Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Neil Gaiman.

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."

Thanks Neil. Just in case anyone was wondering...love hurts.

Sunday, January 15, 2012


I am:
A good mother.
A good friend.
An adventure.
A treasure.

Look at the Fishies.

Little Miss and I went to the aquarium.
She loved it! She squealed and screamed in delight as she slapped her tiny hands on the glass and played in the water.

So as you all can see, she had fun. And it was fun watching her.
I do believe when she is old enough, I will have to take her to try lobster. She kept trying to lick the lobster exhibit's glass.
Of course my child would like sea food. I can't stand it! It's only fitting.
We'll be returning.

Friday, January 6, 2012

Gaining Self Acceptance.

Where to start?
I read an article, and it just yelled at me, "Remember me? Remember what it was like? Remember me!"
Don't worry. I remember.
This article, titled Body of Work (p.s. if you want to read this, follow the link and type the title into the search engine on the site. For some reason, it's not allowing me to link it directly), is the story of a model, too fat and too skinny. In other words, she was stuck in model limbo. This is a brief description about her journey to perfection.
Remember me?
Yeah, I remember you.
One of the darkest times of my life was the time when Perfection beckoned me with her long, beautiful hand, whispered promises with her sultry voice, seduced me with her unrealistic dreams. The soft caress of her lies assaulted my sensibilities and battered my beliefs.
Perfection was the abusive lover I couldn't resist, I couldn't refuse, I couldn't run from.
I suppose it's because we all have our weaknesses. Mine is perfection.
But guess what?
I'm not perfect. Shocker, I know.
So, yeah, Perfection. I remember you.
It is a continuous battle to remember that I'm better off without you. Perfection is tempting. I mean, to rid myself of all my flaws? To graduate college with perfect grades? To have a great paying job? To never screw up with raising a child? To always know the right thing to say? To never hurt, never cry, never look at myself and wish I was someone else? That would be perfect.
But I'm okay. I'm me. I have stretch marks and bony elbows. I don't get perfect grades because I don't always do my homework. I make minimum wage. I don't always know what decision to make with Little Miss. I have to apologize for feelings I hurt and fix mistakes. I hurt. I cry. I am me.
And I can accept me.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Bonding Over Bedtime Books.

The blankets are tucked. The story is read. The kisses are given. The lights are out.
Little Miss is in bed.
And I am sitting contentedly on the couch, thinking.
Little Miss and I read the first chapter of Winnie the Pooh. I am quite excited about this. We got the complete collection of A.A. Milne's classic story for Christmas. She also got a couple of the Olivia the Pig books. We've read some of those, and they are just adorable. Likewise, we have been reading Dr. Seuss stories.
Back to Winnie the Pooh. I absolutely love it! It is full of sweet little stories of imaginative adventures. I think I'm as excited to be reading it myself as I am to be reading it to Little Miss.
Books are very important to me. I have always loved books. I can recall when my great grandma would read to me the stories of Alice in Bible Land. I was so excited when I could read with her. And I loved when my mother would read to me. Reading is more than just listening to a story. It's a time for learning, for exploring the imagination. And it is a time for bonding and building memories.
And what could be more incredible than the bond between a mother and her child? Or a father and his child? Or a grandparent, an aunt, a brother?
It's the little things in life, the times that my mom and grandma read to me, that are some of the most meaningful. 
And I hope to pass on the love of books and reading to Little Miss.