Three Sisters/Two Generations/Countless Lifetimes

When I was small, I wished for a little sister. I had two brothers and a family dog, and I felt left out. I felt like I had lost someone in my life, and was sad that they were not here with me. I used to tell my parents I wanted a sister.

"The boys have each other, you two have each other, and all I have is the dog!" I would complain. (Sorry for all you dog lovers out there, but she was not my dog, she was there when I arrived. For the record, she was the best dog I've ever known.)

Very lucky for me, my parents did decide to have another child. By luck or by fate, they had a girl. They gave me my sister.

I was thrilled to find out on the day she was born that she was a girl. I remember it well, because I was actually sick that day with a stomach flu. I had to go to school anyway, as my parents didn't know what else to do with me! My mom had to go to the hospital!

My teacher knew the circumstances, and these were the days where there was less protocol, and more common sense. She let me rest whenever I needed, and told me I only had to do the work if I felt I could. I made it through the day and went off to the babysitter's house.
I was sleeping when my dad called to tell me I had a baby sister. He knew I would be so excited. I remember hearing the one sided phone conversation, but my sleep kept me from reacting. Until my babysitter patted my shoulder and said, "Deedee. You have a baby sister."

I smiled, feeling so excited that she was finally here, and went back to sleep.

To any outsider watching my reaction, they probably would have thought I didn't care much at all. Inside, I was elated. I loved her already, and we hadn't even met. She was the sister I always wanted.

I thought I was complete. Our family of 6 felt perfect. Two boys, two girls, and two parents. Of course, it wasn't always smooth and cheery. We had our times of arguing, and strife. But I always felt that my baby sister was here for me (even when she did what she wanted to do, instead of what I wanted her to do).

As I became an adult, I came to realize that she wasn't here for me exactly, of course, but we definitely were put here together on purpose. We have a connection much deeper than this life, for certain.

I thought the two of us were it, forever. No matter who else we ended up with, or where life might take us, we would always be a pair.

I was wrong.

Another thing I knew at a very young age, was that I wanted to have children some day. I knew this at the core of my soul, and I knew it would happen some day. My young adult self thought I had control over when it happened, and I guess to some degree, that's true. But when I think back on it with what I know now, I really didn't have a say in it at all.

I feel that what happens is agreed on ahead of time, and we stumble through this realm into the path we were meant to have (be it good, bad or ugly).

What I didn't realize is that perhaps I was still waiting for someone to arrive. Perhaps our sister pair was not quite the complete picture I thought it was.

My first pregnancy was ultra planned. I kept track of everything, as best as a Virgo can, and thought everything was perfect.
Do you think you're having a boy or a girl? Everyone loved to ask me that question.
How should I know? I've never been pregnant before, and I don't know what they feel like at all! Be it a girl or boy, I didn't care.

We went to my first ultrasound eager and excited. Soon to be grandparents joined us. The technician asked me several times if we wanted to know the sex. Yes! Who wants to wait any longer? (Several people, come to find out, like to wait until the baby is born. I couldn't wait another second.) As she was asking me if I was sure, I saw it all on screen. I looked at a picture of inside my belly to see inside my baby's belly, and saw... ovaries. There they were plain as day.
"Say it. Say it. It's a girl." I said in my head over and over. Apparently this woman wanted to be really sure I was sure. Then she told us we were having a girl, and that she looked good and everything was in its right place and right time.
Joy!
Every day from that time on was joyous.
When she was born, I woke up to every day feeling like Christmas for me. What will today bring? What will she do? What will she look like? What will I be able to show her? Every day for her first year held this bliss. (Aside from a lack of sleep, and trying to get myself back to work, and also building our own house all at that time.)

The parenting role happens so quickly, so tightly, so finite, I hardly noticed it being a role. Taking care of our children just became part of my life every day.
I became so-and-so's mom quickly, and it felt nice.
The years sometimes feel like they roll by like film in an old projector. It's quick, and there is a lot to see, with a definite story, not sure if you like it all or not, but then, next thing you know, 20 years have gone by. Yes, 20.

Conversations with my children have gone from me teaching and giving advice to them, to us discussing life and giving each other advice. It's freaking fabulous.

My daughter tells me I'm her best friend. When she first started telling me that, I thought, "How cute. She'll find someone she likes better some day. This won't last long."

She's 20, and she still tells me that. After many years of this, it dawned on me that she too is my best friend. When did that happen? Oh yeah, when life rolled by on the projector.
What do you know? I have two women in my life that are my best friends!

