictures of cats. People love cats! So hear is a picture of a cat. He is a little exotic looking. People love exotic too! I like to call him, Silver bullet because it would probably take a silver bullet to kill it.









Just to ensure that my little rant pages are super successful, I'm going to go ahead and treat you to another little darling.

 This little guy carries a cunning resemblance to a bar tender I regrettably went on a couple of dates with. He has the same menacing look in his eyes, bad sense of jewelry fashion, and of course the mo-hawk which was Mr. Bar tender's own little trade mark that set him apart so well from all the other fifty million dumb asses with the same due. Little kitty wears his better, in my opinion that is. Not withstanding, I think I'll call this one Scotch on the Rocks.

What do you think? Do we need a finale to keep my sudden influx of new readers coming back for more? I think so. This last little cutie is proof that life does exist on other galaxies and that they are not staying home. We are being invaded people!

I think I'll call him Zuel after the evil demon from the classic 80's film, Ghost Busters. (one of my favs by the way)

But then, I'm kind of torn. Zuel also looks quite a lot like a hellish version of Skippy John Jones, the beloved character from the very popular children's book series. That gives me an idea for a new book in the series, "Skippy John Jones gets carried away with a bottle of Nair".

Any way, I hope you all enjoyed these pictures of cute cuddly cats as much as I did. Its amazing how animals can melt your heart and make you feel all fuzzy inside. I guess that's why blogs with pictures of cats are so very popular. I'm sure glad I listened to the radio.

From Stay-at-home Mom to... What Ever Type of Mom This Is

 The entire dynamic of the family experience has changed dramatically since I have become a single mother.   stay-at-home mom's are able to be so much more devoted to their kids. If a mom really uses this opportunity in the right way, really cherishes their role in their children's lives, their kids benefit so much more.Even though my friends and family have assured me that my children will not grow up to write a book on child deprivation using me as the example of the worst mom ever, I still have a sense of loss and guilt. I'm sure its normal. Just like any loss, (and a major life change is a loss of a former life) there is a grieving process. This is a list of mine.

 I feel guilty that I don't really make nice home cooked meals for the kids anymore. Roast and potatoes on Thursday nights are now a thing of the past, unless I find a pre-made version in the grocery store that I pop in the oven. I also don't really have the time or money to enroll the kids in sports or dance classes anymore. I'm sure the kids feel a little deprived in that area.

 I don't have the luxury of taking the littlest one to story time at the library, something my older children  really looked forward to when they were little. Ashton really looked forward to those trips. We would sit together on the floor, sing the songs and listen to the stories. It was more than a way to get out of the house, (although that was a nice benefit) it was an opportunity for us to bond.

We don't take nearly as many excursions to the park as we used to. I am not the mom who chaperons the class field trips. Our little Halloween parties I used to throw for the kids would be near impossible to pull off in this situation.

I guess the thing to do is to focus on the benefits that our current situation affords us. The kids have learned a lot about responsibility since they have had to take on more of it and that is an important lesson that will help them in their adult life. In those rare times that we are able to go out to the park or out for ice cream, it is much more appreciated by the kids as well as for myself. I hope that by being in school myself, it sets a good example for the kids that higher education is important.

These ideas are what gets me out of bed and to my classes every day. These are the the hopes that get me finishing my homework in place of family dinners. The hope that by making these sacrifices now will lead to a better future is what keeps me trying to grasp the math concepts that do not come easily.

Sometimes I must remind myself that the past, however idealistic it seemed, is just that, the past. The memories we have are often selective. Like photographs, we remember only the happy times, and block the tough times from our minds.So, although I will always believe that a stay-at-home mom is the most beneficial way to raise children, I can appreciate that there are benefits that come from this family dynamic as well. I will honor our past as a traditional family and embrace the future.

Who The Hell Are We Anyway? And Does It Matter?

I have spent most of my life living within someone else's reality. As a younger girl, I tried to be what I thought my mother wanted me to be, but never really could get it right. I'm still unsure of what it was that she had in mind, or if she even had an idea mapped out at all! She may have been fine with me just being me, but I was so busy trying to figure out what she wanted me to be that I missed that memo entirely.

 When I got older, and entered young adult-hood I attempted to mold myself into what I thought my culture expected of me. By "culture" I mean Utah Mormon culture. If anyone knows the LDS religion they know it is more than a religion, its a life style.The problem with my effort to conform is that it was based solely on my own misinterpretations. There is no one way to do anything and that includes being a Mormon, its all left to one's own discretion. Contrary to what I believed, individuality does exist within Mormonism, therefore, trying to keep up was more than exhausting, it was futile.

