What Comes After



I should probably just turn off my laptop and try to sleep, but I just feel like a giant ball of tangled rainbow yarn and I doubt I could sleep without writing something, ANYTHING, to pull a few threads loose so tomorrow will seem simpler. I know it's just stress and serious lack of sleep, but my emotions have been all over the map today and I am WORN OUT. I hate feeling this way because it throws me off balance. I am perfectly capable of controlling my emotions MOST of the time. It's just difficult when all of my energy is focused on just keeping my body awake though.

I was so nervous about working and being away from the kids and Heath so much. I still don't like that part, but the work isn't bad and the people I work with are, for the most part, a stellar bunch of people. I've had some really deep conversations and an unending supply of opportunities to sharpen my wit. It's sort of like an emotional high. Or maybe that's just the feeling of being sleep-deprived. Whatever it is, it's been nice to remember what just being me is like. I actually DO have a personality outside of wife and mother, but I tend to forget that. It's been interesting to get to know so many new people and have them actually seem to like me. Granted, they don't know me very well, but if I keep it that way maybe I can actually have friends.

I'm all irritable and smoldering at the moment. It's like no matter what I do I can't get anything right. There's never enough time. There's never enough money. I want to just curl up into a ball and cry for a day or five. Maybe I'm just wearing myself out by pretending to be some normal, happy person all weekend when I probably have no real hope of ever being either one of those. I'll bet you're thinking I should stay on those meds now, aren't you? Like I said. I'm tired and I just need to write some of it out. I try so hard not to think about the things that upset me. Like how much I miss my kids all weekend. How I feel like I'm a horrible mother for spending so much time away from them. How I hardly feel like a mom at ALL when I come home and it makes me feel lost. How I'm scared about being out in the "real" world again because I have all together too much experience with how cruel people can be for no apparent reason. I try my best to be nice to everyone. To be thoughtful and kind, but I'm terrified that I'm still going to piss someone off no matter what I do and I'm going to get hurt again. People, on average, just don't seem to like me. I might as well have "Kick Me" tattooed on my head.

This is the storm. The mad, frantic winds of the tornado that send the debris of my life spiraling into oblivion. My tears are merely the rain that lashes against my face as I stand defiantly against the wind and watch the lightning slash the skies in it's constant battle to upstage the thunder that rolls in like a freight train. I am small. I am weak. I've been thrown before, but it hasn't destroyed me yet and I stand, daring the storm to crush me in its mighty throes. I know pain. Though I still fear it, I know there is also a measure of comfort in the familiar. It will scar me. It will not leave me unchanged in its fury, but it will not take me yet. My weakness may prove to be my salvation should I learn to bend. Though perhaps I am strong enough to stand against it all. I KNOW there is something more to my life that remains just out of reach. Is it possible this storm will be the one that brings it within reach?

So what comes after? After the storm is spent and all is still? Will I be left standing in the same place I started or will I be miles away with a completely different view? I wish I could see that far ahead, but if I had the insight to see the outcome would I feel the desire to change it and risk losing the lessons it might teach? Ugh. I don't know. I DO know that I'm tired and a mess right now. Must. Suppress. Dark. Twisty. Side.

I'll feel better tomorrow, I'm sure. Sleep is a miracle worker.

Mommy's Ark


I've always loved animals. You might even say I've always had a way with them. When I was just learning to walk, we owned a Siamese cat named Sam. Sam didn't really like anybody but me. I could grab him around the belly and toddle around the house with him, fall on top of him, even put Mr. Potato Head's little green glasses on him, and he still loved me. I've had pets in my life almost constantly and they've all been like family. They have thoughts, feelings, and moods just like we do. Call me crazy, but you won't change my mind.

Lately, it seems like animals needing help show up wherever I go. Actually, I don't even have to leave the house. They just come to me. There was a hint of something supernatural in the sparrow that hit the front window last summer. She seemed so content to just rest in my hand long after she was ready to fly off. That stuck with me. I always feed the animals in our yard and bury any that I find that have died. I feel it's my duty to do what I can for them.

Heath says my heart is a little too big sometimes. I suppose he's right, but I can't imagine being any other way. Since the stray we took in (I still haven't found his name), there have been two more that have come to our house. One has been back twice for food but won't let us touch it yet. Hey, I get that my kids are intimidating. The other belonged to someone several blocks away.

Then, there was the cat that found me on the set of the movie I was working on (nothing glamorous, people) and stuck to me like glue. She came back to meet me every morning we were there. Thankfully, one of the women on-set took her home on Sunday. Heath would NOT have been happy if I brought home another cat!

Today, it was a duck. I swear, I don't go looking for these things. They just happen. I was on my way to get my hair cut and passed a female mallard standing in a puddle near the end of somebody's driveway. That's not uncommon around here. We have several that make their homes in the stream in our backyard. What was uncommon, is the fact that she didn't flinch when I drove by. I was going to keep going, but something inside me said I should stop and go back. So, I did. She was hurt, but I had no idea how badly until I actually caught her. She didn't make it easy, but she couldn't fly either and I couldn't just leave her when I saw she was bleeding. Her chest/belly were torn open, but since she was still moving around I figured the important stuff was still working.