I had no idea that I'd been waiting for another sister to come into my life, and here she was! I feel so tied to these ladies, words cannot do justice to the bond I feel. There is definitely some past lives shared together here. There is a lot of love, caring, compassion. Even though we may have different titles here in this life, to me, we are always the three sisters.

I Don't Care If a Gay Club Got Shot Up

Like the title says, I don't care that a gay club got shot up.

What?! How could I say that?!

Because it's horrific regardless of the sexual preference of the people in the club.

I don't care if the shooter had "issues" for years before this.

I'm sick of hearing about how these ultra violent psychopaths had "issues".

OBVIOUSLY!!!

But did ANYONE do ANYTHING about them???

NO

We wait until something tragic, horrible, unimaginable happens. Then we look at the killer's life with sadness and anger in our hearts.

We criticize everything about that person's life. We wonder, "Why didn't someone know before this?" Or, "Why didn't someone help this person, or put this person away before they went crazy?"

I don't care about gun control.

It's completely politically incorrect to say that, and I don't care. I'm sick of political agendas being attached to human tragedies and having those tragedies exploited for political gain.

Killing people is a tragic thing. Mass killings under any religion, terrorist group, radical beliefs, political views, or any other reason you can think of is wrong. Killing is horrible. To take a life away from this earth before it was ready is not anyone's business to do.

What about killing for a cause? Aren't there wars that have killed hundreds of thousands of people in the name of freedom, or power, or promises?

Yes, and they're wrong. All killing is wrong. It's unfortunate that we, as a human race seem to drive ourselves to it time and time again. It is the extreme we go to to prove a point. A point that we lose sight of when the killing starts.

Then it simply becomes kill or be killed. Protect yourselves and your loved ones, or surrender your weapons to a government so they will "protect" you. (Not really a fan of that last.)

So, where does this leave us as the human race? What are we doing here? Why do we keep doing this to ourselves?

Peace and love, and peace and love. We preach it, but do we practice it?

Do we love each other every single day?

Do we love the psychopaths before they commit mass murder?

Do we love the radical terrorists after they suicide bomb?

Do we love the "crazy" neighbor down the street.

Do we teach our children to love the misfit in the classroom, on the playground, on the bus? Do we love the misfit?

Because we need to. We need to love all of them as much as we love ourselves and our loved ones.

Maybe therein lies the problem...

Do we love ourselves???

If we did, I'm pretty sure we couldn't take another life, no matter the sex, race, religion, sexual preference of another.

When we start to teach our children to love themselves and to treat others as they would want to be treated (oh, is my Catholic showing? #sorrynotsorry), perhaps then we can spread the love to those who are in true need.

I do care that there was so much senseless violence over the weekend, and continues every single day in every part of the world. I pray for peace and love every day, and strength to help others in need.

Amen.

Book Review: Soul Keeper, The Series by L.A. Starkey

Soul Keeper, The Series by L.A. Starkey
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This series is simply amazing. An in depth, intimate look into the lives of the Greek gods unlike any other I've read in the past. Oh, they are still up to no good, manipulating the lives of humans and each other. But in this story, L.A. Starkey gives us a much closer look at what makes them do the things they do bringing us closer to the lives of gods than ever before.
Deceived is where we meet Sam, and her friend Julie. Two teenage girls seemingly average. Strangers enter their lives, and the Greek tragedies as we know and love them are swung into motion. Here we see Sam learn of her destiny. How she comes to terms with it is lovely in this first book of the series.
This brings us to Destroyed. Not only the name of the second story in this series, but the continuation of Sam's journey. We are brought right along with her, when she is swept up in a quest, furthering the tragic events. The development of characters, Sam, Julie, Marcus, Nick and Stephanie are remarkable. You feel each one's decisions, heartbreak, excitement and sadness.
Finally, we enter the Descent. "At the core of every evil is pain." By this time we even get an inside look at the feelings and heads of the gods. It's something I wondered whether or not would be done right, and rest assured, it was. These gods became more real to me than ever before, and it was a thrilling ride!
This series brought me through just about every emotion there is. From sadness, fear and heartbreak to lust, deceit, friendship and true love, this series was truly special. The writing is fantastic, and I felt like it was from the depths of my own head and thoughts. I highly recommend this series to anyone who enjoys stories about relationships, love and adventure!

View all my reviews

In Love With Love

I love Valentine's Day.

Yep, I do.

Despite the commercialism.

