Is 32 hours too little too late to take a slice and zoom into the nucleus of each neurotransmitter firing and shutting down in rapid succession? It hasn't brought the ingredients and blended into a cake of reality I can taste. The fear and disbelief lay behind my eyes ready to drown the silence in tears if I didn't distract each bit terror swimming to the surface of a break down.

Keep applying direct pressure to the wound... it can always be fixed...

There is heavy breathing and legs that multiply to compromise the comfort of every position. Why are these dogs drawn to you when you want most is to lay upon a mattress of no guilt and no responsibility?

The breathing settles into a mere hum only to have the oxygen bullied by the silent gas that strikes an assault with every breath. Should not have fed them treats of fatty meat otherwise thrown away. But this breathing and these legs and these smells belong to animals that were taken in and have inserted themselves right alongside the youngest family member expecting to be equal. So goes another night of sacrificing selfish time for space in which another is given room and love.

06/18/12

Your shadow snuck up on me even though I know you're gone. I walk that block at night under emotions that flare stronger than the one street light. A breeze brushed my shoulder and I turned instinctively to chat with you. But you're not there. You were. You still are at night by my side...always.

My little girl, whose not so little, pleads with me to add songs to her playlist on my iPod. So I scramble through my library of songs I once loved, downloaded for free, and still sometimes cling to in order to find something "new" to her. She's now a fan of The Beatles and Ray Charles. I love that kid.

No, I didn't forget about you, blog. I've been avoiding you.

I begin with an idea of how I want to tell a story and then there's no room on the board and no matter how many times I swap tiles I end up with letters that only spell six points.

I used to write better. I used to write- period. Maybe I wasn't that good. Maybe that's not the point. I used to read what I had written and it was a close translation to my feelings. The posts I didn't write could fill a Top 100 / Best Of Engrish.com list for how poorly my emotions and thoughts were translated into the English language.

My blog. As if I own you. I don't. I have permission to post things until someone decides I don't any longer.

There are so many bite-sized stories that could fill only a paragraph. Then there is the list of things I'm cautious about putting online. I embarrassed my daughter last night and she called me a life-ruiner. I wanted to share something touching she did for someone and she buried herself in a blanket.

People (the proverbial "they") will tell you how fast time with a child goes by and to soak it all in as if you could put it in a bottle. I wish in some ways I could go back to when I had my tiny baby, but I'd only take more pictures and a ton of video. I don't want to go back. I like where we are now. Even if sometimes I don't want to be the grown-up.

I hate "what-ifs" as much as I hate bell peppers. Give me reality. Give me now. I'll get to the next part when it's time.

It's 12:47 a.m. and the anxiety has inflated and is seeping out into the air.

I acquiesce and almost run to take my 'Calm the freak down' pill (Xanex). But only half. I haven't taken it for a few days, and a whole pill may leave me too groggy to make it to class on time in the morning.

I can barely hold on to the names of my anxieties as I reach to calm them down or throw them far from the reach of my conscious mind.

I miss my dog.
I want another dog.
I can't really devote enough time or energy to a dog right now.

Why did it take me so long to realize Lucia could be dyslexic? Why did no one else notice?
What if she's not? How many tests are there available for learning disabilities?
When is the school going to test her?
Why haven't they tested her yet- it's been 24 hours!

Final projects are due next week. I'll miss my classmates- I'll have to work to keep in touch.

Too many bad habits.
Still too much fear.

So many good things, too.
Love my bed.

Until I find an awesome way to archive the gems that come from my child I'm posting some of them here to archive and make room for more.


"Mom, sometime will you show me some of your moves of water?" 07/09/09
↑ ↓

"Mom, I can hear your breathing from in between your boobs." 07/09/09
↓

"Holy guacamole your nose is peeling down fast like water on a snowy hill." 07/07/09
↑ ↓

"I'd be so fun there. [Chuck e. Cheese's]" 06/27/09
↑ ↓

"You think I should be a piano player or speak bird?" 06/11/09
↓

"Mom, with those glasses you look like a nanny or not my mom." 06/11/09
↑ ↓

"Mom, maybe we should go through the whole town and find a boy that's not married and get him to marry you. We can start tomorrow just asking every boy I see." 05/25/09
↑ ↓

"Sometimes when other people are talking about me I just act normal." 04/28/09
↑ ↓

"If I were a pirate I'd take a umbrella with me." 04/27/09
↑ ↓

“My mom has a egg ped because she has old feet with cracks like volcanoes.” 04/25/09
↓

"I know math; two plus two equals two plus two, I think." 04/25/09
↓

"Is this the first time you've had hot chocolate with a friend?" 04/15/09
↓

"I sure picked the right mom to snuggle with and kiss all the time." 04/13/09
↓

"Will, we gotta get a clue." 04/04/09
↑ ↓

"Don't give those [menus] to us, we can't read." 04/04/09
↓

Me- "Lucia, do you know the name of your school?" Lucia- "Payson Market." 04/04/09
↓

"Meow Meow usually listens to me. Sometimes she ignores me like Mc-Ignoring-Pants." 03/28/09
↓

"Just call him, Mr. Nobody-that-has-a-name." 03/19/09
↑ ↓

"Mommy if I wish on a star tonight I'm gonna wish I was Hannah Montana and I'm gonna wish you were a little bit taller." 03/30/09

It's past 2:00 a.m. and I'm avoiding going to bed. The thought popped into my head that I should be in bed and then another thought chimed in asking when is bedtime for adults. I have a pretty easy schedule right now, but does that mean I should stay up till all hours searching the cable and Internet tubes for anything to keep my interest and fight the grown-up voice saying it's time for bed? I could do that and then there are some not so fun consequences later.