While I was trying to perfect the art of scrap booking because "Sally Sue" down the street believes it is the best way to preserve your family memories, I forgot that I should also be baking banana bread because another fellow neighbor lady insists baking is a good, nutritious way to show your family that you care as well  as to avoid letting the bananas that have been rapidly browning on the counter go to waste. Meanwhile, inside my own head, all I really want to do is open a can of spaghettio's for the kids and then all take a walk to the park to play Frisbee.

I think it goes without saying that trying to be what someone else wanted me to be proved disastrous within the institution of my marriage as well. I just never seemed to get it right. I don't hold it against my ex-husband, how was he to know I wasn't who he thought I was when I didn't even know who I was? If this is confusing for you to grasp you can imagine how confusing it was to live.

Well,  there comes a time in everyone's life when one must take a long hard look in the mirror and ask, "Who the hell am I?".And since there is no reference outside of one's self in which to base that answer upon, one must admit that they are completely unique and thus undefinable. Truth is we all live in separate realities. Sure our realities collide with one other all the time, but it doesn't change the fact that our reality is totally different than any other persons. And at the end of the day, it doesn't really matter if you have successfully lived up to anyone's expectations, only that you lived up to your own.

So, I gave up trying to be what I thought everyone wanted me to be and just started living. You know, making sure the kids have a well-balanced diet, homework gets done and clothes are clean... the basics. My mother still likes to tell me what I should be doing, how to discipline my kids, or what I should want out of life. She's pretty hung up on the idea that I find myself a widower with a couple of children to marry and all become the Brady Bunch. I still don't understand why, in her fantasy, this guy's poor wife has to be dead, it seems sort of demented to me. I think she just likes saying the word "widower". It must remind her of a Charlotte Braunte novel or something. I know she means well, so I just laugh and assure her that I am perfectly fine with my life situation just the way it is. I've got plenty on my plate with kids and school, and men are great...in moderation.

The ex- husband and I don't always see eye to eye on parenting matters, but he has accepted the idea that I just am who I am and I have done the same for him. The important thing is that the kids know we both love them more than anything and that they are free to just be the amazing and unique beings that they are. They know I  don't have any mold for them to fit into and they shouldn't worry about fitting into anyone else's either. I encourage them to find their own definition of happiness, just as I am defining mine. We are all who we are... Marvelous.

Eat, Pray, Love, (improv)

Its amazing the things you discover about yourself when you're flying solo. I've spent most of my adult life in some  kind of serious relationship so this last year has been a great lesson in self discovery. I'm not going to pretend that this has been a thrill ride, I am not in a position to travel abroad and eat strange foods like in Eat, Pray, Love (Elizabeth Gilbert 2007), How cool would that be? I have made some spaghetti for dinner, does that count as an Italian experience? And I've enjoyed many books on eastern philosophy. No exotic trips, I've had to do my self-discovery right here in Utah while balancing kids and work, but that's not to say I haven't made time for meaningful experience, and meaningful is the most important part in the game of self discovery.

I won't easily forget the late nights I spent in side-stitching laughter discussing one of my pathetic guy-of-the- week stories with Eve. I thought we were going to get ourselves kicked out of the Bistro on 25th for loud and noxious behavior. We may have if there were anyone else in the restraunt at the time.

 I have discovered that although it is something I always wanted to do,  I  don't much care for working as an extra on a movie set. That gig is a lot of sitting and repetition and if anyone knows me they will know that sitting and repetition are the worst forms of torture anyone could inflict on me. I've discovered that twenty-two-year old college girls are awesome to party with, but remind me that I am so NOT twenty-two anymore. Twenty-five-year old boys with mohawkes are better off left alone, and posing in stilettos and a Star Wars mask on the planes of the salt flat desert is much harder than it looks. One of my favorite experiences in self discovery was finding my voice through improvisational comedy.

Cast of Hilarity House Productions

I know what you're thinking. Improv? That's such a dorky thirty-something, singles-with no life thing to do, and you're right, it is, but the dorks of our society are the one's  brave enough to be different and that is very cool.

 I had no idea we even had improv shows in my area until my cousin invited me to go with her one Friday night. I had just quit my job at the American Red Cross, moved into our apartment by the University, and was going through the insane run around it takes to get registered and tested for school. I was in desperate need of some stress relief and laughter is after all the best medicine. The comedy show is housed in a very unique christian rock revival church/coffee shop. The show had me sucked in from the very start. I found myself shouting one-liners at the actors and roaring with laughter. I was even penalized for a sexually explicit comment. Oops. Then, they asked for audience volunteers!