Against the haters.

I'm in love with love.

I've loved the color red since I could remember. Growing up a redhead, I was always told I shouldn't wear red. I liked red. I settled for pink. I think by middle school 80% of my wardrobe was pink. The rest of it was green, as that's what looked good with red hair.

To this day, I love the combination of pink and green. Coincidence?

Last year I wrote about some of my memories about Valentine's Day, and why I love it. This year I continue to be excited about sharing the day with my family.

I like to think of Valentine's Day as a day to spend with those you love. You don't have to spend it with only one other, in a most romantic fashion, with flowers, candy and jewels. (Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't say no to any of it.)

Think of it as a time to be with anyone you love, even your favorite pet.

Even yourself.

The commercialism of this holiday has gone so overboard, every "single lady" out there hates on it. They feel sorry for themselves if they aren't receiving a bouquet of roses and a proposal in a glass of champagne.

Forget that!

Dump it!

Let it go!

Stick it to "the man"!

 Enjoy where you are, and who you are.

A couple years ago I designed shirts for my little ones. I was so excited to come up with the designs and see them come to life on the shirts! I got to make each one custom to them, and for less than $10 a piece.

Of course, I wrapped them over heart shaped boxes of chocolates too. I'm a sucker for the sweet thangs.

They loved them! They even wore them proudly the next day to school.

The real pleasure of the day was seeing their faces opening their gifts. Enjoying the love and happiness that came from something simple but meaningful.

The hub and I exchange gifts too. We try to keep it simple as well. There haven't been jewels for years. Flowers aren't my thing. Let's see, I believe the year before last was a pink PS3 controller.

The year before that was a bottle of marshmallow vodka. Mmm...that was yummy. I give him chocolate that usually sits around until the kids ask if they can have it.

This year I am keeping it simple again, with...well, I can't tell you, it would spoil the surprise. You can bet there will be something sweet with it though.

So this year, find your love. Whatever, wherever, whoever that might be.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Summer Family Time

Yesterday was spent at the lake. Like so may other days in summer.

We met up with my whole, nuclear family to celebrate two next generation birthdays.

The next generation. They are here, and they are awesome.

I mean awesome in the true meaning of the word. They evoke awe in me and my generation.

Life is an amazing thing. When you can watch it happen, from the beginning, it is a privilege. So many changes, so much chaos. All as time goes consistently by.

Two births celebrated. One on her fifteenth year, the other on her third. A span of twelve years, but celebrating together. Watching my two nieces, my two Godchildren celebrate their lives was awesome.

I am appreciative of celebrations at the lake in the summer. We cram dozens of family into that tiny kitchen to sing happy birthday, and it’s always amazing to me. It’s a magic home of love and life.

There, you can see so much. There are all the stages of growing up, growing old, and many memories of those who have gone. They always come to join us for the celebrations. They are with us in words, stories, jokes, even poking fun at them in a happy, beautiful, funny way, bringing them to life at our parties.

I look at the children around the large, wooden table, whose faces are barely above the table’s horizon.

I smile.

That used to be me. Peering over to see the birthday guest blow out their candles. Having a grown up snap a candid shot. Feeling a little embarrassed by the moment.

I see the same feelings through my lens, but experience now the new feelings of the grown up who snapped the candid shot.

Awesome. Truly full of awe to live such a moment.

This week we will also celebrate my mother’s birthday. So many great people born this month! It will be another great day of celebration. Another great day of life.

It has become a popular phenomenon to write out a beautiful moment in your life here in the world wide web, and hash tag it, “blessed”. It is a wonderful thing that so many people out there are appreciating the little things in their lives. Of course, it gets abused, misused and overused. That’s the nature of us, after all. I still appreciate seeing people being thankful for what they have.

Happy even.

Blessed.

It’s those little things in our age of technology, plastics, fast services, instant gratifications, that make it come together in a way that no technology can do.

It is life.

Happening.

Consistent, but changing.

Always.

Late Night Chats

Flop on the bed

Lights are dim

It’s late

The boys off to dreamland.

Late night talking with my daughter.

My one and only girl.

So much feeling!

So much love!

So much chatting!

Friends

Foes

Loves

Losses

Pasts

Presents

And futures.

School

Summer

Plans

Tears

Spirits

Laughter

Love

So much love!

These are the moments

The times

I will never forget.

Even if there comes a day

That I don’t remember.

That love will never leave me.

