Bru's Musings

It's Back

2011-04-03T22:26:00.002-04:00

Wow - can't believe I haven't posted in a year.

Warning...this post may cause sadness and/or tears.

It's back. I hate It. A product of the evil one, that's for certain. I hate sickness, sadness, illness, pain, sin in general. And I really, really hate cancer.

When we first found out, I spent the week waiting for a treatment plan feeling as if every inch of my skin was cracking open, sort of like you see in pictures of the driest of deserts...deep gashes with pustules sprouting up and oozing dread. When the doctor gave us his prognosis, the me inside my head ran back and forth for days, tugging and pulling at my hair, screaming at the top of my lungs, wild-eyed and frantic.

More recently the me inside my head is that 5-year-old little girl with long brown hair who just wants to hide behind Mama, entwined around her legs and tugging at her dress.

When I get to heaven I know who I want to talk to, besides the obvious (Jesus). I want to sit down with Abraham and understand what he was feeling when God took him to the altar to sacrifice Isaac and did not stop him until the last minute. How could he go forward with such a command? What did he feel? Was he crying so hard he couldn't see? Can I be that in love with God?

I will not give an inch on my faith. I will stand firm and hold on, remembering that God did not lift his hand for Daddy until the last moment; that He did not halt Abraham until the final moment. He is a God of promises, and as much as I love my Mom, He loves her even more than I.

I will stand firm, though it is with constant nausea and the voice of a 5 year-old.

The End

2010-03-21T19:37:00.003-04:00

I realized today that I have finally, completely, given up hope. I'm too tired to fight anymore; I just don't have it in me to wage the war or even one more battle. I can only resort to basic survival now.

It isn't that I'm in constant pain; it's that I'm on constant guard against pain. The list of things I can't do seems ever-present in my mind, first and foremost is don't laugh, even a little. I had long ago accepted the fact that my heart was broken beyond repair, finally coming to terms with living with it pieced back together like a glass bauble held together with tape - not mended, but with all the pieces held in place. This was fine, because I was able to focus on things that made me laugh as the bright spot in my days. Laughter has been my healing balm, my drug of choice, my medicine for an ailing soul, my gift from God. Now that, too, has been taken from me.

An act as simple as sneezing, coughing, clearing my throat, or bending over to pick up something I drop on the floor can ruin my day. And I am alone in this. I know Christ loves me, for scripture tells me He does. But I can't see it, and I can't feel it. And other than my son, I have nothing. How did I get to this place? How did I get to be so alone? How is it that I spend so much time listening to others and encouraging them, yet I can't even finish a sentence without interruption or seeing their eyes glaze over or have them change the topic of conversation?

Hope is gone and in its place is....emptiness.

Caged

2009-11-16T22:36:00.003-05:00

She wonders what there is to life,
Why her world is colorless - not clear, not opaque, but without color, hue, or shade.
Her thoughts dip and swirl, turn back upon themselves - chaotic, then still.

What if there is no point? What if this is all there is? Standing on the outside looking in, caged in a prison without color,hue, or shade.

Thumper, 1991-2009

2009-03-28T00:22:00.003-04:00

Our fur-baby, Thumper, passed away on Monday. Alternately known as Tumpy, Tumperoo, TumpTump, and Slobber Slinger, she was with me longer than I was married, and for all of Boy Wonder's life. She brought us great comfort; she loved tuna, turkey, and vienna sausages. She was afraid of mice. We miss her greatly, and still have moments of great sorrow; I think it will be some time before we are able to go through a day without coming near to tears. We laid her to rest under a tree in our yard where she will always be in the sun.

Miss you Tumpy.

Flu, Family & Forever Grateful

2009-03-06T08:04:00.002-05:00

So Boy Wonder has been battling the flu all week. I stayed home with him up until yesterday - he seemed to be doing much better, no fever, so we thought he'd be back up and at school by today. Staying home yesterday was just a precaution, or so we thought. Last night his fever returned to a new high of 102. So I bathed him in alcohol and continued to check his temp until about 1am. This morning he's back down to 99, thank goodness, but I'm staying home with him just in case. And of course now I'm fighting tooth-an-nail against getting the full-fledged flu. I've got the razor blades in the throat feeling, and a nasty chest-cough, which send my chiari over the edge and gives me a lovely moose-sized headache. So I'm investing heavily in DayQuil and praying for the best. I just don't have time to be sick.

