Tuesday, December 15, 2015


On Itunes, I normally go the 92nd street Y interviews. Today I chose one from 2006--Mommy Wars: Working vs. Staying Home, A panel discussion.

Ummm...very interesting. My brain runs around too much with this one. But at no point did I feel relieved or supported by my decision to stay home. Some of the things that are said are almost insulting. Some make me want to run away...some make me just want to sit and listen. I do struggle with it. I don't like it all of the time. I do get depressed...and might be more depressed than I am anything else. I have to take meds every day to get through it the way I want. Without them, I am horribly edgy and short tempered. I think there is something about not having my own money. This was a big discussion. My mom raised me to never be in the position I am now. I don't have my own bank account...I don't have cent that is mine. I feel as if I'm lesser because of it. I feel guilty if I need time away...employing a babysitter to do my job. My job...what is that exactly? "Take care of the girls." Grocery shop, shop for clothes, put away the clothes...I washed...clean their room along with every other room in the house. I pick up the house every single day...for hours I clean it up. Then everyone come in and destroys it and then I start over. Some days I am beat by 9. My husband looks at me, "you're going to bed now?" Yes, I'm exhausted. There is NO WAY that the thought, "but what did you do all day to make you THIS tired...I'm the one who had meetings all over and making presentations and preparing for this or that." Sometimes I feel that way, too. But, I do have days when I think...wow, I haven't even sat down today...except in the car. Because if I am sitting...and looking at something on the computer and he comes up, I feel like my boss just caught me not working. But then I remember, I'M MARRIED. And if I DID have a job outside the home...my suggestion of him helping me out with certain things wouldn't feel so bitchy...or pampered. "You're saying you don't like the life you have, there is something different that you'd rather do?" No...I love my girls, but the point was made that the most important thing you can do for your children is be happy. Later on, they won't have the guilt of keeping you away from a career path. Maybe they see other working mom's come home looking all dressed up and think that there mom wears jeans every day. My dad wore a suit every day and I was proud of it. Or maybe it was just that he was the judge...but I did like the suits. I feel as if I have a bad day...that everything jumps to the fact that I don't love what I do. Does anyone love what they do 100% of the time? Can't stay at home moms say, "this sucks" sometimes? I said it when I worked...

and then my mood can shift...because my insides flip hour to hour sometimes. Yay me. My husband just came up and discredited about every  negative comment about stay at home moms with good points, so I feel better. I do feel judged by moms that work. I don't have any judgements about them whatsoever. ??

Anyway...go listen to that interview and please tell me what you think.

Monday, November 16, 2015


A good day. Meds seem to be working...but I go back and forth with the anxiety management. I'm inspired today...feel good about the fam...feel okay about the fact that there is an enormous amount of laundry to be done...I'll get to it. Folding..geesh. I'll get there. I need a new system.

Spent my weekend working at the High Fall Film Festival. Meeting filmmakers, film lovers and tons of film nerds was great! I didn't feel like an alien there. Having a film degree gives you clout...even if you aren't using it. No one cares. If you majored in film...you are in.

I'm hoping to be part of the film selection committee for next year. so excited. 

I saw a film, Drama. and I loved it so much that I'm trying to get a hold of the director to discuss her work. She was so inspiring to me. She wrote about what she knew...and the body language that she incorporated with things was so natural. 

This is the type of writing I would do. That I will do, right...that's what I would say.

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Really positive and uplifting.

So, my life, most days, is just the most monotonous crap...pick up after everyone. I cleaned the entire day...my free day--no kids. WTF.
I am tired, I'm lost...or I think I am. I just got back from st. john and my observations of depressed women made me feel that there seems to be some sort of plague.

I just lied on my couch and listened to the last 2 hours of Amy Poehler's book, Yes, Please. It was good to finish something. It was great that my tv hasn't been on all day. After school, I took the girls to the library and then we came home and read and then played with change...looking up what all the pictures meant on each. Canadian money is just prettier.

I just went upstairs to get myself some yogurt and granola. I was winded and felt weak...because I've probably had 500 calories (maybe) today due to the fact that my meds completely take away my appetite. Without the meds, I have no patience with my girls and my chest caves in with anxiety and the feeling of being overwhelmed. With them, I practically starve to death unless I think about it.

