Tuesday, February 27, 2007


I've been thinking about the various crisis points in my life, and how my true friends have always come through for me. I'm discovering that in any transitional period, actually, this is true. Change for the better can throw people for a loop just as much as change for the "worse."

Do we really want each other's happiness? Do we really want to see each other grow to their full potential? Are we really willing to do "anything for a friend," if that "anything" requires a change in us? An adjustment? Some re-alignment? Really? Do we? Not so sure.

Been watching a whole lot of women change this past year. Sad to say, but many of them have been hurt by the friends that resented these changes. Fortunately, many of them had friends that surprised them with amazing support. Not always the ones they would have expected.

I think it's fear that keeps us from being happy and supportive of friends that are going in new directions, possibly "leaving us behind." Nobody wants to be "left," nobody wants to feel rejection. Acceptance is a primal need. So what's the thing to do?

I struggle with all of this. I want others' happiness, but not if it pisses me off. I want others' success, but not if I've tried longer/harder for the same thing. On and on and on the insanity goes. In the end, what else matters but love? Just love, period.

Monday, February 26, 2007


10. Women rock
9. Sleep is over-rated
8. Laughing is good for the body, soul and spirit
7. Crying together is better than crying alone
6. Beautiful music makes everyone feel better
5. Whatever it is you most DON'T want to write about? Write about that
4. It takes a village to raise a writer
3. Many hands make labor light
2. Slumber parties in your 40s are even more fun and sillier than in your teens
1. love.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007


During Lent we're called to either pray, fast or give alms. I love our priest. He encourages us to go big with these words, cracking them wide open and challenging ourselves.

Praying, if you ask me, and this is my blog so you kinda did, is nothing more than putting an intention out to the Universe. Meditation, quiet, singing, dancing, lots of things can be prayerful, if they serve to open your heart to love.

He makes it clear that fasting does not have to mean skipping dessert, it means abstaining from something that is not good for you, and not good for others. Gossip, anger, resentment, revenge, all things I might want to consider fasting from this season.

Giving alms can mean doing something nice for someone, big or small, but asking nothing in return, including gratitude or acknowledgement.

I'm going to work on all three areas. Not "try" to work on them, because as James Ray says, "Trying is just failing with honor - you either do something or you don't do it."

I hope I survive the shock to the system.


"Happy Lent!" Rojo chimes bright and early this morning.

"Am I going to get that stuff on my head today at Mass?"

"Am I going to go in the bathroom right when Mass is over and wash it off?"

"Will it only be on for five minutes?"

"Do I have to not say the 'A word'?"

Nobody loves ritual and routine like my son, even when it's a ritual and routine he abhors, like the sign of the cross on the forehead on Ash Wednesday. His sensory system rejects that idea on five different levels, yet he looks forward to the whole ordeal.

325 days a year you won't hear the boy say, "Alleluia!" but on Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, we start hearing about how he won't be able to say the "A word" for 40 days.

"We cannot say, 'Alleluia'?"



"I don't really get it either, go ahead and say it. Knock yourself out and say it a million times."

"No, I am not going to say, 'Alleluia', oops! I just said the A word! I am going to change the A word to ash, and not say ash for 40 days, OK?"

"Sounds great. Don't say "ash."

"Mom! You just said the A word! You are not supposed to say the A word until Easter!"

"OK, let's both not use the A word. Let's talk about something else now, OK?"

"Should we talk about if I am going to get that stuff on my head and wash it off right after Mass?"

It's going to be a long 40 days.

Monday, February 19, 2007


My God the world is small. Daily I find a link between two seemingly unrelated people or events. It's weird, kind of freaky, or super cool and exciting. You decide.

I remember being so confounded as a child hearing that God speaks to us, if only we listen. I listened! NOTHING! He was not telling me a damn thing! I couldn't get The Big Guy to give me the time of day!

Now I'm so bombarded with messages I need earplugs.

Enough is as good as a feast already! A little silence please! A break from the unrelenting messages from the Universe? Would it kill ya?