So throughout all of this I make regular calls to mom and dad to let keep them updated on Boy Wonder. Nothing makes me feel as good in times like this as talking to one of them and knowing that they love and care about us. They have helped me raise my son, really, and I wouldn't trade anything for that. I try not to think about the day when I will be without them, but I know when that day comes they would not dream of leaving Jesus' side for anything.

I read this in a devotional yesterday:
"It is when heaven's heights are in full view that the gates of hell are the most persistent and full of deadly peril." Wow - what an image. The enemy's last ditch effort to run us down, take our joy, ruin our soul. But, as always, He has a response...

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." (Gal. 6:9)

2009-02-13T22:14:00.000-05:00

Maybe there really is hope.

Test time

2009-01-24T21:24:00.002-05:00

So next week I take my comprehensive exam. This is basically a 5-question test, applied in nature, with a 5-10 page requirement per question. I have been nearly crazy, tied in knots over this. It doesn't matter that I have a 4.0 on my classes; all I can think about is that I have only 2 chances to pass this test. If I don't pass it in those 2 shots I'm out of the program. That means $60,000 in debt and no degree; everyone at work knowing I failed. It makes me want to barf just thinking about it. But I have been praying diligently for wisdom, and reminding myself that He did literally save me from death those few years ago when the local docs nearly killed me. And He has brought me through every class, every assignment - He has earned every "A", not me. I ran across this verse this week on a devotional a sometimes read, and it has been a great comfort to me:

We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. II Corinthians 2:5

Regrets

2008-12-27T21:02:00.003-05:00

No matter how long I'm a single mom, there are still days when it feels like life is spiraling. I know it's most likely because Boy Wonder is still with the Toad and has been since Christmas morning. He was planning to come home tonight, but called and asked if he could stay until tomorrow night. He's having a good time with his cousins, so I see no harm in letting him stay.

I've just been thinking about the time wasted since I've been in school - the 2-3 years of time I couldn't give to Boy Wonder, the things we couldn't do together, the times I've been too tired to play or talk. Perhaps I should never have gone back to school. Boy Wonder is in 6th grade; in 6 more years he'll be off to college. These years can never be replaced.

Little Things to Treasure about Christmas

2008-12-20T23:06:00.006-05:00

1. Playing our Christmas cd’s for the first time of the season.

2. Putting our tree up and reminiscing about decorations.

3. Our annual tradition of shopping for one new ornament for the tree.

4. Buying gifts for others, and wrapping them.

5. Spending Christmas Eve with my family – all day!

6. Drinking coffee while my son opens gifts Christmas morning.

7. Our nativity set.

8. Listening to my dad read the Christmas Story.

9. The house with the giant Snoopy on the roof.

10. Christmas card lane (houses with giant Christmas cards in the yard).

11. Two weeks off work!

12. Our Santa collection.

13. Singing Christmas songs with Boy Wonder.

14. The Real Meaning of Christmas - celebrating the birth of the One who loves us most.

15. Contemplating what Mary's journey must have been like, thinking about how she must have felt, what she must have thought.

It may be time

2008-12-13T23:32:00.002-05:00

I'm not sure, but it may be time to begin praying for a...a...husba...companion. Maybe I'm closer to ready than ever before.

Preteen heartache

2008-12-13T07:35:00.004-05:00

So Boy Wonder is set to go with his dad yesterday, for the first time in several weeks. He didn't want to go for his last visit because Toad and his girlfriend were going to a big college championship football game and BW just doesn't care for football. He'd rather be drawing. But the even bigger reason is because he hates his dad's girlfriend. So needless to say, when I casually mentioned that they were going to her house for part of the weekend, he went ballistic. His chief complaints are that they are physically inappropriate in front of him (I'll spare you the details, but his new name for his dad is The Pervert - but keep that mum, please); that she calls BW Honey and "she's NOT my mom"; that the Toad doesn't pay any attention to him when they are together, watch movies that he isn't allowed to watch but make/encourage him to watch with them as a "family" (e.g. some of the more graphic PG-13 movies)...you get the picture. He's really, really angry over all of this. I've tried to talk to the Toad, but, as Boy Wonder said yesterday, he lies - says he won't do something and then does it anyway. And then he says "you know, mom, I'm surprised you haven't done something about it by now". He knows his mother well; screw with me and I can handle it, but mess with my Boy Wonder and I'll rip your head off and feed it to you for breakfast. Or start praying for you *sigh*.