Why do we fight limits? Especially when we know we have choices and certain choices limit one thing while gifting you extra things? I know I often resist for no other reason than to fight back against...against what? against my own possibilities?

No more resistance for tonight. I'll learn some new lessons tomorrow. I do love my bed, and it's time to show it! ;)

Dear Lee-lu-bee, Boo-sha-boo, Love bug, Bug, Luc, Cia, Bug-a-boo, Baby girl:

I've begun this letter many times and for some reason my computer keeps eating my words. So, perhaps it's best I keep this simple and post before this special day is technically ended. After all, there are no accidents.

I have been blessed to have more time with you this past year. It's been a challenge at times. However, there is nothing that would replace the light you are in my heart. You are my joy. Thank you for making me a mom.

Love,

Momma

It's beyond time to get back to doing what I like and what I do well. I've been holding back from moving forward in fear that I couldn't find one job I wanted to do for the rest of my life. So the things I'm good at won't win me any awards, no throngs of scholars will show up at my funeral, no one will be clambering to be me. I'm still a great person. I have felt twinges of failure when I look at my grandmother's life. The thing is I like me, and the lack of degrees and prestige don't inhibit me from enjoying life. So, I'm taking the grains of truth and letting the rest of the baggage I took on fall to the ground.

In this time of not working I've been wracking my brain to think of that one job that would fulfill me even on the days when it was hard and not just the fun days. Except I already have that job. I'm a mom. I remember many years ago thinking I didn't want to stay home. I liked work. I assumed I'd like a break during the day. Now granted there were times once I became a mom that I counted myself as blessed to have great people watching my daughter while I worked. What I didn't plan on was the deep sense of missed time. Working full-time and then only having three hours a day during the week to be with Lucia was frustrating.

Recently I surprised myself when I realized really wanted to be a mom that stayed home. I can't though being a single parent. Saying I can't stay home isn't totally true. I could choose to live with my parents and not work. However, it would be a burden on them and it would have other consequences as well.

I know I have a choice and I'm choosing to go back to work, take some classes, and be a better mom. The quality of time I spend as a mom is important. Tonight Lucia asked me to keep tickling and playing with her. It was fifteen minutes of fun I think she'll hold as a happy memory of us.

This is my second time using iMovie and I have improved so very much. I took some more video of Lucia dancing. This time it was in a restaurant, with a small audience. This is my lovebug!\

Lucia has loved music from a very young age. She would bounce in time when she was old enough to sit up. A certain auntie taught her to shake her booty after she had just learned to walk. She will rock out in the car, but she loves dancing. Lately she's been dancing every day. Here is a short video of her and Will dancing today. Keep in mind I have no idea how to edit so this is not a quality video. I'll be working to learn to edit so I can have more video memories of Lucia's dancing.

I'd love to use this while driving...



Via CuriosityShoppeOnline.com

This weekend Lucia was doing homework. The pages she has currently have quite a bit of coloring and she gets bored after a bit. So, I offered to put on some music. Her choice? Jefferson Starship's We Built This City. If it works it's fine with me.

I've been behind on updating my blog with quotes from Lucia. Thankfully I type them into a note on my phone so I don't forget or lose them in a pile of miscellaneous papers which is my bedroom some days. I'm going to edit how I add them to my blog as well because I think about these things and stay up organizing in my head. Yes, it's exhausting to be me.

09/19/09 "Mom, the air is my soap."

09/09/09 "Don't worry about a thing, 'cause every little mom is gonna be alright."

09/06/09 Lucia: "Will, did you know my mom is cute?"

Will: "Oh, but I'm cute."


09/04/09 "Will, vampires are nice to each other."

08/30/09 Me: "Lucia, you're clapping too loud."

Lucia: "I'm just clapping the words to the song."



08/29/09 "I don't actually sleep unless I'm asleep."

08/29/09 (Zen, the dog, is enthusiastically licking her arm.) "Do you like me as a popsicle?"

07/24/09 "Me and Will made a deal that I will protect him, even if I'm not there."



07/07/09 "Mom, did you know I'm a small, rude alien? I just hafta pretend I'm a kid.

This state in which I live, Utah, is breathtaking with it's diversity of landscapes. However, the diversity of people is overwhelmingly strangled by a powerful and loud group. I call this group the High and Mighty Utah Mormon Republicans.

