Adoption Celebration

My eyes filled with tears everytime I heard rapturous applause  today. 

Applause meant an adoption had been finalized. A child and his new parents were legally bound as a family.

There were Court Rooms set up under ramadas at the park.  A judge would sign the appropriate papers and the crowd would cheer.

My friend, Shannon, adopted her daughter, Courtney, (Maya's BFF) five years ago.  Shannon asked me and my girls to help her run game booths to celebrate these finalized adoptions.  She is the L.D.S. Family services chair person for adoption in Tucson.

One could spot a child who had been adopted by the stuffed animal she/he carried. 

My heart is full to bursting.  I can't begin to explain the joy I experienced playing with these babies today and witnessing the Love in the eyes of their new Mommies and Daddies. 

I have taken for granted that the fertility Gods have smiled upon me.  I don't know the pain so many men and women experience when they cannot concieve. 

I have also taken for granted the security of my babies.  I have always known they would be mine forever.  I have never had the pain of debating whether I would have to give a child up.  My children have never had to fear where they would sleep that night.

The adults and children I met know a depth of pain I cannot comprehend, but today was a day of celebration.  I thank God I was a witness to the completion of their families and the beginning of a Happy life together.

Paper Don't Grow On Trees

"Please make 75 copies of each of the marked pages in this book," said T-bone's teacher, who happens to be a dude in his early 30's with shoulder length hair.  (I know you automatically pictured a school marm in a thick brown cardi, so I thought I'd adjust the image in your head.  You're welcome.)

"Also, if you could cut these name tags using the cutting board it would be awesome," he said.

I went to the teacher's lounge/workroom and began my task of cutting.  I got there early enough to use the "good" cutter.  Everyone know the other one sucks and chops off random fingers.  My lucky day, I guess.

There were other moms in there and some teachers having a convo.  I didn't know them so I just eavesdropped.

"Well, I know my son's 3rd grade teacher ran out of paper already!  She has been buying paper for her class with her own money...  I'm just going to go to Costco and get some myself for the class..."

I was stunned and pissed!

DID YOU HEAR THAT???  TEACHERS ARE BUYING THEIR OWN PAPER WITH THEIR OWN MONIES!!!

Teachers aren't exactly rolling in dough, ya know.  (Hey!  dough and ya know rhyme!  FUN!)

I listened for another minute. 

I could bare it no longer.

"Teachers are buying paper THEMSELVES?!"  I piped up.

I think I startled them.  After they recovered they included me in the convo.

"Yes.  I used to teach a long time ago," said a school marm in a thick brown cardigan.  "I remember when we could just make as many copies as we wanted.  There were no computers then... *she chuckled*... But it was far less stressful for teachers.  Oh my!  I just dated myself, didn't I?"

"So how does it work?"  I asked.

"Well, teachers are given their alloted amount of paper and a code for the copy machine.  It clocks how many copies they are making."

I was SO UPSET that I accidentally made 75 copies of the WRONG PAGE!

This is the wrong page in question.  And, yes, I copied more than one.  I copied 75.  75!  During a paper shortage!  Paper don't grow on trees, ya know!

I have a friend that works in paper.  Michael Scott?  Do you know him?  He works for Dunder and Mifflin.    If you're reading this, Michael, hook my kid's school up with a sweet donation, would ya?  (He hangs out in my living room almost every night so we're pretty good friends... I think he'll contribute.)

I had to return to Mr. Long Hair and tell him I had made a mistake.

"I'll buy you some more paper," I said.

"Nah.  It's cool," he said. 

"No.  For real.  I will.  So how are you doin' on paper?" I asked.  "I just found out all about the paper allocation...".  

I felt very smart and informed.

"It's getting low.  I'm going to have to figure out a way to streamline it.  I mean, we HAVE to give the kids work!  How will we know if they are learning anything if we don't?"

I'm completely digusted!  Teachers shouldn't have to be stressing about freaking PAPER!!! Are you kidding me?!

Somebody tell me who is to blame here???  Who can I strangle?  Why is the public school system getting the shaft to this extent?

Do we not realize our children will RUN THIS COUNTRY (not to mention our nursing homes)  when they grow up?!

In other news, I am very excited that I made my very own monies with my very own sweat and blood.  I was paid yesterday and I bought this.  It's not for me. 

Maya's birthday is in a few weeks and I had no idea how to provide the pink bike with streamers she wanted.  TAA DAA! 

There's a really great dress at Anthropologie that I'm dying to own but I bought this instead 'cause that's what mommies do. 

