Tuesday, August 31, 2010

4th Grade...

I remember the 4th grade. I remember it well. I had "Mrs. C" (I will abbreviate her name to protect her identity) of whom I was not a huge fan, and whom happened herself to be a HUGE fan of homework. In fact, that was the reputation that preceeded Mrs. C in our tiny little private school. She was known for the amount of homework she issued. That's a pretty big deal to a 4th grader... it cuts into your play time outside when you get home, TV at night. We had homework every day in the 4th grade, sometimes in multiple subjects. I have vivid memories of sitting down at the coffee table in our den in the afternoon when I got home from school and working on my homework. Vocabulary words, spelling words, Alabama History, math. Seems like once a week we had to draw something, and I hated to draw. Had zero artistic ability when it came to drawing - still have none - and I absolutely hated the fact that Mrs. C would display our things on the wall.

Anywho - I am getting to a point here, I promise.

David is in the 4th grade. He has struggled since 2nd grade with his organization and forgetfulness. This is something I understand well as he clearly gets these two problems from me - I still struggle with organization and forgetfulness today. But I have always been responsible. Always. I always made sure my assignments were done in school, have always paid my bills on time (as long as I had the money to do so... ), have always done what I said I would do. From an early age, I took charge of my own responsibilities - whether it be homework or studying for a test or completing a project. So this is why I have a hard time understanding my son's lack of responsibility.

Yesterday, I checked David's agenda. This agenda is an overpriced calendar with room to write daily assignments. Back when I was his age, we had a little pocket-sized notepad. We wrote the date at the top of the page and the assignments for the day. Now, we parents have to pay $12 for a spiral bound book notebook sized calendar for our student to keep track of their assignments, events and tests. Problem in this household is that David sometimes writes in his, sometimes does not. Yesterday, he miraculously decided to write in his that he had a history test today. It said, "Study for history test."

Did David bring anything home to look over? NO.

Here's the conversation that followed with David...

"So, you have a history test tomorrow?"

"Yeah..."

"Did you bring home your information to study it?"

"No, I did it at school."

"You studied at school?"

"Uh huh."

"So you already knew it all before you left school? That's great!! I guess I can expect you to make 100 on the test then!!"

That was just one of many conversations he had to endure about how he should have brought his stuff home to study, about how he's getting older and things will start to change with school and more will be required, about how I expect him to take school seriously and do well and give his best effort.

David has sort of breezed through school so far. He's sharp, but not necessarily smart. He's had a good run of teachers who adore him and have considered him such a delight that he hasn't been pushed to be better. All that is about to some to a halt as more will be expected of him academically. Just because you are charming and witty and have good manners doesn't mean you will do well on your history vocabulary test.

The funniest part of the day was when Scott went back up to David's room around 9:00 last night to make sure his light was off. David was sitting up in his bed with his dictionary trying to find the definition of "political map." It wasn't in the dictionary, and I honestly couldn't remember what it meant. But I did tell him to look over the words when he got to school today.

I guess growing up is hard. But it will be even harder for David if he doesn't do well on this test today...

Monday, August 30, 2010

Little Person...

I've always tried to think of my children as little people. They each have thoughts, likes, dislikes, dreams, needs, and desires of their own separate and apart from mine for them. The older they get and more vocal they become, the more difficult it becomes to give them what they want. This school year with David riding the bus, he has become better friends with some of the boys in our neighborhood. Our house is the second house as soon as you turn into the neighborhood, so we don't come in contact with many kids on a regular basis. But now, David wants to constantly go here and there and everywhere. He comes in a calls his friends and is either over there or they are over here. It's weird, and I must admit, it has taken me off guard. I was accustomed to David and Madalyn playing with the next-door-neighbor or the little boy a couple of houses down. But this sudden desire for my son to be anywhere but home is hitting me hard.

