I fear the curse of the mini me

This is long overdue but I find myself enjoying a quiet evening with a peacfully sleeping Madison next to me. Meanwhile, I enjoy the warmth of these nice dry sheets on an unusually very wet Texas July night.

This has been on my mind since the night I watched the reflection of the celebration of our nations birth in those big bright blue eyes of my baby girl.

This year we decided to do something different for the 4th of July. Our good friends David and Katie had made the trip to Texas with their daughter, Lauren. We decided at the last minute go out and watch a true American past time at the Rangers ball park.

It was a very enjoyable evening as the Rangers took a clean first place in the American League over the still active Angels who were in the middle of their game. (and were losing at the time btw) They showed the standings as the lights went out of the energetic crowd and the players took the field with their families to enjoy some 4th of July fireworks.

Just like any fireworks show, the colors danced across the sky choreographed with patriotic music. However, it was when this particular song came on, that I realized my baby was growing up and with that emotions were starting to flare:

I see trees of green........ red roses too
I see em bloom..... for me and for you
And I think to myself.... what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue..... clouds of white
Bright blessed days....dark sacred nights
And I think to myself .....what a wonderful world.

The colors of a rainbow.....so pretty ..in the sky
Are also on the faces.....of people ..going by
I see friends shaking hands.....sayin.. how do you do
Theyre really sayin......i love you.

I hear babies cry...... I watch them grow
Theyll learn much more.....than Ill never know
And I think to myself .....what a wonderful world

(instrumental break)

The colors of a rainbow.....so pretty ..in the sky
Are there on the faces.....of people ..going by
I see friends shaking hands.....sayin.. how do you do
Theyre really sayin...*spoken*(I ....love....you).

I hear babies cry...... I watch them grow
*spoken*(you know their gonna learn
A whole lot more than Ill never know)
And I think to myself .....what a wonderful world
Yes I think to myself .......what a wonderful world.

The words had barely even started to flow and Madison starts sobbing. Tears were running down her face and her little shoulders were bouncing up and down. She couldn't hardly speak when I asked her why she was crying.

Finally....her whole life flashed before my eyes and I saw a grown woman sitting next to me when she finally uttered:

"it's so beautiful"

It was at this time that I realized Madison actually had emotions. Not the "that's not fair, mommy" kind either. These are the kind of emotions you don't realize you possess until that first love breaks your heart, you lose your best friend or the moment becomes to overwhelming to do anything else but cry. That emotion that comes with a certain tone, pitch or rythym found in the music we turn to for answers and therapy.

I just pulled her into my lap, wrapped my arms around her and softly whispered in her ear...

"it IS beautiful, Madison"

Self Portrait

I wanted to share one of my most common self perceptions. Anytime I find myself frustrated with who I am (my mind is ALWAYS running) I think back to this blog I wrote a long time ago.

Enjoy!


Simply stated I am a complex person.
I wear my heart on my sleeve and hold all my personal thoughts inside.

I say whatever comes to mind about whatever is going on around me. I keep to myself that which affects me the most.

I like to be pretty and feminine, but I despise the social pressure of being a woman.

I LOVE a stilleto and the power it gives me. When I wear my football jersey I feel "sexy".

My ideal vacation is the beach, but I feel at most peace when I am camping.

I love the silence but can't stop talking when I am around people.

I'm not good at talking on the phone, but I find myself wanting to talk all of the time.

I'm an impatient procrastinator with disorganized OCD.

I'm independent but become lonely very easily.

99% of the time I find myself busy and bored. I want to be home when I am at work and anywhere else but home on the weekends.

I'm an open book with missing chapters. Life has thrown it's punches at me and I've taken them like a champ. I've grown from the mistakes I've made, the challenges I have faced and the people that have been placed in my life. I would not be the woman I am without the men that broke my heart, the hearts that I have broken and the poor souls in between that never fit into either category. I have a guarded heart of gold because of all of this.

I'd say I am just your everyday not so usual woman.

Laugh Out Loud

Does anyone actually "laugh out loud" when they use LOL in a text?

A Mother's Day Hero

I write to all you mom's out there who have a hard time accepting a day of pampering. I know it's hard to sit there and think about the dishes in the sink that need washed. The laundry that needs folded. I know it's difficult for you to watch as your husband and children do numerous chores around the house.

The very chores that you do day in and day out that earned you this well deserved day of rest.

But never fear! I am here to represent!

I'm like the night watchman on a military base surrounded by the enemy.

I never rest.

I spent my mothers day reminding myself why they need me so much. Cleaning house, doing laundry and grocery shopping.

Job security, right?

A Cliche Welcome

So I've decided to join this group because I have a writing problem. I've always been told the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.

So here I am.

I don't have any followers yet as I am still a closet blogger. I took a stab at the whole Myspace world and wrote for a few years that way but when the career life took over, my writing started to cease.

That's when the signs of addiction began. I found my mind always wondering. I always had something I wanted to say but the thoughts always came at 5:30 in the morning while I was staring at the girl in the mirror looking back at me.

To me writing is like the needle in the arm of a heroine addict.* I use because it gives me a certain high. An escape from the everyday blah of the world.

I write because I think.......


* i've never done drugs. =)