I believe that everyone has something...a light in them...something they are good at. If it's being a serial killer, well, that sucks. But that's my struggle...finding my light. I love to write, but I can't get motivated to actually start something. I don't know what that something would be. I have ideas, but I am so wiped by the end of the day, the thought of trying to put that together---I am impressed with anyone that can do it. Maybe I'd have more energy if I ate dinner. If I felt like eating dinner.

Please, God, let me be a late bloomer. PLEASE send me a sign...or an a-ha moment.

Until then, I will continue to feel like a failure, daily, as a mom. I will see mistakes all the time and can't pull the words back in. I need to be mended and how the hell am I suppose to raise girls? My god, I'm going to fuck them up...please let it be minor. All I know, is that I hope, if I do fuck them up, that they will at least know they are loved...insanely. They do not lack in kisses and hugs and tears of regret and apologies. I introduce them to great music. I keep them away from shitty tv. I try to keep them away from tv as much as possible...because it seems to have a horrible effect on Z. We are reading more. I am positive. I help with homework. I reassure, I love them like no other and if I could eat them, I would. I wish I could freeze them at this age...well, maybe a year ago. Z's shitty attitude and sassy mouth have thrown me into hell. "Oh shit, I already screwed up."

All I can hope is that the universe knows I am open to anything...and that the fact that I love the girls so much will help them when they can't stand me.

Sunday, September 27, 2015

Gone Girl (I know, awful title (and movie)--but it fit.

I went away for a long time. And really, I'm still not here. But I felt that contact needed to be made.  I am lost. I really can't even explain what that means...except that the me in me feels gone. I'm insecure and irrational and too emotional and a little bit crazy at times. Some might say that actually sounds a lot like me, but it isn't. I'm a mom now. I'm a wife now. This type of behavior or inside trauma is unacceptable to me. I will not tolerate being this fucked up. So, I've been trying to fix it. My summer was spent trying to help someone else. I do find a lot of pleasure in feeling needed. That's probably an issue as well. I'm in therapy folks, no worries. I'm trying to iron it all out. It's hard to do with your life has daily worries of clean kitchens and crumbs on the floor. It seems to tear you down when you do your best to make the day awesome and your child has a meltdown and screams at you. This is do to the great day fatigue, but it still sucks.

Is this 40? Is this me? I just seem like I'm in some weird place and my insides are balancing out with my outsides. I get the EAT PRAY LOVE thing...I could do that about now.

But if anything, I'll try to write. I'll make an empty promise of trying to stay on this...more for me than for all of you that don't read anymore. Maybe this is my attempt to throw my shit into the universe and get rid of part of it.

Feel free to share any woes you may be having...or vent...or give advice. I'm here for you. Sort of. Not really, but it might feel better to write it out.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Time Changes

The hardest part
accepting how
people change
that alone
changes everything.

--Robert M. Drake

Yes...but I will expand. The hardest part isn't accepting how people change...but how they don't and why they don't...especially when it is needed. Why don't people change when they see how they hurt people? Why don't they change when they are miserable...they just accept it as a fact.

That is such bullshit. And that is the shit that drives me into the ground. I have to accept that some people won't, even though I did. I have to accept that some people don't like that I did..but realize that the people that are upset are the ones that just want company in their misery.

Be happy. Seriously. In your days, strive to be up, be positive, find the energy to pull through the dark.

Don't be a victim. You will always find those who want to save you...but what kind of life is that? A long, miserable, lonely one. And...eventually your savior will get tired. Save yourself.

what a vague and obvious post. but i don't care. my world seems to be full of the vague and obvious. It's obnoxious.

Friday, June 05, 2015

sending out a flare

Hello again....I make promises and then I break them...saying I'm going to keep up on this and then I get horribly distracted. OR I feel that my emotional purge wouldn't be good reading. But, who am I to say. The summer has started for me. Z finished pre-school...geesh. She is growing at a rapid pace right now and I can barely keep up. At times she is an absolute dream of a child...I pat myself on the back...until she starts talking back to me and saying things that i would never dream of saying to my parents. On the nights after she's become demon like and I put her to bed...I am on Google, researching how I can redirect her...how I've screwed her up...if I can fix it. Which is my first problem. Thinking that I can fix anything...all I can do is not fuck it up any more. I've stopped screaming--because I used to...a lot. I've stopped taking it personally (hence the screaming) and understanding that pushing her away during her times of freak outs doesn't work...I pull her as close as I can now...and that seems to help. I'm like a cow squeeze machine. (look it up, it can really work.)