I look really hot in that dress.  Sigh.

Bread and Eat it Too

"When it comes to appearances, we're all deeply superficial," says Psychology Today.

I read the mag tonight as I steamed a pumpkin. (Pumpkin is a weird word.  Who thought it up?  PUMP.  KIN.  PUMP-KIN.  Pumpkin.  I don't like it.  He's not kin to me.  Huh?  Moving on.)

"We're superficial not because we're brainwashed but because genetic clues to health and fitness really are skin deep.  Seemingly surface characteristics like body weight, hair, and skin are in fact critical biological markers.  That may not sound sexy.  But it means caring about looks is tactical, not tacky."

Huh.  Interesting.  It seems I'm not vain AT ALL!  I'm merely TACTICAL!  Yes!

Why, after a full day of cleaning bathrooms, kiddie homework and laundry, would I take the time to steam a freakin' pumpkin?

A)    Pumpkins slow the aging process and reverse skin damage and squash free-radicals and have lots of fiber so I don't look all fat and bloated.

B)    I was in dire need of freshly baked goodies.  (Saying the word "goodies" makes me feel mentally challenged, like I should ride the short bus.)

Do you see the problem here?  Can you appreciate the dichotomy that exists in my mind?

Fit or fat?

I want to be beautiful.  I get a sick thrill when women hate my guts because they feel inferior physically.  I work hard to maintain that level of disgust. 

I also love food.  Food makes one fat.  In THIS society the lumpy ladies are overlooked. 

"In cultures like ours, where you can't go five miles without passing a 7-Eleven and food is sold by the pallet-load..., thin women are in.  In cultures where food is scarce (like in Sahara- adjacent hoods), blubber is beautiful, and women appeal to men by stuffing themselves until they're slim like Jabba the Hut."

I wish with all my heart I felt blubber was beautiful! I wish YOU felt blubber was beautiful, Shallow Hal. I wish I could just sit on my couch and stuff my face and lick the bowl and have people sing my praises.

I throw weights around at the gym like my life depends on it.  And, in an essence, it does.  I spend money on make-up and clothes.  I deny myself the foods I love in order to enjoy a small waist, flat tummy and the evil eye from flabby female counterparts.

I eat lots of veggies and fruits when I'm craving potato chips and french onion dip.  I guess I'd rather eat loads of pumpkin products than put my face under the knife or inject fillers into my forehead.

Folks that aren't honest about how society works scream,  It's what's on the inside that counts!

 

Yeah.  Ok.  But I'd rather be pretty for as long as I can.  I can't even SEE my insides, which are probably pickled because I drink Diet Coke and what's even IN that stuff?  Probably pickling agents...  I don't care.  It's calorie free.

Tonight I've decided to eat the Pump-Kin bread I made, which is beyond delicious, by the way.  Tomorrow I will punish myself by running several miles and berate myself internally for being such a pig the night before. 

Healthy.

I will have my bread and eat it too. 

PS  I also made banana bread.  Bananas are high in potassium and remind me of nothing...



I Made Love

I've prayed for Love to fill my every cell.  I've prayed to have the Spirit of Christ expand my awareness and help me to reach a higher level of spirituality.

Once God decides to give you the light and knowledge you have asked for... you're in trouble!

He will hold you to it.

I prayed to be filled with Love no matter what the external circumstances. 

Tonight I completed my sewing project.  I have spent many nights in the last couple weeks behind the machine.

I discovered something unnerving.  Here it is:

When I am happy and progressing well in the project, I feel joy.  I feel peace and the kind of joy that can only be described in terms of light.  All goes well with my project.  The angels guide my needle and thread properly.

When I find myself angry or inscenced or ungrateful everything goes wrong.  Needles break.  Zippers are sewn on backwards, and fabric is cut wrong.

I have to take a step back and breathe.

"I'm sorry." I whisper.  "I'm sorry I was upset.  Please fill me with The Spirit of Love so I can accomplish this task."

When my heart is in the right place all goes well.  

Looking upon my finished product I realized I had made Love.  I Made Love here.

The comforter I constructed from raw materials reminds me of us.  The sum of the it's parts pale in comparison to the worth of the finished product.

We are connected in Love.  Without love we would all cease to be.  And when all is stripped away from our frustrated selves there is only Love.

The comforter is us. My prayer has been answered and I've been given the knowledge deep in my soul we are connected.  We are connected in Love. 

You are one bolt of fabric and I am another and that chick down the street is the thread.  We need everyone to contribute.  Upon completion we see the possibilities.

