Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Six Kids, Six Schools

Today, I have six children in six different school systems. One in primary school, one in elementary school, one in middle school, one in high school, one in community college, and one in University. How am I ever to keep up with it all? I stand outside my life, looking in, and think, "Is she insane?" She laughs a lot, that has to be good....

What I really know is this....money could give me big houses and fast cars, beautiful dresses, and diamond rings. Fame could give me a name in lights and millions of adoring fans. I could have gone to school and gotten a degree, had a career as a high-flying executive. I could have raised horses, joined the peace corp, or run away to live in the East. Instead, I settled home, found a man I loved to share my life, and began having children. Six of them, 3 boys, and 3 girls. I am so proud, I can hardly see straight and I love them so much, it makes me cry. They are the work and art of my life. I can't imagine any existence more rewarding or full of greater joy. With tiny toes, and smacking lips, with late night cries, and teen-aged arguments, they have given me the thing I value most--the chance to be something truly wonderful...a mother. There is no love like that I feel when merely looking at their faces.

I love you, kids. Thank you for coming into my life and letting me be your Mom.

And if you think I'm going to be able to make it to all of your conferences....well...I'm not saying I won't try.

Cheers to all you Mom's out there!
Love,
La

Thursday, August 21, 2008

The Sign Post

It's funny where inspiration comes from. Something seemingly unrelated can trigger a thought, or a feeling. I wrote this last evening while I was driving home from the dentist while thinking about my 18 year old son, who is thinking about moving to England.
(Not to worry, though, I pulled over before I wrote it.)

The Sign Post

The Sign Post

He stood still
on the side of the road
paint cracked and peeling
words etched into the wood of his face
faded to dusty-gray.

He watched them come for miles
bright clear faces
longing for the sea
or to climb mountains.

He pointed the way equally to them all
the angry ones
looking to hurt someone
the sad ones
searching for a place to die.

Boldly in the wind and rain
while sun bleached his face to white,
in fog that hid him
in snow that buried him
he watched them come and go
sometimes wistful
sometimes with no thought of them at all
Just standing
as he was made to do
a sign-post by the side of the road

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

The Truth of Me

I don't understand how the hardest thing for me to be...is me.

All other definitions come easily to me, mother, wife, daughter, friend. These I know and have been successful at being for years. My own me, deeply hidden in the recesses, cringes in fear at the light of day. She hid herself from view, not sure if this world was safe enough. And with great zeal and creativity, created other hers. And lived as them. Now, I want out. To live my life in a straight line. To say, not what you want me to say, not what experience has taught me you want to hear. But to speak the words that rush, that barrel up from the bottom. The truth of me. I slide easily around inside myself, ducking behind corners, falling into manufactured selves. Out of fear, for safety, because it is easier and what I'm used to. But every now and then these days, I feel me, stepping out and shaking the water from my fur, blowing in the morning air. Surveying this fair landscape. For whole moments, I leave the shallows of my pond and walk naked as I am.

Friday, August 15, 2008

A beginning

I don’t get out much. It’s a disadvantage of living in the middle of nowhere and raising a large family among the hills and trees. I wouldn’t trade this wild, secluded way of living, the leaves that rustle outside my window, the raccoons who come to eat cat food off my back deck. But the world is wide and wondrous. I long to know the scent of unfamiliar spices, the lay of a different land, the foreign hum of people chatting about their daily lives in a language I can’t understand. I may never get to leave my house in the gully and see everything I want to see. I may never get to talk to a woman in New Delhi about what it is like raising a child in her land. I cannot help wanting to know.

I have started this blog to share my life as an American living in Virginia. I will post the funny, quirky things that happen as I wander through motherhood, housewife-hood, and now as a career-mom. I feel a need to share my stories, to give you a glimpse of the world as I see it. I also want to see yours, the color of your day, the mood of your morning ritual. My hope is this will become a place where you can tell me the little things, the color of your coffee cup, the view from your bedroom window, but also the deep life stuff, difficult things you are dealing with, challenges you face, dreams you have that you still hope will come true.

I hope you will join me in this sharing and exploration. I look forward to reading about even the seemingly insignificant, whatever the world has shown to you that you would like to show to others, whatever gives a glimpse of what it is like to be you, living your life, in your world, in your “view over here.”

Peace and Blessings
La