I spent a lot of years "praying" to God. My prayers looked and sounded a helluva lot like wishes. Actually, they were a perverse manifestation of my OCD. The prayers were based in superstition and fear. If I didn't pray, then the bad things the prayers were warding off, would come barreling out and knock me over, probably kill me. A risk I was not willing to take. Certainly the energy I was expending keeping the demons away, left little for the good to come in.

One day I'd had enough. Had it up to here with all that behavior and fear. I was exhausted. I needed a break. Come what may, I was going cold turkey on the vigilant praying. I couldn't keep it up. Period.

Nothing bad happened. Not the first minute, hour or day. I decided to keep stepping over the line of fear I'd drawn in the sand, and walk towards the trust I knew had to be there somewhere. God told us to trust too, didn't He? "God is love," the banner in the hallway said. What I was feeling every day of my life was not love, it was something bad, and bad just wasn't working anymore. Had nothing to lose. Already feeling bad, why not try something else? Maybe feel better? Just a little?

It worked. It works. Don't beleive me, though. It isn't important what I believe, it's important what you believe. Find your own truth, your own way, whatever path leads you to peace and love. Period.

Saturday, February 17, 2007


Just finished watching Oprah's Thursday episode that I'd taped (yes, I still have a VCR). The response to her show on "The Secret" was so overwhelming, she did a show just on the response. Rev. Michael Beckwith and James Ray were incredible. Every fan of "The Secret" that I know, was so happy Oprah was doing that show. Once Oprah puts her stamp of approval on something, it goes mainstream. I'm ready for peace, love, forgiveness, happiness, well-being, joy, etc. to go mainstream. It's time.

I know forgiveness is not something you do for the other, but for yourself, but when I watched the show tonight, I heard that with a different spin. A spin that I needed to hear. Unforgiveness is a form of self-abuse.You keep drawing that experience towards you until you forgive and let go. The situations/names may change, but the experience doesn't. Wow.

I see that with others, people that keep dating, or marrying, the same "bad guy" over and over again. Hard to see the patterns in your own life, though. Why is that? When I think about the greatest sources of pain in my life, and those that I am still trying to "tease out" after all these years, it's the ones with the greatest aversion, that remain. What I don't want. The Secret. Law of attraction. What you focus on, you attract. Period.

What do I want?

Most of us want "Harmonic Wealth". We want wealth in the five key areas of life:

1) Financial
2) Relational
3) Physical
4) Spiritual
5) Intellectual

I think I get it, get it this time. I know I want to get it. I get that much!

Thursday, February 15, 2007


"Along with the sunshine,
There's got to be a little rain sometime..."

Remember that old song? Well that could be "our" song, my husband's and mine. Except reverse it. Make that "along with the rain, there's got to be a little sunshine, sometime..."

Yea, I'd like to say my prince came along, took me away, and we have lived happily ever after. Problem is, that's not how things went down. He's an introvert, I'm an extrovert. He's a black and white thinker, I'm the "holder of grey." He's very grounded, I'm in another realm most the time. He thinks in a straight line, I think in anything but. He makes decisions that make good sense - they pencil out. I make decisions that "feel right" and can't be proven to save their lives. And so on, and so on, and so on, for 21 years.

As rocky as our road has been, we've never given up on each other. We've never stopped loving each other. We've never believed that our union was a mistake.

We went to our friendly astrologer recently. We had her do our kids' charts, then juxtapose them with ours. She said she'd never seen such a family. All of our "stories" interracted with each others'. There was nothing in any of us that wasn't significant to all of us. And the partnership between my husband and me was obvious and beautiful.

My husband and I went away for 24 hours for my birthday. When I was luxuriating in the bath, he lit a dozen candles he had MADE (made, as in melted wax and poured them into molds with wicks), then lovingly filled the room with rose petals. ROSE PETALS!

I told him I'd rather have the tough years behind us and the rose petals and candles now, than the other way around. He agreed. Perhaps we are not such opposites after all.