Okay, I'm off to work on class schedules for Summer and Fall over coffee at my favorite place.

Apple Red

2008-11-12T22:17:00.002-05:00

Tonight was pedicure night, time for aching, dry feet to get revitalized and a change of polish. Since it's not summer and I'm not wearing sandals, I decided to try a new shade. Boy Wonder, sitting in the massage chair next to me, remarks:

"That's a new color, huh?

"Yeah, it is. What do you think?"

"It's okay. But it's not really you."

"So what color is me?"

"Red - apple red."

"So you think I'm an apple red kinda girl, huh?"

"Yeah"

How cool is that...Boy Wonder thinks I'm an Apple Red kinda mom.

Need I Say More?

2008-10-31T21:24:00.002-04:00

Off to class and other stuff

2008-10-30T20:54:00.002-04:00

So I'm off to Sarasota for class tomorrow, and return home on Sunday. I'm looking forward to the drive, listening to audio books. I have my routine - stop about half-way there at Dunkin' D's to get coffee and a muffin. Stay at the same hotel where I always stay - I'm very much a creature of habit. Visit the local Goodwill there, and the outlet mall - I love the Lane Bryant outlet and the Liz Claiborne shoe outlet. By Sunday I'll be ready to head home. Just wish Boy Wonder was going with me.

So, this week and last the students in the class I teach have been giving group presentations. They all had a copy of the dates of their presentations, and although we were off by a day or so because of a recent terroristic-type threat that resulted in canceled classes, one would assume that the students knew that, if they were supposed to present on Tuesday and classes canceled on Tuesday, that they should be ready to present at the next class meeting.

So one guy misses his group presentation. Just doesn't show. I'm prepared to give him an "F". Then he shows up at the next class, says he didn't realize they were presenting, and that he missed class because....okay, get ready...

his girlfriend's cat had to be put to sleep and she was really upset and crying.

Oh.

Kay.

Can you say the future of our nation is in the toilet?

Bucket List

2008-09-29T22:17:00.002-04:00

If you haven't seen the movie The Bucket List, it's pretty good. I don't care much for Jack Nicholson, but I do like my Morgan Freeman. Anyway, this is one of the assignments I have lined up for my class; we'll watch the movie and then they have to start their own Bucket List - i.e., things they want to do/accomplish before they kick the bucket. So I've been trying to think about my own list - things that I really want to do before going Home. I'll go ahead and preface my list by saying that living my life for Christ is a gimme - that goes without saying. But, I'm embarrassed to admit it, but my list is practically nonexistent. Which means I have no life. No dreams. Who knew I was so, um, missing? I guess I'll make it a work in progress. So far the only things I can come up with are:

1. Ride in a hot air balloon
2. Learn to knit & crochet to make blankets & sweaters for charity.
3. Lose (none-of-your-business-how-many) pounds.
4. Play the piano more - or rather, again.

About studying...

2008-09-28T17:45:00.001-04:00

2008-09-27T16:58:00.001-04:00

Hearts bid farewell to one of the real ones.

Break time

2008-09-21T12:41:00.004-04:00

Okay, I am so tired of reviewing accreditation websites (yes, for yet another paper/assignment). So it's break time.

I am so excited! I just - and I mean within the last 5 minutes - ordered myself an ipod! I've been waiting to find them on sale and with the new version of nano out now, the older version - the one I want - is now about $50 off. So I ordered it. The only thing I don't like is that I can't download free audiobooks from my library on it - ipods aren't compatible - but that's okay. I can fill it up with my favorite tunes and will enjoy it just the same.

Let's see...what else. Oh. My Dad has shingles - first time ever. He says he's not in too much pain, and we are praying that it doesn't get any worse. Bless his heart, he always gets the odd stuff. But thank goodness he went on to the doctor the first day when he woke up with welts on his face. She told him he was smart to do so, since shingles and liver transplant patients are not a good mix. Sometimes it strikes me anew how much I love my parents. Yeah, I'm the kid they can't get rid of, calling constantly to check on them, get their input on life decisions, etc. But at least I draw the line at asking for money, so that ought to be a plus, right? Sometimes I wonder why they haven't moved away or changed their phone number, though, so I'll stop bothering them lol.