It's nerve racking. He wants to ride his scooter or bike all the way to the back of the neighborhood, and it's hard to let go. It's hard for him to ride off not knowing exactly what he's doing or if he's okay. It's hard to let him go to the houses of friends whose parents I don't know that well. It's just plain hard all the way around... and don't even get me started about how Madalyn freaks out when he leaves. It's just created all this tension and weirdness at the house. Take for instance today. It's been raining off and on all day, and David still wants to go off on his bike. I said no. So now he's mad at me, and claims that being here at home is boring.

I know it's all just a part of life. I know he's getting older and wanting to expand his horizons. But life seemed a little easier when he was happy to be here in the safety of his home with me where I can monitor what he's doing. Not wandering about the neighborhood, going into the homes of other people, hanging out and socializing on the sidewalk with other boys without any supervision.

What's a Mama to do??? Pray. I guess that's all I can really do.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Insecurity...

Yesterday, I visited my local Books-a-Million. I was trying to find a book to give someone, and so I searched high and low in the area of interest and didn't find what I was looking for. No biggie - I'll have to try a Christian book store to find the perfect fit. While I was there, I did pick up a book that I had seen online and almost ordered about a month ago. It is The Power of a Praying Wife by Stormie Omartian. After reading the first two chapters yesterday afternoon, I am convinced I will learn so much from her words and feel certain that the prayer skills she talks about will carry through to other areas of my life as well. Prayer is not something I've ever really been taught about. I've read the scriptures in the Bible about asking and receiving, but I have never truly learned how to approach God's throne with a pure heart and ask for legitimate things. I look forward to seeing the change this will bring about in my relationship with God, and of course with my dear husband as well.

Anywho - as I perused the aisles, I began thinking about each spine I saw. Each with its own title and author. Each containing the words of someone who labored and toiled and dreamed and imagined for hours upon hours. And I began to think of how many stories that needed to be told were lost among the piles of formula written romance, self-help fads, and cookbooks. I wondered how many of those books truly contained a message for the reader. I wondered how many of their authors had prayed over the words they had written and asked for divine intervention in telling their story. I am sure there are some, but not many. And then I got that feeling that I get a lot... that one in the pit of my stomach... that one that tells me I am foolish to even try... that one that tells me not to expose myself, even through a fictional character... the one that would rather have me go find a part-time job or just stick to blogging....

Insecurity. Oh how it plagues my mind! There were so many books in that one store that it overwhelmed me. It made me realize how many people there are that are out there that believe their story has merit and deserves its rightful place on the shelf. I am insecure about the journey it takes to take your words from brain to page to agent to publisher. I am terrified of the spiritual journey I must take along with my main character in order to finish my novel. I am purely scared of the whole darn thing. But I have this urge within me to write it... keep on writing it, even past the fifth chapter where I get into the depth of her secrets and issues. I wrote chapter five and literally felt sick all day. Just uneasy. Reliving things from my own life, rewriting them as fiction in an effort to share the message, well, it's painful. But it's hopefully gonna all be worth it... if for no one else but myself. And I hope it can touch another person along the way...

So, today I pray for the courage to keep on writing it... even though the insecurity sometimes seems bigger than the dream.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Dear red Craftsman self-propelled lawn mower,

I feel I owe you an apology of some sort. I have to admit that I've put you through a lot in the last three years, but you've been patient while I have learned the art of mowing the lawn. You've been ever diligent in giving me beautiful, precise rows of green. Sure, we've had our ups and downs... you lost that wheel about 18 months ago - the whole darn thing just popped up and your bearings spilled in the grass. I had no idea what the little silver balls were, but I soon found out. And then there was that bolt that keeps your arm on that fell out twice before we realized the hole was stripped out, so it had to be JB-welded back into place.