Monday, February 12, 2007


Living on the songs from Carly Simon's latest album, "Into White," totally OCD over it, memorized within a week every word to every song (of course over 1/2 were already familiar, but...) Originally got it because I wanted to hear her rendition of "Blackbird", which is beautiful, but now I'm all about "You are the Love of My Life."

How can the love of our life be anyone but our child, or children? Is it possible to love any other humans, the way we love our kids? What is stronger than a mother's love, anything?

Got in a big discussion over this when I went to the beach over the weekend. Can you ever love all humans, feel total equanimity towards others, the way you do your child? Someone had told one of us that the love she had for her mother and children, she could never feel for others. Never. We all vehemently disagreed. The mother/child bond is certainly special, but does that mean you could never love another like that? What about all others? Could you ever reach such a spiritual state that you say the light in others (Namaste) and greeted it? That you felt nothing but love and compassion for each and every person on the planet? Every single one? The murderers? All world leaders? No exceptions?

Although we all felt so strongly that such a thing was possible, we weren't sure we'd ever climb to that rung of the enlightenment ladder, much as we'd like to, which begs the question, is it worth striving for something you realistically may never reach? Is the strife in and of itself valuable? Would falling short of the ultimate goal while getting very, very close, not greatly benefit all the lives one comes into contact with?

I'd like to think so, with that being the case, you are all the loves of my life.


Sunday, February 11, 2007

Valentine's Day has always been my favorite holiday, and not just because it is also my birthday. I like that gift giving is optional on Valentine's Day. People love it when you do a little something, but it's totally fine not to. It's a day to celebrate love. Not enough has been made about love, if you ask me. Love. Simple word, complex feeling/power/energy/transformative little word.

I went to the beach this weekend with two women I love. We love each other. Period. We watched both "The Vagina Monologues" and "VDAY UNTIL THE VIOLENCE STOPS." I was so mistaken about what "The Vagina Monolgues" were. Here I am trying to save the world, do something about the incredible abuse women and children suffer sexually, and I had given "The Vagina Monologues" nary a nod. Now I am all things Eve Ensler.

I love how we went to the beach to celebrate my birthday, celebrate love, and ended up learning about VDAY, February 14, 2002. Over 800 cities around the world performed "The Vagina Monologues" to raise money and awareness about the violence against women. V for violence. V for vaginas. V for Valentine. One day there will be a V for victory, I'm sure of it.

My favorite quote from the VDAY movie is Eve Ensler's, "It's like people saying I'm exposing the vagina. I am exposing the vagina. 'But it's a mystery,' they say. What does that mean, mystery? It means women don't know how to give themselves pleasure, they don't know how to tell others to give them pleasure, and when they are raped they don't tell anyone about it. Let's forget mystery. Let's move along."

Let's consider taking a moment this Valentine's Day to put the intention to the Universe that women everywhere be given voice, freedom, respect and the honor they all deserve.



Wednesday, February 07, 2007

If it is not truthful and not helpful, don't say it.
If it is truthful and not helpful, don't say it.
If it is not truthful and helpful, don't say it.
If it is truthful and helpful, wait for the right time.



10. Drove around the neigborhood silently mocking all the people that
still have a Christmas wreath on their door
9. Threw out all the clothes that don't fit anymore
8. Went through photo albums to see how much I've aged since this
time last year
7. Read old letters I wrote as a child - pretending to be happy
6. Bought more Pull-Ups for the 10-year-old
5. Ate nothing but Valentine M&Ms and drank coffee all day
4. Listened to the Carpenters - thought of poor Karen starving to death
3. Made a list of every boy I've loved that didn't love me back
2. Counted grey hairs
1. Calculated my 2006 taxes

I've heard therapy is the place you go to learn it's not the parent you thought you had all the problems with, it's the other one.

Laughed the first time I heard that. How absurd! Of course it was the parent I thought it was. The chain-smoking, morose, reclusive, crazy alcoholic vs. the martyr? The victim? Easy!