I realized this week that I've fallen back into the old trap of "life begins when I get 'X' finished" - the same thing I warn my students against. I'm constantly reminding them that life doesn't start when they graduate college, get a "real job", get married, etc. Life is Now. I've been putting much of life - of joy - on hold until I get finished with school. Which, by the way, will be in the spring if I get the classes I need next semester. But then it will be putting on hold until the dissertation gets done. And I'm tired of it and the Boy is tired of it. If I'm not careful he'll be on his way to college before I get my act together. So, once again I'm trying to choose my attitude, to live life to the fullest every day. But it's a constant struggle in choice and determination.

Guess I need to get back to the books. Oh, did I mention that one of my students who just graduated was arrested a few weeks back for murder? Yeah. Creepy.

If it's not one thing, it's Fay...

2008-08-24T21:35:00.004-04:00

The vicious wench left her mark...

2008-08-22T19:35:00.001-04:00

The students are back and classes are going full-tilt. The first week is always exhausting, so I am so glad it's the weekend.

One of the faculty members in our department had an interesting, albeit frightening, experience this week. One of the students in her class was exhibiting some challenging behaviors in class - speaking out of turn, sleeping in class after she threatened to put him out for sleeping, questioning her seriousness in front of the class. It was obvious to her that he had some problems, but when talking with him one on one after class, he revealed that he is "mentally disturbed" and had attempted suicide several times in the past. He wanted her to call his parents. Long story short, she talked with our counseling office and student affairs and learned that there had already been problems in the residence hall (after only a week)...he was already on their radars. Turns out today that he made a bomb threat last night and is now hospitalized and will not be returning to school, at least not here.

Thinking back over the last few years' tragedies at colleges and universities around the nation, I am thankful that the instructor was aware, not merely chalking his behavior up to some wise-butt freshman.

Middle school arrives

2008-08-05T21:11:00.002-04:00

My Boy is no longer a baby, no longer in elementary school. He started 6th grade yesterday - officially a middle schooler, changing classes, changing teachers, the whole enchilada. He likes it so far; actually I think the changing may be good for him. He gets bored easily when not challenged, so the change of pace is helpful. I have battled for years with teachers who wouldn't let him draw in class - he needs to draw like mere mortal needs to breathe - and I'd try to tell them that he pays attention much better if they would let him draw. He can hear you while drawing, and actually often focuses much better. But sometimes Teacher has to learn the hard way. I often wanted to tell them that if they'd push him a little more, challenge him more, he wouldn't get distracted or bored and wouldn't need to draw. Anyway, off subject I guess.

So he gets up yesterday morning and just as we head out the door he just happens to mention "oh yeah, mom, we need to get me some new tennis shoes...these are too tight". Well of course. He's been in sandals all summer, so how would I know his tennies no longer fit? So off we go to the local shoe outlet to measure the foot, pick out shoes. So. Size 12. Men's. He's only 11. This time next year I'll only need to ask for the box, no shoe please. At least he doesn't have to have a wide width, thank goodness.

So next week the university comes to life. There's always something exciting about the start of fall semester. We'll get to hear from the new president and our new dean (my boss)and gear up for the students coming in the next week for the start of classes. Where did the summer go?

2008-08-04T00:35:00.001-04:00

2008-08-01T23:37:00.002-04:00

My grandmother isn't doing well; she was taken to hospice today. She's in her 90's and, up until a few months ago she still mowed her own lawn. She has always been fiercely independent, strong-willed and, unfortunately, possessing a somewhat critical spirit. But we love her anyway, as families do. I had the opportunity to see her for a bit last night, and I'm glad I went. She's just a mere shadow of the woman she's always been. She's tired of fighting, and ready to see her Lord and those loved ones who've gone before her. She's essentially aware of what's going on, although she has some lapses of memory. My mother made the comment tonight that she wondered if Grandma realized when she left today that she was leaving her home for most likely the last time. Her body is just wearing out, but thankfully she isn't in a lot of pain. But it stings my heart, knowing she's leaving us, and knowing I could have been a better granddaughter. I think of the stories and family history that will escape with her, things I never got around to asking her. I think about the years since my grandfather died and how strong she's been; I've thought often over the years about her wandering around her house alone, wondering if she ever shared the frustrations or fears that I sometimes have.