And yesterday - I'm still trying to figure out what happened yesterday. Somehow your little "tire" came off without the bearings spilling or any nuts or bolts coming out. Just so you know, I don't typically reach for a wrench on an average day. As a matter of fact, the only two occasions that I've used a wrench involve you, Big Red. But yesterday, I turned you delicately on your side and tried my best to determine how to get your tire back in its proper place and working efficiently. It only took me about twenty minutes, and I am pretty sure it wasn't really done the right way. But the wheel could turn freely, and I thought it could at least allow me to finish the yard.

I didn't realize how grumpy you might be after such an experience. Perhaps you just didn't feel up to cranking again last night, but it would be most appreciated if you would crank for me today. Please. I would love to finish the front yard as it looks a little strange to only have one little tiny portion of the yard cut and the rest not. But more importantly, I really don't want to have to buy a new mower right now. We've had a good run, me and you... I've learned the ropes with you... I'm quite attached. I know just how to crank you, how to empty your bag when it's full (though it's a bit of a pain and maybe not the best design for me), I feel comfortable with you. Most of all, I really don't want to have to pay to have you replaced.

So, I am sorry for all the tough times. For all the times I've cursed you and taken you for granted. For all the times I ran you into the fence or scraped your blade on the cement of the sidewalk or driveway. Please forgive me, and please crank today. Pretty please.

Thanks so much~
Crazy Mama

By the way, I believe writing an entire blog post to my lawn mower just might confirm my title of Crazy......

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

It's not that I haven't been blogging...

Trust me; I've written two or three posts and the immediately deleted them. I've had a lot to say lately, but when I remind myself that other people will actually read the thoughts, I have quickly deleted them. I've been in a weird frame of mind here lately...

There's a lot going on. There's my mom and the fact that we did not get the news we wanted to hear so desperately. I'm not mad a God. I do question Him - why in the world couldn't you just make it all go away??? But I have to remind myself that the world still spins... even though our Creator is perfect in every way, including His enveloping love for me, the world is not. Nor will it ever be. Things go wrong. Even to good people. And that's the only time we really question anything, right? I mean, if a drug addict dies of an overdose, we don't question it... we say that we've expected it all along. But it's the good people struggling with their health that makes us wonder why things can't work perfectly here on earth. I have to remind myself that we were never promised perfection on earth, just restoration in heaven.

So, I get a little blue when I think about my mom and how her first treatment plan wasn't perfect for her cancer and that it didn't work perfectly to rid her body of all the negative cells. And, today, after a few days of mulling it over, I realize there is no perfect here on this beyond imperfect earth. And I know that it hurts my mother's Father in Heaven just as much as it does me. I know He wipes all of our tears and understands each hurt. But the little brat deep down inside still wants to scream every now and again - throw a little tantrum in true five-year-old little girl style, "BUT YOU SHOULD HAVE MADE IT ALL GO AWAY!!!!!!!" See... that's the kind of posts I had to delete... and I wonder where my beloved five-year-old inherits her ability to pitch the most fantastic tantrums (hmmmmm.... I do still have it in me!!).

We've also had all this weird, bothersome stuff going on with our baseball team. We've had two players quit. We've had gossip and drama and ridiculousness. And, to be honest, I just can't deal with that sort of crap right now. What I am going through with my mom just makes everything else look so stupid. I am continued to be reminded of how immature some adults are - how they subsequently are raising their children to be the same as them. And the cycle lives on...

Other than that, I've been writing a little. I've been working out and starting to run again. The running thing has been quite therapeutic (except for the pain it renders) in that I am able to expel some of this tense, nervous energy inside of me. And I will run the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure 5K in October. Even if one of my legs (specifically the left one that gives me such fits) falls off, I will run it. Or, in the event it really does fall off, I guess I would have to drag myself over the line.

I am also reminding myself of the purpose behind what I am writing. Why do I love the book of Isaiah so much? I mean, it has to be the most beautiful thing I have ever read. There are so many promises. And I know he's not talking directly to me, but so much of the book speaks to "you." So, I'll close with a scripture that touches my heart more and more every time I read it...