Having some problems with the "victim" these days. The whole "victim" thing has grown tired. For me, not so much for her, apparently. She's still playing that role every day and twice on Sundays.

How do you allow one person's drama to play out, if you've stopped being their supporting actress? I know at 76 this dog ain't learnin' no new tricks. I get that. The only person you can change is yourself. I get that. Forgiveness is something you do for yourself, not the other person. I get that.

AND I am struggling. Strrrruuuuuuuggggggllllllliiiiiiinnnnnnggggggg. One, just ONE "I'm sorry," would really help. Never going to happen. Just one, "I made poor choices that deeply impacted you. I did not put your needs first," would be music to my ears. A song I'll never have sung to me, at least not by her.

Getting it has never been so lonely.

Sunday, February 04, 2007


10. Wake-up early and get the Sunday paper from the front porch. Grab the "TV Click", remove the cover, staple the whole thing along the left side so now it turns like a book.

9. When Rojo wakes up, listen to him ask, "Did the TV Click come? Did you staple it like a book for me??" thirty times.

8. Listen to Rojo tell you what time to wake up. Go back to whatever it was you were trying to do, and listen to him tell you, "Do not wake me up until ___________________," twenty times. Assure him each time that you won't forget to wake him up at _______________. You promise.

7. Start the toast process. While starting the toast process ohhhh and ahhhhh all over the basketball games he's found listed in the TV Click.

6. Feign interest in the basketball games, who's playing whom, what their mascot is, and on what channel they will be. Try to remember, too, you will be quizzed endlessly on this throughout the week.

5. Tell him toast is ready. Ask him to come to the table. Listen to all the reasons why he cannot come to the table because, as you can see, he is very busy reading the TV Click.

4. Watch as he grabs the TV Click with his buttery fingers and creates greasy/newsprinty hands that are just perfect for touching every surface of the house.

3. Scream, "WASH YOUR HANDS WITH SOAP!" Know that he won't do this and your screaming is pointless. Scream anyway. At least you feel you are doing something.

2. Get the cleaning products and start the process. You'll be done just in time for the next round of toast.

1. Each time he asks, "Who do you love, Mommykins?" answer, "I love you, Rojo, every day, all day long, my whole life," and mean it.

Friday, February 02, 2007


The process of fully comprehending what it means to have a special needs child is similar to the 5 stages of grief:

1) Denial
2) Anger
3) Bargaining
4) Depression
5) Acceptance

All grief stems from loss. As a parent of a special needs child, you have lost the future you mapped out for your child. You have lost the dreams you carried for when you became a parent, and the things you wanted to show and teach your child. You've lost membership in the "Typical Child" club. Your friends do not relate. You parents do not relate. Only other parents with special needs children relate, and that is the LAST club in which you wanted membership.

You move around and around in the five stages, in and out, skipping, repeating, randomly. Each stage has its up side and its down. Even after acceptance has "occured" there are days you slip back into the others. You never know what will trigger a backward slide, it's usually not a big deal in and of itself, but significant in that it startles you into the reality that your child is "different" and "different" can be great, or it can totally suck, depending on the attitude-of-the-day.

I think grief is circular, starting big at the bottom, getting smaller as it goes on/up, like a child's stacking rings. It takes a long time at first, until eventually you can zip through the 5 stages pretty quickly, and they just aren't so "big".

I'm no saint. It's nice that some feel that I am, but I'm not. Period. Special needs parents aren't special. We didn't sign up for this. We wouldn't have thought we could handle this, either, but we weren't given a choice. I hear so many people say, "I couldn't have done it," to which I must call "bullshit." None of us know what we can or cannot handle until we're faced with it. If there had been some pre-natal test to warn me all this was coming, I don't know what tough choice I would have made. I can tell you now, though, that if God said, "Here you go, I'm trading you now for a perfectly 'normal' boy," I wouldn't take that trade. No way. Wouldn't wish this parenting challenge on my worst enemy. Wouldn't trade it with my best friend.