I was chosen, because I was the most obnoxious and eager audience member,  and it was crazy fun! I was playing the wife of a very old, and sickly man (coincidentally going by the name of my ex-husband Nathan, ehem) and we were participants on the newly wed game. I immediately decided my character had to be a sexy gold digging bimbo. We had a lot of fun and I was later recruited by the cast to join the classes where I would learn some of the finer points of improv comedy.Of course I jumped on the opportunity! Just that little bit on the stage was a huge release for me.

The classes have been an interesting and fun experience. The teacher is passionate about his form of art, (and is also, I might add, a very talented sketch artist as well). There is a lot of serious work that goes into good comedy. The first lesson, lose yourself in the character, not try to be funny. Interesting concept for comedy, don't try to be funny! Its true though. The minute you start trying to find some witty thing to say is the minute you are a flop job. Reality is great comedy and tragedy is the best comedy!

My favorite night at Improv class was when I was given the task to get offended by an innocent remark made by another actor. I was not to react with sudden, explosive rage, but to start off only slightly annoyed and let it build. Chris, our teacher warned me to really pace myself as he would be letting me run for a while. This scene was great. I think the teacher sensed my built up anger and wanted me to use it. This exercise was better than therapy.

 The comment my teammate chose was "I like soccer". Innocent enough, and not exactly controversial. But for me, it worked. I did what was asked, slowly nodding my head,  I let the words mingle with my deep seated frustration. I slowly, and methodically let the rage escape. I'm pretty sure that by the end of the scene, the entire building could hear me, and everyone in it probably thought a lunatic was on the lose. I was loud and I was emphatic, and there was no part of the room or my body I didn't use to show it. The class was roaring with laughter and I was oozing with adrenaline.My class mates and I laughed about it for a few classes afterward. The boy who played out the scene with me, (or rather stood and took my abuse) joked about being fearful of me and others said they would watch any talk of soccer when in my presence. The teacher congratulated me on my break through.

I'm sure it sounds funny that I would classify my silly improv experience as self-discovery, but the truth is, it was very life-defining for me. I learned that life isn't always supposed to be serious just like comedy isn't always supposed to be funny. I learned that its fun to be dorky, and sometimes the wildly funny guy on stage with the crazy hair and all the right lines, is a deep and sensitive genius off stage. I learned to be spontaneous sometimes, regardless of how you look because no one's opinion of you really matters but your own. And most of all, I learned that sometimes you just have to let go!

Seeking Insight Into Life's Most Challenging Questions

There is one topic that seems to pop up quite often in conversations with my friends. Why do people continue to have children in a world that is plagued with misery and evil? This question was weighing particularly hard on me the other night as I struggled to find the answer. I guess I had never really thought about it before. I have always let my heart lead me, and the choice to have children was no exception to that rule. Have I just been selfish, or naive?

This thought continued to haunt me for a couple of days. Of course I love my children, and I have always tried to do what was best for them, but now I was questioning weather bringing them into this world at all was doing what is best. As if I've set them up to fail.The idea was sobering. I only knew one thing for sure, that I could not imagine life without them now, so how could it have been the wrong choice then?

I decided to go on a little quest of sorts to find some insight on this subject. I happen to have many wise friends whom I know to have good answers to deep questions. I'm kind of lucky that way. When it comes to questions about children, I always go to Eve. Eve is one of the best mother's I know. She is kind and intuitive and very wise. This attribute of Eve's is in great contrast to the other, fun and silly side that I know. Seriously, she is the dirtiest minded little woman ever! But that is another topic for another post. As always, Eve did in fact have some very good insight.

" First of all," she said, "The world is not all misery and woe. There is a lot of good in the world too. And, how is the world supposed to change for the better if people don't have children and raise them to be the kind of good people that will do something to change what is wrong with it?"

She spoke the words that were trapped in my heart. I think these are things I've known, but need to be reminded of once in a while. My kids are amazing, and I'm sure a lot of people say that about their kids as well, because its true! We're better than our parents and our kids are better than us. I don't know how much I have to do with how great my kids are really, but I do know that if they weren't here, it would be more than just me that would be missing out. The world would be missing out on some little people who will one day make a difference. Sometimes we underestimate how strong they really are.

Now that I am reassured that not every choice I've made in my life was a huge mistake, and I'm not a big failure, the only thing left for me to ponder is how to be the mom my children need to become these great adults they will be. I've thought about this and the conclusion I've come to is simple.