Grandma was never overtly affectionate, but I knew she loved us all. I remember playing cards and yahtzee and checkers with her; she fostered my love of jigsaw puzzles. Long hot summers shelling peas and shucking corn, swinging in the thick-slatted wooden swing on the front porch, listening to the creak, creak, creak of the metal chains. Lying in bed at night with the bed vibrating from the train passing by just outside the house. The summer they painted their house and the lovebugs got stuck in the paint and they had to paint part of it again. The way the living room dips down and you have to walk carefully so you don't trip. The too-hot heat of the gas heaters on a cold winter day. The red plastic trash cans with gold glitter embedded in them. The way she cooked three times a day for my granddaddy - never cereal, a sandwich or leftovers.

I love you grandma, and I'm sorry I wasn't a better granddaughter. I'll miss you, but give granddaddy and Jesus a great big hug for me.

With this ring...

2008-07-27T12:05:00.004-04:00

When I was in my 30's I treated myself to a naval piercing. It was my only piercing other than ears, where I have two in each ear and at one time had a third in one ear (that one came out though, because it just wasn't comfortable). At any rate, I'm not sure why I got the piercing, except that it made me feel good and I loved it. So fast forward a few years to 36, the year my divorce became final, and I decided to remove the ring. I don't know why, though most likely I was so deeply depressed (and sick with Chiari) that I just didn't find joy in it anymore. Over the years the scar has always been there, a symbol perhaps of youth long gone, of a woman who wanted to be sexy, to live a little on the wild side, to be just a little different.

Yesterday I discovered that the piercing has never healed - i.e., it never closed. So just out of curiosity I dug out my old ring and, sure enough, it slipped right in. And I immediately lost the captive ball that keeps the ring in, so I had to stop by the tattoo shop to replace it. To my surprise, the several customers there were all women around my age - late 30's, early 40's. Some were getting tattoos, some were getting piercings.

So what motivates women my age to do such things? Women who have children, jobs, are probably at the midpoint of their lives? Is it an attempt to recapture our youth - our version of middle-aged men chasing 20-yr-olds, wearing too much cologne, way too tan, and too much gold? I don't think so, at least I hope not.

For me, this ring represents just a little of who I am. With this ring, I am a little daring, a little different, a little sassy, a lot independent. With this ring, I have a little secret that most don't know - that I am a woman of sensuality, joy, and surprise.

A child's heartbreak

2008-07-20T22:29:00.003-04:00

Yeah, so two posts in one day. Weird, I know.

So what do you say when your only child comes home and cries because his dad pays more attention to his girlfriend that him? When he says he has to ask his dad a question four times before his dad will answer him? When his dad and his girlfriend sleep in the same bed in the same room with my son and his cousins?

Too bad I didn't move half-way across the country when he was a baby. Would the not knowing your father be worse than, well, knowing him and feeling like you never measure up, like you're never good enough?

Mamma Mia!

2008-07-20T20:08:00.005-04:00

Oh-oh-oh....I have a new favorite movie! Just got home from seeing Mamma Mia and it was great! I love the way Meryl Streep's character is this woman "of a certain age", a baby boomer, who single handedly raised her daughter, living on this breathtakingly beautiful Greek island, running a charming, historic old inn. Her character is full of life, working hard but yet and still full of life in the way you bite into a full, ripe plum on a warm sunny summer day, juices flowing down your chin and onto your neck and you tilt your head back and laugh. enjoying the sensation.

I loved it so much I went right out and bought the soundtrack. And when the movie hits the shelves, I'll buy it first thing, though I think it's best on the big screen. I may even go see it at the theater again..

Mamma Mia!

2008-07-01T22:41:00.000-04:00

Eleven

2008-06-29T22:18:00.002-04:00

So today was my Boy's birthday - his 11th. We didn't have a party (sorry family) because with school and new-student orientations at work this month, I'm just wiped out and haven't had a chance to clean house in, okay, months if you must know. I did manage to make a swipe at the toilet so mom and dad wouldn't be afraid something would reach up and bite their butts if they had to go. Next year I owe him a big family party. He's very family-conscious, and since his dad and I are not together, I make every effort to surround him with other family members to lessen his feelings of being different.