The Ultimate Understanding- A Rambling

I think the best way to understand someone is to know them. To get to know someone is a process. It takes time. It doesn't happen just because you introduced yourselves. It may not even be nice all the time. People are different. We all come from many different places, different situations, different genes, different upbringings.

Sometimes we find things out about a person we don’t like or agree with. Personally, I find I try to stay away from these people. Nobody is perfect, including me, so perhaps I shouldn't be so harsh. (But I have that keep-myself-happy thing in my brain, so it tends to push me away.)

Lately however, I feel like people need a more worldwide understanding about ourselves.

Why do we fight? Why do we have war? If we knew the people we fought with, perhaps we’d be more understanding about them. Perhaps we wouldn't find it necessary to fight.

To know someone.

Talking, sharing times, laughing, finding common interests, and really knowing the ones that were once different. These are ways we get to know someone. Sometimes we get to know a person so well, and we like the same things as they do. We put our lives closer to theirs, because it makes us happy.

Sometimes we are forced to be around people we are different from. Perhaps we go to school, or work with them. Maybe their a member of our families. They do things different than we do, so we don’t like spending time with them. We find a way to put up with their differences, because we have no choice. Perhaps we find that we can be near them, despite the differences. Perhaps there are things that are fun, or silly, or smart, or creative, or intelligent, or philosophical, or what have you, that you find interesting about those people. And even though you have differences too, there are one or two things that are similar, so you can get along.

Learning to get along.

Knowing each other.

Ultimate understanding.

I think that’s the key to world peace. I mean, I don’t even know if I believe in world peace, because I know how idealistic and Utopian it sounds. But I guess I always did believe it would be nice. Really nice.

Ode of Mothers

Soft, snuggly,

Always loving,

Always giving.

They make everything feel right and good.

With their hugs,

Their kisses,

Smile,

Eyes.

Thank you mom.

How can this be?

When did this happen to me?

This is more special than anything else in the world!

To be responsible for this life,

This being,

This miracle!

Now there are three!

What a responsibility!

What an honor,

A blessing that they chose me!

I shall do my best

To pass all their tests,

And be the best mom I can be!

(I hope I succeed!)

Mom, what do you want for Mother’s Day?

A question that appears each year.

It makes my head spin,

For I am in a place of honor.

I am in the place I have put my own mother.

Now we share the honor together.

Not only once a year as we remember and celebrate,

But every day.

We are mothers.

Every day,

Every hour,

Every moment.

Forever.

Thank you mom.

Holidays: Happy Holy Week

Some people are celebrating Passover right now...

Happy Passover.

I think Passover is a terrific holiday to remember, and was impressed as a child that it had been celebrated for so long throughout history. I think it should be celebrated by any nationality. It is a good thing to remember and be happy for.

Others are celebrating Holy Week...

The week of Easter.

I am one of these. I was raised Catholic, and I now raise our children Catholic.

Easter always held a special place in my heart.

Of course, as a child, I looked forward to candy filled baskets (after I got over my fear of the Easter Bunny), but my Catholic upbringing soon brought deeper meaning to the holiday.

I remember many occasions when I hear or see (in many movies) the Passion of Jesus and I feel sad and heartbroken.

I cry all the time when I hear it. Still.

Even though it took place over two thousand years ago, I still cry for Jesus' death on the cross.

Remembering this every year is important to me as a Catholic. It is, after all, the cornerstone of our faith. It is the reason Catholicism exists.

I believe that is an important thing to remember, and to teach our children.

Jesus led a beautiful, peaceful, loving life. If we all aspired to live like he did, it would be a pretty great world.

Now, people spend their lives studying world religions to become versed in them, and knowledgeable in their faith.

This blog is to acknowledge the holiday, so I don't plan on getting too religious.

The neat thing about holidays is you can make of them what you wish. You can celebrate religiously, you can celebrate with the bunnies, you can simply celebrate Spring's arrival. I love that we have the freedom to do that in my country. I like to mix them all up into one celebration.

Easter will always hold a special place in my heart. It is the reason I am Catholic.

This week I will start the celebration by making unleavened bread on Holy Thursday.

I will attend the Passion in Church on Friday, fasting as much as I can.

Saturday will be preparing for Easter morning, as I assist the Easter bunny.

Saturday night I hope to have time to attend our Church's Easter vigil celebration mass.

Sunday I prefer to enjoy the morning watching our three children, two nieces, and one nephew hunt for their baskets, enjoy the charge they get from eating sugary treats for breakfast, then have the rest of my family over for dinner. We also sneak in a luncheon and egg hunt with my in laws.