Love. Maybe its too simple. Maybe I'm being naive again, but I don't think there is really a lot more that a parent can do for a child. All I know is that while we can teach them what we feel is right, they will probably defy it sometimes. While it hurts like hell to watch our children hurt, we cannot always prevent every fall, and if we did, we would be robbing them of their opportunity for growth. The one thing we can offer our children that cannot be mistaken or rebelled against is our consistent and unconditional love.

So, why do some people continue to have children? Maybe its because we choose LOVE!

The Neo-Hippie: My Profound Super Stupid Mistake.

Be careful of your actions, because there are some mistakes that your friends will not let you live down. These are the mistakes that have such great comedic value that they become conversation pieces at every afternoon tea or weekend BBQ.   I call these mistakes the super stupids. My greatest super stupid was a neo-hippie I  dated for about eight weeks last spring. We're going to call him, Samuel. I'm pretty sure "Samuel" won't be running into this blog anytime soon. Last I heard he was off  living in a shack in the canyon, but we'll protect his identity anyway. 

Things started out quite normal with Samuel. We met when both my dog and my three year old got away from me in the condo complex  I was living at the time. The dog ran to where Samuel was sitting on the lawn, ferociously barking at the poor guy.  Once I tamed my fearsome chiuaua, and reined in the little boy, we struck up a little conversation. He seemed sort of chill and wise. He spoke a lot about energy balance and opening the chakras. He was interested in how our emotions affect our health and how so many of our suffering as humans is unnecessary. All of which are things I've enjoyed studying from time to time. I thought he was intriguing.  I soon learned that there is a very fine line between intriguing and flat out crazy!

Samuel invited me to go hiking with him the following week and I'm always down for a good hike!.He was  kind of  witty and I enjoyed our hiking conversation, but I found it a little strange when he held his hand about an inch from a wild flower blossom to "feel its energy." He reported that it had an intensity about it he believed to be a sign it was about to bloom. I was thinking, duh, its like the middle of March, everything is about to bloom, some amazing intuition there.Red flag #1! 

I pride myself on my open mindedness when it comes to new types of people and ideas so I decided to give him another chance. I soon learned that while open mindedness is an honorable trait, it too has its limits. The more we hung out the more I wondered why it was he never wore anything other than karate pants. I asked him and he said that they were just really comfortable and he felt more centered in them. Okay, whatever floats you know? The karate pants became annoying when, in mid-conversation he'd suddenly jump up and start performing various martial arts moves. It didn't matter where we were, he'd strike a pose anywhere.  My living room, outside at the park, or  while dining at an indian restraunt. There was no place off limits. Red flag #2!

The night before Easter Sunday, Samuel called me up to invite me and my kids to brunch with him and his mom the next morning. I really shouldn't have accepted the invitation, I know. I did find it a bit much since we'd only known each other like two weeks. When I brought that up, Samuel assured me it was nothing more than a nice gesture, no strings attached. He wanted the kids and I to have a nice Easter even though he didn't believe in celebrating holidays. How nice right? Nice until his mom started talking about how much she would enjoy a daughter-in-law she could really get along with. Was this a trap? My future flashed before my eyes and it wasn't pretty. Red flag #3!

I'm a little embarrassed that I was given three very profound flags and yet I still continued seeing this guy. It was like watching a Woody Allen movie, sure they're weird, but you get curious to see what will happen next. And hey, it's given me some pretty good writing material, not to mention many good hours of laughter recounting the experiences with my girl friends! Okay, those are some pretty weak justifications. Lets just move on to the next flag.

I was beginning to feel a little suffocated by Samuel. It seemed he was always at my house. Sure he lived only a few houses down from mine, but I lived with my husband for eight years and I think I saw less of him in those years than I was seeing of Samuel. He didn't really have a normal job and his explanations on how he made his living were unclear. He did have a rather curious interest in bottney.  The most concerning thing about Samuel however, was his tendency to pop up unexpectedly in places I happened to be. I never had so many coincidental meetings with anyone. I would be at Walmart shopping for the household staples and there he was, just picking up a box of pens. Imagine that. He seemed to have a sixth sense about when I'd be returning home from the gym every Wednesday morning too. I barely had time to hang my keys on the hook before he was knocking. He said he believed we were connected in some spiritual sense, that he could feel my energy from miles away and was inexplicably drawn to it. He even thought that I may be a witch and have cast some sort of love spell on him. Red flag #4!