I am throwing my attention outward lately...which is good. Having other things to think about besides my own whacko thoughts about my anxieties and my feelings of worthlessness. is welcomed. I do feel that my gifts are more in being there for others rather than making a product or performing heart transplants. Someone out here has to be the person that says it's all going to be okay. And when I tell Zoe as I hug her...she seems to calm.

I want it for myself. I want a squeeze machine. I will see if I can find one on Amazon.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

"the inner tapes of my parents"


I'm old school.
I want them to be there early
I want them to go to bed on time
I enforce boundaries
I make them clean up
I tell them not to spend time with people who don't make them feel good.
I tell them of their worth
I tell them I love them
I tell them to leave a situation that is uncomfortable
I tell them to love each other
I cuddle
I have dance parties
I save their art work
I have no tolerance for bad manners
I make them do it themselves
I am the bad cop
I tell them to sit up
I make them ask to be excused from the table
I limit sugar
I tell them I'm proud of them
I take pictures
I love when they climb in my bed in the middle of the night
I make them bathe
I get loud
I spank
I have regret
I am a different parent than I thought I'd be
I am exhausted
I go to therapy
I am trying

Thursday, April 23, 2015

10 mins to write a poem.

Yesterday I wrote of our how close I felt to you.
How you never let me down.
I felt vulnerable and seen.
Today, you are so damn cold.
I woke up and you made sure I knew...
You were warm to me, then you freeze me out.
I don't understand.
Do you want to prove that you're unpredictable?
That no one can really count on you?
Well, I knew that. Everyone knows that.
I moved away from you.
I couldn't stand being scared night after night...
wondering what you would do.
I knew that at any time, you could rip everything away...
You could beat up my car...break down the walls in my house...
I lived in fear every time I could see you getting that dark look.
So, I moved away. I went where your angry hand couldn't reach me.
Now, you're just cold...and you show'd me again just how cold you can be...
You can cover the things I love...making them cold and icy...
But I'll know that this is nothing compared to what you can do.
Spring in upstate ny (instead of western kansas)

I am procrastinating...and I can't anymore.

I over book my interests
I want everything in my mind to be worked on...right now.
I am tired...exhausted at night...wanting to just to lay down and veg.
nothing gets done.
How do people do it?
I'm trying to get back in to shape.
Every part of my body hurts. That's good.
I'm trying to organize my cluttered house.
I'm trying to help others who need my help...whether they do or not.
I'm putting off the writing I should be doing out of fear.
I'm desperately trying not to fuck up my daughters
I am trying to support my husband.
I am not doing a very good job with myself.
Everything is outside my body. I can't get inside.
I am afraid.
I have a vision...I need it to measure up.
What if it doesn't??
I will lose the idea I've had about myself my entire life.
Then...what will I do then?
I'm not sure I could live with that.
It scares me...the idea of being average.
Of not making an impact.
Of not making a difference.
Of disappearing.

But I'm trying. That's all I can do.
I'm on the edge of doing...I'm out of the chair...I'm looking over the edge.
Fuck...that's a long way down...that's going to take a while
It takes a while of doing something before you realize you either should or shouldn't be doing it anymore.

It's all I have. It's all that has made me feel as if I'm special.
My brain...it's workings...it's meant for something.
My heart...it's ability to feel so much more than I feel it was intended to.
I am wrecked daily by someone else's story.
My heart breaks...
I can only hope that it breaks open enough to spill out words on a page.
Words that will affect and change and help other hearts grow.
The world is so ignorant.
It's evil and cruel.
I have to create something that my daughters can cling to.
"This is what she wrote...what she completed...and it says so much. This was who she was."
And they'll always have it...and will always feel them with them.
That's why I need to do it.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

circle of friends...

Having a day that I don't feel like explaining. A day where your feelings are yours...and voicing them won't make sense. As if there aren't words that could ever explain it. There could be many reasons for this...

I'm still reeling over my long weekend with friends...the conversations, the tears, the laughter, the feelings of love.