Arise, shine, for your light has come,
and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.
See, darkness covers the earth
and thick darkness is over the peoples,
but the Lord rises upon you,
and his glory appears over you.
Nations will come to your light,
and kings to the brightness of your dawn. Isaiah 60:1-3

I guess it's one of my favorites because I am ready to arise, to shine... to embrace what God has in store for me...

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

My open prayer...

Dear Lord,

I know you know my heart. You know the deepest parts of me - good and bad. You know my imperfections and my strengths. You know my needs, my desires, my dreams. You know my hurts, happiness, successes. You know about my Mama. You know her body in and out. You know all the spots of cancer - their size, molecular structure, and the damage they will cause. You know the days of her life down to the very millisecond. You know the number of hairs on her precious head even if she loses some in the shower. Please, Lord... please tell us something. Please tell us tomorrow exactly what we are looking at - good or bad. Please let me know... I need so desperately to know. I want to know where it is, every stinking place. I want to know if she's on the right track, or if she needs to try something different. I just need something... I need some answers.

Lord, with this crazy thing called cancer, it's hard for us to understand exactly what's going on and why. I know I'll never understand the why, but will you please give me all of the what tomorrow. Lay it all out in the open for me. Hold nothing back. If there's nothing there, let there be nothing there. If there's still cancer there, please reveal it all to us. If you see fit, place your holy hands over her body now and wipe it all away. I believe that you can do it if that's what you see fit. I believe. Please see fit...

Your daughter,
Crazy Mama

Monday, August 16, 2010

Tips for the Gracious Southern Host

We are quite the entertainers. Since the very beginning of our marriage, we've always had people in our home. It began in our little one bedroom apartment, continued to our first house - a small garden home in Montgomery - and lives on today. During football season, our house is the place to be to watch the game or all the games on Saturday night. During the summer, the pool is full of kids and toys and grass clippings. In the Spring and Winter, there are still plenty of excuses to have a group over to grill and play in the yard.

Over the years, I've learned a lot about entertaining. Yesterday I tried out a new strategy, and it left me thinking that I should write a post about entertaining - Blair style. Not necessarily the same tips you might find in Southern Living, but they are no doubt useful to average ordinary Southern entertainer.

Disposable items are a must. Anything that comes in disposable form must be purchased for your event. This includes, but may not be limited to, plates, cups, forks, spoons. Last fall, I was introduced to the crock pot liner. Who in the world thought of this product, I couldn't say. But they are no less of a genius than Albert Einstein. I mean, who enjoys scrubbing the remnants of Velveeta cheese dip out of their crock pot after a long Saturday of football? Not me. Even if you soak the pot all night in hot soapy water (which is usually my fave thing to do) there's always that burnt crusty part at the top that is difficult to remove. I just think the secret to enjoying having people over is to be able to throw nearly everything away when they leave and reducing your clean-up time by nearly half.

Stock up on toilet paper. This is one thing that amazes me about having people over - the significant use of toilet paper. On a typical day of swimming, we'll go through nearly two rolls in our down stairs bathroom. One of my worst fears (not only for entertaining but just everyday life) is running out of TP. Who wants to be the sitting there left wondering what to do? A gracious host always has extras under the cabinet. I like to take a roll and put it on the back of the toilet just so no one even has to reach for it. That's just how gracious I am.

Always scoop dog poop prior to guest arrival. This was something discussed just yesterday at our home after several guests arrived. I turned to Scott and said, "Did you scoop the poop?" Neither one of us had done it yet, but that's just one of those little touches that shows your guests how much you care about them and their children that are running barefoot through the yard. Who wants to step in a Buddy Bomb in the grass??? No me. Not a six-year-old little girl. Not a 38 year old man. Just sayin' - it always helps to remove all dog poopie from your yard before the guests get there. Southern etiquette does not permit the scooping of poop in front of guests.