By this point I was long aware of his insanity but was a little afraid of what he might do when I "broke up"with him. I put "broke up" in quotes because it had been much too little time since we met to think we were a couple at all but of course Samuel saw things differently. I decided I could wait it out a couple more weeks since that would be the time I was moving. Distance would make things much easier. I did start hinting to him that I was ready to move on. I spoke a lot about how I'd be starting school soon and wouldn't really have enough time or energy to put into a relationship. He deserved better than the scraps of time I could toss his way. None of these were really sinking in. So I threw him a stinger. "I have a wandering way. I can never stay with one person very long at all. I just enjoy the chase too much." God, I felt like a guy, a really jerky guy, saying that, (and its not in the least bit true). The last two weeks were the most bazar.

When Samuel showed up day after day wearing no shoes I began to wonder if he had eaten them or burned them in some magical ceremony. At this point, nothing could surprise me. "Spring is in full force now. Its the season of  bare feet. To truly feel connected to mother earth one must tread upon her back with naked feet so that her healing vibrations can enter the body". Does mother earth get a say in this? Perhaps she's like all the other females on this planet and would really rather not have any part of your naked body treading anywhere on hers. Didn't matter where we went, Samuel faithfully went with bare feet. Red flag #5.

Okay, way too many flags piling up here. I had to make a clean break. Just a few days before the big move I   gave Samuel the proverbial boot. " I just feel that our energies are disconnecting. We're on different paths now and to fight against it would be unnatural. Who are we to argue with the universe?" I thought it was pretty clever. It worked too...for the most part. Samuel insisted that as a final gesture of peace and love he would help me move. Hey, who am I too argue with universal gestures of peace and love? It would be unnatural. Samuel was a huge help. He showed up with the largest size of moving van available and loaded up the house, with little help from any one else. And he did it entirely bare footed. I'm not kidding! You have to give the guy props for that! 

Samuel and I  finally parted and on fairly good terms. Although I did have to reinforce the break up several times, once with the threat of a restraining order. But in the end he wished me well, offering  these final words, "May love and peace be with you always, my love. Goodbye."  And goodbye my super stupid!

We've Only Just Begun...

I'm back! I'm new and improved and so is my blog. Its been over a year since I've written anything (unless you count writing out rent checks ). Its not that I haven't felt the urge to write. I always enjoy writing, I've just been very busy living. As you can see from the new look and title of the blog, I've been rebuilding, and though this rebuilding of life is still very much in process (who's life isn't right) things are established enough that I have a chance to take up my hobby again. It feels good. Point is I'm so excited to be back!

I've experienced so much and learned even more throughout this year. Not every part of it has been pleasant, in fact I've been through hell and back and then to hell again a number of times. There have been times this last year, and I'm sure there will be again, that I've doubted my strength to make it through and then I discovered that I'm stronger than I thought. I've also had experiences that have been just down right fun, some that have been unbelievably crazy and some that have been profoundly beautiful.

 I've learned that some of the wild things I've seen in movies and thought were so far-fetched can actually happen in real life . I've discovered that some of the most interesting and profound people are the one's I've usually written off as odd balls and some of the people I thought were profound were actually the oddest of balls.

I've discovered that the loss of a dream is the loss of an illusion that is only blocking us from the potential of an amazing reality. What is traditional is not always what is best.

Most of all I've learned that living is meant to be so much more than going through the motions. We're not robots, stepford wives, we're marvelous beings in motion. Each day, each moment we live is meaningful in ways we cannot even fathom. This is my self discovery, lesson's I've learned, this is my life.



This past year I've watched my girls grow from carefree kids to responsible contributors of the household. I've struggled with this. I've wondered if so much responsibility is healthy or scaring.  I mean, I haven't given in and dropped out leaving them to figure out their own survival. These amazing girls at 11 and 9 have just stepped  up, learned how to scramble their own eggs, how to change a diaper, how to resolve their own conflicts with each other, and how to prioritize between things we really want and things we really need. I've concluded that this kind of working together is simply what we have to do if we're going to make this family work. Its a new dynamic, one that will perhaps be beneficial in preparing them for success in their own adult lives. Childhood illusions have been replaced and these kids have grown well past their years. Its not the ideal situation but our love for each other will ensure that everything will be alright.

This journey has been so intense, so exciting, and so worth writing about. I hope you'll enjoy the stories of my journey as much as I will enjoy writing them. Perhaps someone in a similar situation will even be able to use my experiences as a kind of assurance that falling apart isn't the worst thing that can happen, sometimes its the best thing.