It's a day of family...

of love...

of remembrance...

of celebration of life.

Happy Holy week in whatever way you choose to celebrate!

Personal Week: Okay, So I'm Fat

Yep, I said it, the F word. No, not that one. Hell, that one is so over used, it’s hardly bad anymore! (But it is though.) The other F word. The one nobody wants to be called, let alone actually be.

Fat.

There. It’s not such a bad word. Three simple little letters put together to describe something the opposite of thin.

It used to be a good thing to be fat. Desired even. (Way, way back, but just sayin.) It meant that you were wealthy. Wealthy enough to have food every day. So much so that your body showed it. The wealthy and powerful were fat. It was cool. They were the “in” crowd.

(Tangent Time!)

I considered blogging about how I got this way. How somewhere around when I was little I became very self conscious about how fat I was, even though I wasn't fat at all. I was an active kid., when I got hungry, I ate. Somewhere along the line that changed. Then lots of other stuff, people I could blame (and did for a while) and circumstances happened.

Life happened.

Today I am fat.

I’m okay with that. It doesn't bother me. I can look at myself naked in the mirror and see my flaws, but fat never seems to be one of them. Gravity. Now that is a whole other story.

(End of tangent.)

Turn to present day in our society and fat is a four letter word. It’s about the worst thing you can say about someone. In fact, it’s hardly used to describe someone at all. Heavy, big boned, curvy, large, XL and more are used instead to try to soften the description of someone who is the opposite of thin. Fat has become an insult.

Or funny.

You can be fat on television or in movies, as long as you are funny. Try to be taken seriously and the roll goes to someone else. So you’d better be funny, or be what I call the fat chick behind the scenes. If you've ever watched a red carpet event. Ever. Look in the background. Everyone behind the person on camera is a fat chick. Doing the work that doesn’t get seen and probably wishing they were the ones on camera, but just happy to be in there somewhere.

WTF.

What a goofed up society we live in.

I could really go on and on about this topic. The long story of how I got here and how I feel about it and blah, blah, blah. Maybe someday I’ll blog about that. For now, I’m fat. I’m okay with that. Society isn’t.

They tell me it’s not healthy. They tell me I’ll have troubles.

I do have troubles. I have knee troubles from a car accident I had 23 years ago. I was in pretty good shape at that time. I was never what you might call thin, but I looked good. I exercised and walked a lot. Of course, I was young, so I  had that on my side too.

Now I’m fat, my knees have extra weight on them. They probably hurt a bit more because of that. But here’s the kicker; I can’t do certain things to exercise because I hurt my knees, so I am heavy, which hurts my knees.

WTF.

I used to like the stairmaster. Yes, the stairmaster. That junk rocked my legs like nothing else! Nope, not after you hurt your knees. Now I avoid stairs. A stairmaster is out of the question.

My blood pressure probably isn’t ideal. I don’t obsess about it and have been told by a second opinion that a normal increase is okay with age (ugh, age…don‘t even get me started), so I leave it at that.

Otherwise I am healthy. I don’t eat take out, fast food, soft serve ice cream…all those things that people think fat people eat all the time. I don’t drink a lot, I don’t smoke or do any other type of drug.

Then there’s sugar.

Apparently sugar is the new cocaine. I believe it. It is the most addicting thing I consume. It’s everywhere. It is the hardest thing to stop consuming that I have ever tried to give up.

I’m an addict. I admit that. It makes me glad I never did smoke or anything else, because this is hard enough. This is my vice.

For years I told myself that it wasn't so bad. Of all the things out there in the world you could be addicted to, sugar was practically harmless. So I’d put on weight because of it, so what? What did that really mean?

What it really means is that I have to cut it out. It’s the one thing I do to myself that is definitely not healthy.

I know this.

I tell myself this every day.

Every day I start off with the intention of doing better than the day before.

Most days I fail.

Some days I succeed. Some weeks are great.

Some days I try not to think about it at all.

Mostly I believe in being healthy. I don’t like being out of shape, getting winded taking a flight of stairs. That’s not good. But being fat doesn't mean you are unhealthy.

Being sedentary and not eating right = unhealthy.

Fat does not equal unhealthy.

I know a lot of people have very strong opinions on being fat, being thin, being in shape, being healthy.

These are mine. I chose to share them to give you a better iDDea of who I am.

This is my life.

My experience.

My blog.

Here you go.