Lock your little girl's room - especially if you've just spent hours cleaning and reorganizing a only matter of days ago. I tried this for the first time yesterday, and I must admit, it made all the difference in the world. There's nothing worse than four little girls sneaking off to your child's room to play. Because when four little girls decide to play, they consequently pull out every play dress, article of clothing, baby doll, makeup, legos, crayons, etc, etc, and so on. Many a late afternoon, I've walked up to Madalyn's room to check on the girls and found what appeared to be the remnants of a tropical storm in the floor. Literally like a work of nature had come through and left a trail of devastation. Unbelievable what little girls can do when left unattended. So, yesterday, amidst screaming anger from my daughter, I locked the door so that no girls could enter. When all my guests left, I unlocked the door and actually smiled. I must admit, though I knew the door was locked, I was still expecting to see it in disarray. That one act alone saved me a good 45 minutes of cleanup time.

You know, there's no fine china around here. No crystal. Heck - there's rarely a real plate or glass in use around here. But we know how to put on a good time. Our shindigs won't make the pages of Southern Living, but I think they are memorable none the less. And any time you're in the area, feel free to stop by. Just watch your step in the back yard in case we've forgotten to scoop, and please throw your plate and fork in the big blue trash can when you're done eating. Thanks!

Thursday, August 12, 2010

A Post for Myself

I am basically writing the following post for myself. I have some definitive goals in my mind, but I find that ones I organize well enough to type out stand a better chance of being achieved.

As I said yesterday, the kids are at school, and I am alone. I certainly love to be alone. When my kids went to visit their grandparents this summer for a day and night, I spent entire days completely alone and never went anywhere. If you ask me what an ideal day is, in my book, it's a day to myself. Call me weird, but I like it. Now, more than a day, no thank you! I'd go crazy. But having a day to think, clean, read my Bible, pray, blog, write - well, I think that's beyond fantastic.

So, my obvious first goal for the school year is writing. As I stated before, I have started my first novel. Who knows why I am writing it. Mainly for myself, I think. It's a place I can go and release some things I've carried in my heart for so long but under complete anonymity of a character. It's a good opportunity for me to find out if I can create a character, form a plot line, carry it throughout the length of a novel, create drama and conflict, and keep a reader interested. Who knows what will happen, but I will finish the novel within this school year. And when I am all finished, I will decide what to do with it.

Also in terms of writing come the contests I am entering. All the contests have cash prizes for first, second, and third places. The first place stories or pieces might be published in literary magazine. But there are two contests that will put up your submitted work before a committee of writers' agents for consideration of representation if you are in the top ten of submissions. My goal is to fall in that ten of one of those. And I would love to take first place in one of the eight or so contests I have chosen to enter. This is the only one of my goals that I truly have no control over the outcome. I can write my best and do what I do, but I can't control how well other people write or if my piece is liked or accepted by its reader. I just know there is a niche out there for me, and I am ready to get my name out there.

I also have the strong desire to get myself back into shape. I feel awful here lately. I have this extra ten on top of the other ten I wanted to lose. It seems like every fall I do the same thing - diet. But this fall, I want to really get back into exercising and working my muscles. So this morning I began moving my body again. I walked and ran a little for a total of three miles. And I sweat like a field hand in the blazing July sun. Then I did some leg work with my stability ball. These are the things I used to do several times a week, and I have just completely stopped all physical activity in the past year. The whole time I was working on my legs, I kept thinking, "Oh, wow. No wonder I was skinnier back then." I know tomorrow I will hurt in places I haven't hurt in years, but I am ready to feel better. I am ready to have more energy. And my goal is to drop this extra 20 - 25 pounds I have on my frame. And if that wouldn't make me feel better, then I just don't know what would.