My mom and sister just left...my mom after 6 weeks...my sister, after we finally had some time to ourselves over a course of days. (who knows when that will happen again.)

I'm just exhausted.

I have too many things I want to do and I can't put them in order...and I am overwhelmed by the thought of losing the inspiration to do them.

I am, once again, feeling like a sponge for other peoples' anxiety...taking on their mental dump they  just had over the phone. 

Here's the thing. Friends are important. Their influence in my life has been extraordinary. I look back at some of the times I've had and am amazed that I have the same friends since grade school. I'm a difficult person. It takes a lot of listening and squinting. (squinting and shaking of the head...maybe just inside)

But friendships evolve and change. And sadly, I now believe they have their seasons. A close friend in your 20s does not mean you will be close in your 40s. That pains me. I don't like to see people slip away. But, after a while, conversations become too difficult. Your thought patterns just don't jive. We all change. I've been lucky to have so many that I feel I can learn from. I know when they are guarded on the phone. I know when they are just off...and they can't talk about it. I don't think they know I know...and it seems awkward to mention it.

I'm changing a lot. Especially this year. My insides need cleaned out. Right now the dust is flying and all of the drawers are poured out--it's somewhat a mess. But...at least it's not pristine--with all of my demons hiding under the carpet or the bed...or in a locked drawer. It's hard to find friends that aren't phased by my mess--but I have them.

Just wish we could spend more time.

Friday, January 23, 2015

Quick Best Pic Oscar post.

American Sniper--just not good. for many reasons. mostly because clint didn't do his job.

Birdman- VERY good. hoping it gets the love it deserves.

Boyhood- Good, but not for everyone. Long. very real life...it's not for the typical hollywood blockbuster movie goer.

The Grand Budapest Hotel- hilarious. beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. well thought out and executed.

The Imitation Game- good viewing...acting was okay. Benedict was pretty good. Not sure why Keira was nominated.

Selma-- I learned something. so, that's a good thing. It was average. Didn't carry the weight it should have.

The Theory of Everything--have yet to see...but should by next week.

Whiplash-- same thing. hoping to have it viewed very soon.

Saturday, January 17, 2015


okay obviously thinking I could stick with this every day was far fetched. I always think I can do it all and I can't. I have such control issues. I get very frustrated if I can't get it all done. I have a hang up with not following through. It drives me nuts. I need to make my expectations more realistic. Even sleep. I can't expect I'm going to get much. Lately, I don't. The girls climb in one by one at some point in the night. One normally takes over my pillow. One I have to constantly be moving over. Getting restful sleep is difficult. But it won't always be like this. I know other things will get more difficult, but a lot of things will get easier as the girls grow older.

Life is good. I'm just tired. But nothing compared to other people. Complaining about anything seems so trivial. I am aware of the hardships of the world. People living in war zones, poverty, abusive situations....and I'm tired because my healthy, sweet girls climb in with me. My God. Get a fucking grip.

Saturday, January 10, 2015

ups and downs

Woke up this morning with Zoe on my back and Harper tucked tightly under my chin. I was sandwiched between my two girls and felt like I should note it in my mind. This is a sweet, wonderful moment. I loved it. I love it...and I hope those moments will shape them. I hope they woke up feeling loved and safe. My family is  not cuddly. We couldn't crawl in bed with my parents. My dad's parents were a different story. Memories of waking up and knowing I could crawl into with my grandparents...welcomed and loved. Those moments helped shape my heart.

This morning. My kitchen is an absolute disaster. I mean, frightening. And yet...I'm sitting here, writing and enjoying my coffee. I feel like I'm growing.

My winter blues has taken residence in my chest. The sitting elephant has returned. ??? Happened same time last year. This morning the pressure is gone, not sure why. One of the most annoying things about anxiety...is if you don't know the origin. Does that mean I'm disconnected? Does everyone struggle with figuring out their ins and outs, or is just the people who think too much, like i do.

I won't be sticking my head in an oven...no worries.

Thursday, January 08, 2015

off putting

Well, I missed a day. damn.
Yesterday I spend all day cleaning Z's room...and the loft...and totally redoing the bookshelves. Got rid of 2 big bags of books. Somehow January has always been a manic month of feeling overwhelmed with stuff. Time to purge. During the purging, I started listening to the Serial podcast. It's about figuring out a murder that happened in the early 90s. So addicting.