Once I had her wrapped up in Abby's pink satin princess cape (I have weird things in my car) I took her the few blocks to our vet. He wasn't in yet so the lady at the desk sent me to the animal and avian clinic down the street. Makes sense, right? Well, they wouldn't help either since she was a wild animal. WHAT?! She's BLEEDING and OBVIOUSLY needs help! It's not like she has rabies! So they sent me half an hour away to the nearest state university since they have a wildlife rescue program. Had to stop and get gas before I could make THAT drive. Did I mention I was doing all of this with an injured duck in one arm?

I finally get there and say goodbye to her hoping that since she's still awake and trying to move around that nothing vital was damaged and she would be fine. They called me a couple of hours later to tell me she had a lot of muscle damage and they'd thought it best to put her down. If I'd only known that I would have stayed with her! She seemed to trust that I was trying to help her once I had her all bundled up and she realized I wasn't trying to hurt her. I shouldn't have left her alone.

Does this mean my heart is too big? Should I care a little less about these smaller creatures? I just can't accept that. I think there's a reason they find me. I'm not a better person than anyone else. I don't think loving these animals makes me special. I just do what needs to be done and trust things will work out for the best. I'm starting to wonder if there's some reason behind all of these. Is there something I'm missing? Something more I need to do? Am I really just finally starting to lose it? At this point, I wouldn't be surprised to see a lion with a thorn in his paw sitting on my front step some morning. I wonder what's next?

I am the Duck


It's taken me quite some time, but I think I've finally realized that certain things never change. I used to think that the kids in my elementary classes were mean. Then I went to junior high. I thought the backstabbing was bad there until I got to high school. I believed high school was cruel until I met the rest of the world. Do people really have nothing better to do than make trouble for someone else? Why can't we all just get along? (Sorry. Couldn't help myself.)

I am the duck. They are the drops of water that roll off my back. Breathe.

Yes, I'm venting once again. It just bothers me that so many people have unkind natures and when I actually manage to find a kindred spirit here and there, someone always has to try and spoil it. Seriously, people. I'm not your average spirit so finding a kindred one is RARE. I have enough issues to manage without you trying to steal my sunshine. Speaking of which... is that thunder I hear? Great. One more reason for my dear husband to get out of mowing the jungle that is our lawn again. I shouldn't complain. I could do it myself if I wasn't scared of the lawnmower.

I think I'm going to call the new cat Moe. I just feel like I should pick SOMETHING besides "new cat" since he's been here for almost three weeks. He has definitely gotten over his shyness. Jeepers! He's ALWAYS on me! I mean, I'm sure he's grateful to have a home and all, but honestly. It's okay to give me a bit of personal space now and then. I promise I won't forget you love me if you leave me alone for five minutes. The same goes for you, my sweet, sweet children. When I lock the bathroom door, it isn't because I don't love you and it isn't an invitation to bang on it for the next twenty minutes while I try to take the one shower a week you seem grudgingly willing to give me. I just like a few minutes to myself once in awhile. I am not hiding a secret chocolate stash. That would be impossible since you can sniff out sugar from distances that would impress a bloodhound. The only substance I may lock myself away to consume on occasion is one you are not old enough to partake of anyway.

I don't know where I was going with this post. My mind is still recovering from the weekend of work. I spent too much energy on enthusiasm and exercising my wit. We don't get out much, you see. I need to do more blogging this week so I do less talking this weekend. I want to pretend I fit in a bit more believably. I'm glad this is a weekend job because I really need the time to be me in between the trying to be normal.

On the Road


I'm writing from a hotel in Burlington. I'm going to be working on the set of a film called "Splatter". All I know at this point is that it's about love, honor, and paintball. I am reserving judgement until I've spent at least ONE day on set. I had to leave the kids at home and I'm missing them already. I've never spent more than two nights away from them. Not to mention Sunday is Mothers' Day. I just hope they're still awake by the time I get home that day. We need this money and it's a good experience for me. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

Today is also my brother Will's birthday. He's fortunate enough to be on a Bahamas cruise. I can't help but be jealous since his honeymoon to Jamaica was less than nine months ago. Especially since I've yet to have one. No. I'm not bitter. Why do you ask?

I hope he and Betsy are having fun. I wish I could go somewhere new and exciting that required a passport and isn't Mexico. Don't want to die of the pig flu or anything.

I'm sitting here watching "Son In-law" with Pauly Shore. I haven't seen it in years. It's still funny, but now I can see why my parents thought is was annoying. Pauly is such a dork. His version of "Thank God I'm a Country Boy" is priceless.

I'm going to try to get some sleep before I have to get up at some evil hour of the morning. I hear there's a masseuse in the tent next to our crafts tent so maybe it won't be ALL bad...