I bought a few toys, but his main gift from me was an iPod. I know some think I give him too much, and perhaps I do. But he's a good kid and I do work hard to instill values and morals, and am working on the getting him to work hard part. I don't give him everything he wants, but let's face it, he's my only kid and I'm pretty strict on him. And I wanted to get it for him, so is there anything wrong with that? Hope not. He knows he will have to earn the money to buy his downloads...kinda like dad giving my my first car but I had to pay the insurance and gas, I suppose.

So my Boy has returned to his grandparents, and I'm off to work tomorrow. He goes Wednesday with his dad and that family to celebrate his b-day at the beach, and truth be told, that's the b-day he really looks forward to all year. I can't take everyone to a condo at the beach like his dad, and I can't afford all the other things he does, but that's okay...most of the time I don't feel competitive anymore. Because when it's all said and done, I'm where Home is, and he always comes home.

New space

2008-06-27T19:04:00.004-04:00

Okay, so I moved into my new office yesterday...well, I'm almost moved in. Gotta get my computer moved and go through my filing cabinet and hopefully get rid of most of the junk in there. Anyway, the move was not easy for a variety of reasons, but I finally decided to make the plunge since (1) that was the last thing our dept. head suggested I do, and (2) it will allow my assistant to move into my old office so she can work on things like budget, training, scheduling, etc. - things she could use some privacy when working on. It will give her the opportunity to grow in some important ways.

New class starting today *sigh*...no rest for the trying-to-get-ahead. I would love a week at the beach, listening only to the sound of the surf, watching the sun rise and later set, with a long nap and a good book in between. Or maybe the mountains, walking the backroads, scrounging craft stores, and searching for a waterfall.

2008-06-21T01:00:00.003-04:00

Good day today, after a particularly trying week. Picked up my Boy last night; he'll be home until Sunday. Slept the sweet sleep of a mom whose baby is back in the nest.

Finally got the grass cut, so I can at least find the house now. We went to see Iron Man - pretty good movie, btw - and then on to get haircuts, since we both looked a bit shaggy. Tomorrow we'll either sleep in or get up early to hit some yard sales...depends on how we feel first thing in the a.m. Then the afternoon will be filled with work, getting new freshmen registered for fall classes.

Boring? Maybe. Do I care? Nope. It's just good to have my kid home for a few days.

2008-06-16T19:52:00.001-04:00

"slu-u-r-r-r-p"

(The sound of a really sucky Monday.)

Home again

2008-06-15T20:32:00.002-04:00

Ahh, home again from Sarasota. Tired, but glad to be home. My Boy is gone fishing, so having him home is the only thing that would make being home better.

Class was really good; the instructor was very encouraging, and has high expectations - but she really helps us live up to those expectations. Lots of important talk about the Academy, about the responsibility of having a doctorate, and being a serious academic. Good stuff to inspire some introspection.

So the email goes out from the dean tomorrow regarding my appointment as interim. We'll see how that goes - I know of one individual who will likely hit the ceiling. She dislikes me because not only does she have her doctorate, but I'm well, you know, white. Trust me - it isn't my imagination; she has repeatedly told a close friend and colleague of mine that we can't be friends because she (my friend) is black and I am white. How sad...I feel sorry for her. Anyway, I anticipate flack from her. But I'm leaving it to Him to handle.

Surprise

2008-06-12T21:25:00.002-04:00

Today was a real surprise. To make a long story short, the director of our department is retiring - his van pulls out Monday. And we have a new dean of our college coming the last of July. There has been talk of not replacing our director and merging our department with another one, and that's fine - it could be a really good move. But today, the Assistant Dean appointed me as interim director until the new dean arrives and can make a decision about the merger. It could be 30-45 days, or even longer if she doesn't make a decision right away. And there's no additional salary for this temporary assignment, although there will be some travel money available for conference attendance, which is a sweet deal. But wow - what an honor and privilege to be asked to do this. I am humbled, excited, and at moments feel like I need to barf. I know that this is God's doing - I could never have gotten this far on my own. I pray that He keeps that ever present in my mind, and that He will give me wisdom in everything.