I don't want you to just read these words.  I hope that you meditate upon them and pray in a quiet place and find The Love that is in us.

I made love when I made this comforter.  A married couple I don't know will dream beneath it.  They will experience the tangle of bodies necesssary for phsysical gratification but it is my prayer they experience the enmeshed souls that fly above reality as Love takes hold.

What a beautiful opportunity I have been given in sewing such a special article.  In the future I will sew blankets for people who will fall in love and fill the bed with heated passion.  I will sew for mommies cuddling a newborn.  I will create comfort for retired couples who are content to hold hands and chat beneath the warmth.

God has given me Love like I have never had it before.  With that love comes great responsibilty to those around me.  It seems I can't gossip about anyone who has gossiped about me.  I become ill.  I can't tell a bold faced lie anymore.  I become weak and sick.  I have been raised to a higher degree of accountability.

Love has become my kryptonite.

Look What I Can Do!

I'm like Stewert. In this clip he even has a pistol and is wearing boots and eats Oreos by the handful. (You don't have to watch the whole thing.  It's long.)

Hey everybody! Look what I can do!!!




MY TURN! MY TURN! LOOK WHAT I CAN DO!

I never in a million years thought I'd be sewing for money. I always sewed because I wanted my home to be fancy and custom and unique and snooty and snotty.

NOW, however, I have learned a little something called HUMILITY.

I tie scraps of fabric on my head to look the part of a down trodden Cinderella.  I don't even have on any make-up!  I know, right!? 

I burn the hell outta my fingers with a hot iron.  And after a long day of cooking and cleaning for my family (last night I made fresh chicken soup for dinner) I sew until I think I'm going blind.

Last night I thought I would be completely done with the white linen project but come morning I realized I had begun to sew like a drunk.  Very swervy and curvy.

It's ok.  I'll fix it tonight and hand it over to my client tomorrow.  I feel like I've given birth and must surrender my child to a stranger. 

They will never know their fancy linen has my blood literally sewn into the seams from all the pin stabs. I will be with them in spirit, which is not at all creepy.

TAAA DA!!!!

I've decided I'm doing this.  Ya want fancy schmancy bedding and drapes with my blood sewn into the inner recesses of your duvet cover?  I'm yur gal.

Hook me up with a picture and fabric (or just a picture) and CASH MONEY.  I'll be your personal Cinderella. 

Howz THAT for humbling?

Look what I can do.

Big Balls

"I'm so sorry.  I don't want to be that person.  I know I say things I shouldn't. I get upset. I'm passionate.  I'm just sorry."

I had been told by a friend that "Jenny" (not her real name)  had been saying hurtful things about me behind my back.  I was wounded, of course.

Animosity and bad blood always breed discomort and pain for all parties involved.

Jenny came to my home and sat in my living room in full view of both of our husbands and apologized profusely and sincerely.

Of course I was very gracious and responded with,

"Wow, Jenny!  I'm so impressed you would do this!  You have really big balls."

She seemed a bit uncomfortable with the "big balls" compliment.   She is, of course, a conservative Mormon mom.  I doubt anyone has ever valued her for the size of her balls before...  You're Welcome, Jenny!

She continued to apologize for half an hour.

"I'm sorry if I attacked you [on a different occasion].  I realize how mellow you are in these situations.  I'm so sorry.  I like you.  I respect you.  I want us to be friends."

I have been touched by her display of True Love since it happened.  I had no idea she was capable of such humility and inner strength.  She has inspired me.

I have done a lot of complaining about the gossipy, small-mindedness of some women in The Burbs where I live.  I have been chastened.  I'm super happy about it!  HAPPY! HAPPY! HAPPY!

I'M A LOVER NOT A FIGHTER,YA'LL!

The night after The Apology I found myself at the church Halloween Party.  Jenny and I sat at the same table and laughed and joked.  It was wonderful and liberating. 

I hyjacked her baby for the remainder of the night.  Both to give her a break and to satisfy my ever growing baby hunger.

I have begun to think of all the times I have done and said things to offend others, perhaps without intent. 

Inspired by Jenny, I'd like to be Earl from that show My Name is Earl.  I'd like to write a list of people I have harmed and rectify my wrongs.

I'd also like to know what YOU have done to offend others and how you have repented or how you plan to repent.  Please entertain me.  I wanna know how truly offensive you can be. :)

Jenny is an amazing person.  I'm grateful she considers me a friend and Loves enough to want peace for us both.