In case you are interested:

Went to therapy today. Basically figuring out my ridiculous hurt feelings. She does a good job of helping me find the source of the feeling...the helps me let it go. She told me I was good at trying to see the good in people--always trying to find the reason for their behavior. Yeah, great...but for some reason, it doesn't cure my heavy chest.

My goals for my 40s might just be shifting to my 50s.

Tuesday, January 06, 2015


I spent my day cleaning, watching the girls make a mess, cleaning up the mess...and then feeling behind. After days of putting away the decor, it is done. This is my life. Dad called today. He was just about to cross over the border to Mexico. I suppose I always wonder if that's the last time I'll talk to him. He said he'd be drinking coffee from his mug like mine. He was very sweet. I only see him about once  year now. Kind of sad. But at least they are quality visits.

There is something about watching my children grow...and feel badly that my parents don't really know them. My mom used to come all of the time...but now she is afraid to fly. Not sure what she's gong to do. There certainly does not seem to be any race to get here or anything. OH WELL.

That's what therapy is for. I go Thursday. I can express my  hurt feelings and she can get me to figure out where they originate...and so on. Oh how the world would be a better place if everyone went to therapy--and had a good therapist. I had a bad one for a year and she almost ran me into the ground. I had never felt so awful than after leaving her office. She drove me into the lowest of the lows. Plus she told me that I should get divorced. Ummm...I've never even mentioned divorce. That's the last thing on my mind. So, I divorced her.

Therapy is always good, I think. We are all alone in the world. Whether you are surrounded by people or not. We all have our private internal selves...the thoughts and ideas that we don't share. I turn thoughts over and over ad over and over ....and who wants to keep listening to that? My therapist, that's who. There is a comfort there that they sort of have to listen to you. It's awesome. I recommend it.

Monday, January 05, 2015

I'm tired.

I keep saying I'm going to get better at this and I don't.

I keep thinking I'm going to be struck with something great to write about and I don't. Or I'm too exhausted to think about it. Or I'm wondering how my thoughts will come across. I have a million reasons why I'm not writing. Mostly, I think it comes down to fear. Fear of showing myself...and my real thoughts and being received as odd. By almost 40, I'm not sure why I care. And, I'm sad that I thought by 40, I wouldn't...still care.

I guess I should find comfort in the fact that I'm not satisfied with who I am. I happy that I'm not done working on myself. I might think about it too much, but then again...I do that anyway.

Rolling Stone posted a story about a guy who wrote about his film addiction. I definitely have one. I find myself wanting to watch a made up someone's life rather than live more of my own. It's tiring.

Short entries are better than no entry. Every time I feel like writing, I'm overcome with fatigue. ?? Complete exhaustion takes over and I just want to sleep. Denial? Fear? Laziness?

My 40th year I should spend writing each day. I'm 5 days behind. Great. See, I already feel defeated. I'm going to try. Really. Don't believe me, huh. Yeah, me either, but we'll see. Whatever comes out, comes out. Boring, weird, irrational or over emotional...it is what it is.

I saw The Imitation Game over the weekend. By the end, I just wanted to take a huge stance against all anti gay everything. By the end, I had tears streaming down my face and I was tired. Jason asked how I was...because  I wasn't talking...and he was trying to get me to order food..."umm...you look like you're needing some time or something." ha. I'm sure he gets freaked by my diving into a movie and practically drowning in my thoughts about it.

"I'm tired. Tired of it all...of all the bullshit...the anti gay shit. The WHOLE THING. I am. Tired of the fb shit. Tired of the religious shit. Tired of them not being able to marry. Tired of people who say it's a lifestyle choice. Tired of people who don't even know a gay person making statements about what they think. It's just so annoying...and I'm tired. Tired of getting mad about it...getting sad about it...tired of biting my tongue. Tired of trying to see everyone's view point. Tired of hearing how this or that says it's wrong. Tired of seeing things that make me embarrassed for the times we live in. Tired of judgement. Tired of ignorance. Fuck. When will this be over?!!! The fact that we still have such horrible race issues doesn't make me hopeful that it ever will be. As long as someone is different, they will be persecuted. It's gross and awful...and fucking tiresome.