So I'm off to Sarasota for school tomorrow through Sunday. I dread the $ spent on gas, and I'd really rather stay home (no big surprise there), but this is one more class almost over, and one more residency fulfilled.

My boy came home for the night on Tuesday, and I took yesterday off. We saw KungFu Panda, which is really cute and funny, btw. Then it was back to Ninnie and P-pa's so I could work on my final paper. He's gone fishing with his dad this weekend, and fishing with P-pa on Sunday. And here I sit missing him like crazy. I am very ready for him to come home.

Okay, I'm tired and still need to get a little laundry done for the trip. I won't get my grass cut before I leave, which is the pits. I may not be able to find the house when I get back...it may take machete's and an Indian tracker to find it.

--bru

2008-06-10T01:52:00.002-04:00

We've been interviewing for a new position at work; today was the second of three days of interviews. You'd think it would be easy - a simple matter of selecting the best candidate, the most qualified, and making an offer. But when you happen to know so many of the candidates, it's a difficult choice. Knowing you can only choose one, and someone is bound to be disappointed. Some are just beginning their careers, and this would be a significant step for them. Others need to change positions because the work demands are more conducive to their life and family situations. It isn't easy. Guess that's why I get paid the (not-so-big) bucks.

I'm really missing my kid tonight. Saw him for a few hours yesterday when he returned from a week at the beach with the outlaws. He was tan and smelled like sunshine and healthy boy. It was difficult for both of us when I took him to my parents' last night; he loves to spend time with them, but he's missing mom and home. His P-pa is teaching him how to cook, and he and his Ninnie talk art and superheros and watch movies. I long to be able to spend lazy summer days with him, though, and so it's tough.

Okay, enough whining for now...it's late and I'm tired.

Never as good as mom's

2008-06-07T22:15:00.004-04:00

Mom used to make this dessert when we were kids...we never knew what it was called so we all just called The Pink Stuff. It's made with cool whip, strawberry jello (the two things that hold the world together) as well as cottage cheese and fruit cocktail. Probably sounds gross, but we ate it like crazy. My oldest baby brother *loved* it - I think it was his favorite. Anyway, I made some tonight for the first time in many years. And - you guessed it - it isn't anywhere near as good as when mom made it. What is it about a mother's touch that makes everything taste better, feel better, get well faster? Even now when I don't feel well, just cool touch of her hand against my face feeling for fever immediately warps me back to childhood, and I know everything will be okay.

Mom got good news this week. The CT scan she had, looking for any additional cancer, came back clear. The doctors still caution that it's possible, once they get in to do the reconstruction, that cancer too small to detect on the scan could be present. But I'm fairly sure they are just covering all their bases. They've assured her that they see nothing to make them suspect its return, but they are just letting her know just in case. She has a great doctor; I thank God for his diligence, and for His mercy on the scan results.

It seems like cancer is running rampant - every time I turn around I hear of someone else battling it. One of my graduate assistant's just lost a grandfather to it. She got a tattoo on her wrist with a C-shaped symbol and the work "fight" in honor of his battle. It reminded me anew that my mom has battled this horrid disease three four times now. How do you live with that hanging over your head, mama? How do you face the day without gripping fear? How does daddy stay so strong for you, doing things that are gross, difficult, inconvenient? Not all men would take care of a woman like he takes care of her. How does he not live in constant fear that one day she won't be so blessed?

Sometimes you can't get away from life

2008-06-02T14:28:00.003-04:00

Ever just want to run away, distancing yourself from life as fast and as far as possible? Go where It - Life - can't find you? I'm there, totally.

Decided to take today off because I couldn't sleep last night, finally dozing off somewhere between 3:30-4:00a.m. Worked the weekend on orientations for new students, then all day Sunday on school stuff. Should have taken some time off in early May to recoup and regenerate, but there are alot of changes going on at work and others taking off so I really needed to hang in there. Really regretting that now, not having my batteries recharged. Anyway, slept till nearly noon, up now with a lap full of journal articles I need to compile into a paper that's due tonight. I'm really, really, ready to be finished with school. Two more semesters after summer...got to hang on.

