Whoosh! goes childhood.

I have had a surreal weekend. I was lucky enough to get the loft bed from my friend  for Robbie's room. He had been wanting one and in my quest to make him feel like the "big kid" he is, I snatched up the bed. It is an Ikea bed. Ikea is great, but you need a degree in astro physics to put together anything from there. After SEVERAL false starts. restarts, tear apart and realignments, we got the bed up. Then we took down all his "little kid' posters and put up flags he wanted and new posters. He got flags from Mexico, Scotland, Sweden and Ireland plus some posters of bands he likes. We went to Staples and got desks for his room. Also, Kohl's had a sale for over sized floor pillows, and I got one. So we created a room for Robbie that is very" big kid." For lack of another term. Lost are all the small child things he once had. His dinosaurs are tucked away in the closet. The very one's he would line up in a line outside of his room for protection when he was scared. He moved all the toys into the loft area. He is a 4th grader now, he informs me when I drop them off at school. He won't let me walk him to his playground, and instead says good bye in front of the car and branches off from me and AJ and goes the opposite way.. the big kid playground way. My heart hurts. This is my little red head who followed me around. This is the little guy who sat for hours in the sand box, playing with his cars.  This is the little one who would bring a chair up to the counter to watch me make him play dough. Now, he wears deodorant and has a loft bed. Where did the time go? And why did it go so fast?

However, this morning, before school there a moment. I was pouring my coffee and he put 2 waffles in the toaster, then went to do his hair.When they popped up, he was still gone so I went over and cut up the waffles in triangles and arranged them on his plate like I used to when he really was a little guy: in tee pee shapes and formation. Then I drizzled syrup around them like meandering rivers. Once upon a time, this used to make him so happy, so filled with excitement. He came out of the bathroom and looked at the plate and said "aww mama... you made tee pees and rivers for me! Thanks mama!"  And threw his arms around me. And in that moment... my heart healed. Even if just for the moment. Then in a flash, he was the big kid again.

I think I am gonna go line up Robbie's dinosaurs in a line outside my room.

Hey! What's this weird thing on my car?

I have road rage. I don't mean to, it just happens. Everyday. But I really shouldn't. It is an avoidable situation. I admit I am a fast (er) driver than most, but I don't think my driving skills are any different than others. Here is the main point in my driving that I find that many.. MANY.. others lack.

I use my mirrors.
I look in them often.

If I see, say, a LINE of people  forming in back of me I say to myself  'Why Self.. it looks like these people might be going faster than you so perhaps you should move over to the less fast lane and let them pass!" I then use said mirrors and move aside. What I find so impossible to understand is why it seems such a foreign thing for other people to do the same thing. I can not tell you how many times I have been stuck behind a slow driver going (ack!) the speed limit in the fast lane of the freeway. Daydreaming about what to eat for dinner, talking on the phone, happily looking at the scenery, none should be done from the fast lane. If you feel the need to conserve gas, avoid tickets, .. whatever.. please do it in the slow lane. If I get a ticket on my way to the next gas station, that is my business. But sitting in the lane, scooting along at a snails pace, building a long line for miles behind you is just rude. And I can't help but wonder.... who are these people in real life? Do they ever notice situations around them? Do they go to the grocery, park in the middle of the aisle as they walk away to grab an item? Do they stand at the checkout of the store and text people while a line awaits behind them? Are these the same people who balance their checkbook in the kiss and go line at the kids school? Just where did these people learn manners?? Cuz lets face it.. that's what it boils down to. Being aware of others beside yourself.  In my opinion, most problems can be solved this way. Plus it is very zen.

Mirrors: not just a shiny ornament anymore!!

Road Rage: a thing of the past if mirrors are used correctly.