Mind you I know that not all Mormons, not all Republicans, and not all Mormons who vote Republican are in this group. I'm referring to a sort of collective of the most closed-minded, over-bearing, and suffocating people who sway public and private laws as they choose and defend themselves with religion or the constitution. What strikes me as ironic is that the same methods of justification they use are the ones that say we all have choices and not even the high and mighty can deny choices.

I was frustrated to learn that our school district would not be giving the school children a chance to listen to President Obama's speech to them this week. I received a letter via Lucia's principal that is from the Superintendent explaining why they made this choice, apologizing as well as stating they would show it to the children, and giving parents a chance to refuse to have their children listen to the speech. Do we really need to have a parental consent form to not listen to the President of our country? Although I do agree there should be a choice I simply wonder what is the fear. Are people afraid the President of the United States of America will brainwash their children? Is there a precedence for fear of what the office of the President would say to children? I didn't always agree with former President Bush, but I certainly did not fear him or what he would have said to children.

I think it comes down to fear of change. Once we know there is going to be change it's as if some sort of defense mechanism is switched on in our mind. Yet, we rarely like the duldrum of a routine. Do we eat the same thing every day? Do we read only one book over and over? Do we wear the same clothes every day? I feel we thrive on change, sometimes more if we believe we are in control/making the choice. At least that's one theory.

To let you make your own choice I'm going to include some of the text from the letter. The paragraph previous summarized the President's message and the one following stated when the children would be able to watch the speech as well as an opportunity for parent's to choose to not have their children participate.

"Nebo District received official word on September 2, 2009, announcing President Obama's back-to-school message to school children. The information we received said, 'The decision to watch (or not to watch) the President's speech should be made by each district. There is no requirement from the Utah State Office of Education, the U.S. Department of Education, or from the President that any student watch.' Given limited information and the timing of the announcement of the President's speech, Nebo District decided that district students would not participate in watching this speech live at school.

In hindsight, we realize that this decision may not have been the best one possible and may have sent a message to students and patrons that we do not respect the office of the President. This was never our intent. We also realize that this decision denied students, who were interested, the opportunity to participate in this live historic event. We regret that our decision had this affect.; While we cannot turn back the clock, we desire to make this opportunity available to our students."

I do agree that the notification should have been given further in advance and more of the content should have been revealed. Thankfully there are always ways to learn from a decision, good or bad. I am glad the school district is giving the children a chance to hear the speech.

Please note that this post contains opinions and feelings held by me and may not be held by others for whatever reason.

I'm emotional. Not all the time, but it's often just under the surface until something pierces my defenses. I suppose I don't have the thickest of defenses. However, I'm okay with my defenses and my emotions because I can acknowledge feelings and then accept responsibility for my choices following.

Before I get more off tangent I'm going to go back to a Friday night. Kari, Will, Lucia, and I are driving from the Covey Arts Center in Provo to Noodles & Co. when I slip into a role of pointing out things to the kids in order to keep them in a good mood and perhaps teach them about their surroundings. The road curves and I see the familiar sign for The Mending Shed. "Lucia and Will look at the wood on that building. Do you know where that wood came from?" I stop. I can't say it because the tears are welling in my eyes and I'm the driver. Kari looks over at me and steps in to explain that the wood came from their Great Great Grandpa Huntsman's farm in Idaho.

When I visited my sisters Keeley and Alex in Kanab this March I started to cry for how happy I was to have this chance to hang out in the kitchen chatting and playing with the kids or the animals talking and talking and talking. I stay up late whenever they come to visit. I tell them every new story I have- and a few they've heard before. I cry when I hug them a little longer and a little tighter and tell them I love them.

For Mother's Day Lucia gave me a card where (with a little help) she had written, "I love you!" It was so sweet and of course tears welled up. However, I accept that I'm emotional and moved to tears at times. I just might stock up on tissues though.

Lucia: Will, do you want to be big and strong to drive big trucks? Then you have to eat this hash brown.

Will: I just want to drive a police car and take all those bad guys to jail.

6:00 a.m. is a magical time, for those who are awake. I decided to stay up all night. I have been in a poor sleeping pattern and decided to break it in an unusual way. It also helped to be caught up in a TV series on Hulu.

Now to keep myself awake I decided to do some laundry, put away some toys, and generally stay busy quietly lest I wake Lucia. The most wonderful part...no pants. I know, I know, but you should try it once. My sister Alex told me when no one was home she loved to walk around the house with no pants- she still wore a shirt and underwear, just no pants. I've done it a few times out of laziness like when the pants I want to wear are in the dryer and I don't want to put on pants only to take them off in less than twenty seconds.

Nothing amazing happened. It was simply silly, fun, and liberating. I do wear pants to breakfast though so now it's time to don those magical trousers.

I want a nap.

I was awakened at night. I was awakened by hope, hope that I could smell and taste. Yet as I rushed through the night I found I was betrayed. I returned defeated having found the hope was lying in ruins after being consumed by another. Farewell beloved corn bread pudding leftovers, until you return again, farewell.

Alton Brown's Sweet Corn Bread Pudding (of dreams)