My last goal is one I've been working on for nine years now - reading the entire Word of God. I have read the New Testament, and I have read probably half of the Old Testament. And now it's time to finish it all! I want to read the parts I haven't read yet. I want to be able to say that I have read the whole thing. I wished I had started at the beginning and read all the way through, but that would be entirely too predictable for me. I want to know what God considered important to carry throughout generation to generation. I just read Jonah this morning (thanks to my friend Erika for mentioning in her blog post a couple of weeks ago!) and it was very thought-provoking. I used to wonder why even bother with the Old Testament and think it was not applicable to modern life. But the more I read, the more I discover that there is always a lesson to be gleamed from the Word of God. Always. And I want to take it all in.

Okay - so as you can see, I've got big plans. Big plans for me! And if I can manage to get all this done in between checking my emails, cleaning my toilets, and looking at strangers' pictures on Facebook, well, I'll be one happy stay-at-home mom!!!

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Today is the first day of the rest of your life...

.... or for me, tomorrow will be the first day of the rest of my life. It's the end of one era, the beginning of another. I have spent the bulk of the last nine years being a mom. All the time. In the morning, I was a mom who fixed the waffles and multiple juice and milk cups and wiped the sleepy from their eyes. At mid-day, I was the mom who fixed the lunch and picked up the trash from the morning snack and wiped the faces and checked the clock thought to myself, "Is it really only 11:49?????" In the afternoon, I was the mom who would attempt to get the wound-up toddler to lay down for a rest or read a book and pick up a multitude of toys scattered and strewn about the floor. I was the mom who usually showered or bathed in the afternoon. Tomorrow I will be the mom that sends both of my children off for another person to teach them and protect them for the bulk of the day. I will be a mom of two school goers.

Maybe some of you have the wrong impression of Crazy Mama. I gripe and complain about my kids. They get on my nerves. They don't flush the toilet as often as they should. They don't always (well, they seldom) throw their trash in the trash can. The talk too much and say the word Mama way too often. They scream at each other (and sometimes I scream at them) and they slam doors and generally make a ton of racket. But I love them. Love them dearly. They are mine. I'd do anything in the world for them. Anything. I'd give anything in the world up for them to have a better life. Anything in this world. Even my own plate of food, and if you know me then you know how much of a sacrifice that would be.

Will I be sad tomorrow? Absolutely. A lot sad? No. I am excited for them - to spread their little baby wings and learn to go out there on their own. Lord knows I can't teach them what they need to know - they think I'm an idiot most of the time! But I am also excited for me.

It's hard for a mom to admit she's excited about her life when her kids have been her life for nine years. Very hard. But I have some goals for myself - some things I want to accomplish - this school year. And I am so excited to see what's out there for me. What can I do with my brain? And I am so very thankful that the car business has come back enough for me to continue to be at home, and even more thankful for a husband who works his fingers to the bone to provide for his family. (Thank you, Scott!) I just can't help but smile when I think about the year ahead of me. Just can't help but think there's so much out there for me to do, for me to try.

I have found several writing contests to enter. I have already been working on a couple of pieces and coming up with ideas. I will mail my first entry off tomorrow. I also want to get back into shape - this summer has certainly left its impact on my hips! Yes, I will miss my children, but I look forward to the opportunity to get to know myself a little better while they aren't here. And, you know, to take a bath without company...

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Oh, Summer... where have you gone????

Time is flying faster and faster as the years roll by. The phenomena my parents warned me about in my youth has set in, and I am feeling older and older by the minute. This school year is the first that both my kids will be in the public school system. A kindergartner and a 4th grader. Just doesn't seem right.

Yesterday morning we went to meet Madalyn's teacher. We are fortunate to already know her well; she was David's teacher in kindergarten! I am so excited to have her again. She won me over at the parent meeting four years ago when she advised all the parents that God had called her to be a kindergarten teacher. Her boldness to pronounce it as her calling as well as her obvious love for the children made my heart swell. She is an amazing teacher, and I have been praying that she can open Madalyn's mind up to learning.