Holy Hair Batman

I have curly hair. Or wavy. Or straight. I have about $500 worth of product under and over my sink to make my hair be whatever I choose it to be that day.. all while looking natural. Of course, if I let my hair air dry from the shower on any given day, it would be curly. I hate it. I have to put extra goo on it to tame it. You know how you hear stories of old men sitting on a porch and they are able to tell the upcoming weather by how their knees hurt? That's me.. but with hair. I can spend an hour in my climate controled bathroom straightening it, making it shine and look silky, then walk outside to a humid day and it acts like a spring board. Insta curls.
Today, I went for some much needed girl time with.. well.. the girls. When we gathered in the local park to eat our lunches, we were basking in the sun. My hair was straightened and blowing softly in the wind, and in my mind, I am sure looking very modelisque and elegnat. However, the sun soon went to hide behind clouds and as the day grew darker with the swollen clouds, my hair inched its way up my head. Currently, even my bangs are in a wavy motion. It is ridiculous. Why do I fight it you ask? Because its not always curly! If the weather is warm, it is limp and drab. If the weather is wet or humid, its wicked curly. If it's a "normal" California day, it borders on wavy. It's enough to make your head hurt.. the constant watching of the weather to dictate how you will wear your hair. I envy the straight haired friends of mine with their glorious long constant straight hair, regardless of the shift in weather.
Oh look! It's must be calling for rain, my hair just switched to wicked curly. I'll be on the porch with the old men....

Look! There goes childhood whooshing by!

Recently, Robbie came downstairs singing a merry little tune that I instantly recognized. I was astounded that he was singing an old song that I have heard countless times without paying attention to it, but he obviously had. It's an oldy but a goody, he came down the stairs singing an old Kenny Rogers song, Lucille. In it, there is a line that says..

"You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille, with 4 hungry children and a crop in the fields."

However, the red head came down singing a much better version...

"You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille, with 400 children and a crop in the fields" ... (snicker) The best part is when he looked at me sincerely and said "That's a lot of kids!". Precious!

It reminds me of the all the things they do that are innocent and pure, that are quickly changing. Austin used to have trouble with the sound "c" so he decided the replacement of "t" would suit him better. Years of saying "where's the blue tar? I want tandy please. I don't like take for my birthday." used to bring a smile to my face. Those days are gone now and all I hear is the latest slang coming out of their precious mouths. "My bad. That's sic. What up??" I miss the innocence and it saddens me it is robbed from them so quickly. They are in such a hurry to grow up! And that's OK for the most part. But days like today, well.. I miss my very little boys.

You really did pick a fine time to leave me Lucille....

The Army Way

Hurry up and wait.
I spent yesterday waiting. Waiting to get information on a shooting. waiting to hear what happened. Waiting to see if the people who are my extended family were OK. Waiting, waiting, waiting, Hurry and wait. It's an old army saying.. and its true to every letter. I spent many a day standing around all day waiting on a mission to be accomplished before I could start mine. It's rather ironic how it follows you everywhere.
After all that waiting, I heard from my people. Some were hurt, all were OK and alive. Waiting stopped and relief stepped in. That actual full breath and actual full release of tension you didn't know you were carrying. You know that feeling, right?
Finally, I spoke to one of my injured friends and I asked matter of factly how they were. The response still makes me smile: "Everyday above ground is a good day."
I don't pretend to know much about any other branch life but Army. I was born into it from a long line ahead of me, and made the choice to continue it in my own life. When I say I bleed green, I am fairly certain I really do! I am proud of every person who joins the armed services, its a great gift they give to their Country, but I will admit, I play favorites with the Army. They are my kind of people. They are the people who are trained to be expert shots, who can pull apart and reassemble a weapon in quick time. Who can sleep on rocks, sleep on rumbling trucks, wear the same clothes for a week straight. They sit in foxholes, march in the dark of the night, bang down doors and train in the rain. And here is the best part: in all of that, in the misery and the dank, you can still hear laughter. Hearty, happy laughter. The spirit endures. Not looking at the reasons to be mad and annoyed, but finding happiness in the moment.
"Everyday above ground is a good day"
And that's the Army way.
Hooah.

hello sun

I am a sun worshipper. This should not be a secret. I am very vocal about it. I can sit in the sun all day and it makes all the nerve ending of my body feel alive! I love the way it beats down on my back and makes me feel relaxed and calm. I consider myself a Californian, simply because I have spent the most formative years of my life here, however, my home is in Arizona. My roots are deep there. All my familia lives there and occasionally, when I cant remember what it is to take a deep cleansing breath, the desert is where I run to find who I am again. Arizona sun is a force all of its own. In the dead of summer, I jokingly call it the face of the sun, and its an accurate description. However, the sun there is plentiful. I think its why I am the sun worshipper I am. I am a desert girl at heart.