Madalyn is very excited about school, far more than her brother was when he started. David was excited, but he was (and still is) more of the nervous type (just like his mama). But Madalyn has grown up taking David to school and going inside to eat lunch and attend parties or functions. So she already feels comfortable in the building. With David, that was our fear - the building, the large number of children, the uncertainty of an unfamiliar place. But with Madalyn, my fears surround the fact that she still doesn't recognize half of the alphabet or numbers. She is so behind where David was intellectually at this age that I fear she will lag behind. But I think I forget that what she knows is quite average for her age. I don't worry about her capability to pick things up, I just hope she doesn't start out behind.

We also went to David's new school yesterday and met his teacher. We've been at our sweet little elementary school for four years now, and now we move over to the intermediate school to merge with the kids from the other elementary school for 4th and 5th grade. Let me say it is HUGE. It's a maze of hallways, a new section of the building and an older section. It was so strange. I feel like he's leaving the safety of the elementary school right beside my house and going out into the wolves. His teacher seems very nice, and I've been told she is one that everyone raves about.

I was incredibly disappointed to see that little Miss T is in David's class again this year. This is the young girl who calls and leaves messages for my son that I believe are not appropriate for their age. I saw her eyes widen with excitement when she saw David, and she looked at her mom and said, "Oh, his hair has gotten so long..." Gheeze. Do not fear: Meddling Crazy Mama will be sending the teacher an email advising her of the situation and requesting that she attempt to keep them as far away from each other as possible! I have already warned David not to let "that little girl distract you from your school work." Of course, David is incredibly irritated with me when I say these things, but I continue to tell him that he will understand how I feel one day.

David claims he will ride the bus this year. I knew he would be riding it home as it would just be too difficult to try to be two places at one time at dismissal time. But he claims he wants to give it a try in the morning, too. We met the bus driver yesterday, and she seems like such a sweet lady. She told David she would pick him up right in front of the house at 7:05. So, we'll see - we'll see if he can pull off getting up that early and getting out the door on time!!! We'll see if I can pull it off!!!! Life is about to change for me BIG TIME! Getting one out the door for school is not such a big deal, but two.... and the second one is Madalyn.....

Oh, dear me......

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Do you ever have those nights that are so full of dreams that it seems you didn't get a single second of sleep???? I've had several of those lately, but last night was the worst. As if the minute I close my eyes this world awakens and keeps my brain from resting.

Last night, my dream began with me heading to a therapy session. Anyone who has ever been to therapy knows it's quite a draining experience in and of itself. I mean, you think you want to think and talk about yourself without interruption or feelings of guilt until you actually do it for a whole hour. And then you just need a break - from yourself. So I get to this place, and I am waiting in the waiting room which is full of people. As I am waiting, I discover that there are serial killers and other awful criminals around me waiting too. Then my husband shows up to join my session unexpectedly and has to fill out all kinds of paper work. Then something else happens (fuzzy part of the dream) and I end up roaming the streets of this town for what seemed like the duration of my sleep cycle.

At some point in the dream, some sort of evil force is trying to take over the town. My kids show up adding another element for me to fret over while I should be sawing logs (not literally, mind you, but figuratively). People are everywhere - walking through the streets and trying to get away from something. I end up on the interstate with my kids - walking, of course. There were no cars around at all, but rather masses of people walking. Somehow I end up in some building with all these stairs, and I am climbing and climbing these flights of stairs with both my kids, trying to keep the three of us together.

Gosh... I am exhausted recounting it here.

I don't know what the heck dreams mean or if they mean anything at all. Sometimes I like to think that dreams are a message from your subconscious to your conscious self. Sometimes I would like to think that it's a way for you spirit to speak to your earthly self. On mornings like these after such a weird crazy dream, I'd like to think they don't mean anything at all. Because if they do mean something, it must mean that I'm a crazy mess...

I have been dreaming more wildly and vividly since I've been writing more. And I guess that makes sense -I am opening up a part of my brain that has been relatively closed for quite some time. But it sure would be nice if I could close the door to that world when I lay down at night so I could get a little quality rest. Just sayin'.