The favorite part of my sunny days is the dusk time frame. When the warm sun is heading towards the horizon and the rays beat shadows on everything it touches. In my opinion, there is no prettier time of day. I love the way the sun kisses a romantic look to peoples faces and hair. How the air starts to cool down here in my dock by the bay, how the shadows lazily stretch.

All the important parts of my life, have this exact time frame of the day as a memory. I recall my grandfather coming home from work with the sun on his back, a smile on his face because he was so happy to see me. I remember sitting under my grandmothers rose bushes, feet sunk into the mud as she went through her rows of rosebushes watering them. Playing with my cousins in the dirt, waiting on dinner... oh the cousin memories are precious. In my later years, I remember the way the Golden Gate looked as the sun hit it as I drove across it, making me fall in love with this place. Waves slapping on the rocks in Bodega Bay, the sun glistening off the water. Laughing in a car with my friends, sun visors down. In my adult life, long road marches home at this time of day. Gear filthy, boots covered in dirt, strides less lengthy than earlier in the day, body slightly limp, rifle lightly carried, but the glorious sun streaming on our bodies casting shadows, pointing the way home. Cowboys sitting on a fence line. Rushing to the hospital to give birth to my son with slanted streams of sun coming through the windows. Watching my kids play in the sandbox as young children while I read books on how to become a writer. All of these memories carry the one common denominator, the evening sun that I love to worship.

I guess you could say, I find my zen in the setting sun.

Life and its funny little changes

14 years ago, on a day not unlike today.... I was diagnosed with a deadly disease. In that small moment, from one second to the next, my life was changed forever. I suddenly became a fighter. I suddenly became less innocent. I suddenly knew real fear.
One moment, I was living a life without a care in the world. Honking at a bad driver. Yelling at screaming kids. Mad at the lady taking too long to write her check. Then the three words.... " you need chemo" changed it all.
In that moment, I started to live. I saw colors I had never seen. Morning light exploded. Dusk crept into night hood in silent colors. Screaming children became musical chimes. Watching people live their life became a past time, something I could not do, but ached for. It was like standing still in a fast forward film, where everything flew by you, people living, happy, laughing, running, and you were standing. Cemented in. Screaming inside to let me live, too weak to open my mouth.
Tomorrow, someone can look at you and tell you that everything you are, every moment you have lived is no more. In that moment, you will have to stand and join me. You will have to stand and fight. Fight for all your lost dreams. Fight for all your hopes. Fight to live a normal life. You will want to shake the people who fail to see how waking each day is precious. You will want to scream so loud that your voice can not be heard. You will want your whisper of prayers to echo throughout the heavens. In that moment you will become like me.
Life and it's funny little changes. When I became the fighter that you see now, I learned to mantra to myself it will be OK. I learned to mantra my own belief. I learned real hope. I believed if I had to go, that I would leave people smiling and strong. And in that, found strength. Found me. I lost my hair, but I found a new person. I will live every day of my life like its my very last.
And I will beg every one to do the same. To hug the ones you love and tell them why you love them. To tell your person everyday how beautiful they are in case one day your voice can't be heard. To laugh as often and as freely as you can. To eat the things that make your smile. To feel the sun on your face and savor it. To drive with the windows down. To feel your hair whip about you. To wear the Mary Jane shoes to the market. To tattoo your body in things that make you happy. To sing regardless of your voice. To write your heart onto paper. To love as fiercely as you can. To hold tight to you. To get back up after you fall and try again. To not let something as simple as fear stop you. To run to your happiness and if you can't find it, run in the direction you think its in. Stop standing still. Death is still. Life is moving forward... no matter how painful it can be.

Life and its funny little changes taught me that. Today, in spite of that fateful news, I stand before you a Survivor. I am a proud, strong Survivor of Cancer. I won. But, I keep its lessons close to my heart, and can never go back. "Don't tell me that I'm dying...cuz I don't want to know" I hope you all learn from me now..... everyday is the first of the rest of your life.

If you have...then I beg you ... now...
Run wildly.

In the direction of your dreams.

This is for for my fellow fighters, the ones who stand with me, the ones who didn't make the fight, the families who silently stand beside and watch, the friends who shave their heads and hold the basins, and the ONE that gave up her fight for me to live. I live for you June.