Then I get a call today - Mom has to have more surgery to repair some exposed bone in her mouth. She's already been through two surgeries in about as many years for oral cancer, the most recent one in the last few months. Then we almost lost her because of some crazy incident with her blood sugar, then the hospital tried to kill her with some bizarre fungal infection in her blood. Haven't gone into it here because I just can't...holding on with a thread as it is; and no one reads this anyway, so why bother. Anyway, now there's some jawbone exposed and they are going to have to go back in and cover it, hopefully as an outpatient. But they went ahead and moved up the CT scan they had scheduled for later in the summer to make sure there's no more cancer. I don't know how much more she can stand. And I know I'm at my limit. This is it. No more.

Oh, and did I mention I accidentally erased a bunch of pictures I took? Yeah, I'm just that smart.

2008-06-01T23:04:00.002-04:00

Just finished watched Under the Tuscan Sun...it's been several years since I first saw it. It is, without doubt, the best movie ever...sigh

School sucks

2008-05-16T20:25:00.003-04:00

I am really having a hard time giving a big fat rat's butt about school. I am burned out, sick of research, papers, reading...everything. *sigh* School sucks.

Crazy

2008-05-13T00:05:00.003-04:00

Okay, I think I'm officially crazy. I need to take a few days off. Told my secretary I was going to take the rest of the week off, except for a meeting I have to attend tomorrow. I'm tired, burned out, need to get some things done around the house, need to get ahead on school stuff. But here it is, just after midnight and I've just handed in two assignments that were due tonight, and I just don't think I can stay home tomorrow. Or the rest of the week, for that matter. And if I don't take time off now it will be July before I get the chance to again, and probably not much of a chance then since my dept. head is retiring and there will be a change in command.

So yeah, it's official - I'm nuts. Certifiable. Anybody got a tranquilizer?

Colors

2008-02-03T15:46:00.001-05:00

I've just finished painting my son's room. I let him choose the colors. He chose blue and red....think Spiderman. It's difficult to let go and let him choose the colors, particularly since they are so very far from what I would have chosen. But he's 10, so I figure it's time to let him have some say-so in decorating his room. You know, that whole letting them create their own space kind of thing. I told him he has to love it until he's 40.

The difficulty in releasing control of this whole paint-thing reminds me that I'm not spending enough time with my heavenly Father. I've been terribly remiss in meeting Him in His word, finding it difficult to let go of the control of my time to spend in His presence. I stay tired all the time, constantly moving from one thing to the next and always adding one more item to my mental "to-do" list. But I am reminded that if I don't release myself to Him, I will end up coloring my life with colors I really don't want. And while it's true that His coloring of my life may not always be what I expect, the result is always one of beauty.

Okay, off to the next thing, which I think is laundry. Oh, and the kitchen needs cleaning, too.

Screams

2008-01-11T21:13:00.000-05:00

Sometimes she just wants to scream
Until her throat turns raw and her voice disappears.
Life's walls crumble, shrink, close in on her.
She's tired, worn, aged time and beyond.

Nowhere to turn.
No arms in which to find solace.
No heart to match hers, beat for beat.
No breath to feel upon her cheek.
No hands to catch the tears she wishes she was able to shed.

No one to keep her from screaming.

Not picture-perfect

2007-12-15T11:04:00.001-05:00

I went to a Christmas party yesterday at the home of a colleague. She and her husband have been married only a couple of years, and the bought their current home shortly after marrying. The house nice, and their decorating is beautiful. Very "in". Even their Christmas decorations looked like something out of a store display - a tall, slim tree with coordinating ornaments, beautiful decorative odds-n-ends carefully placed around the room. I thought I might be a little envious. But as nice as it was, I realized it really does look like a store display. Very much a we-worked-really-hard-to-coordinate-everything look. But then I came home and looked at our mantle full of santas and the piano full of snowmen that people have given us over the years, and my tree with multi-colored lights and mostly one-of-a-kind ornaments, some handed down to me from my childhood that were made by my mother's own hand, some made by my son, some given to us by others who have been a part of our lives for a season. I thought about our newly-started tradition this year of shopping together for one (okay, three this year) new ornament each year. And I decided I wouldn't trade our decorations, our home, for any picture-perfect home. Ours is filled with memories, tradition, and love. It doesn't matter that everything doesn't match, because our lives aren't coordinated or picture-perfect. Our lives are a patchwork of people and experiences, and our home reflects that. I have sometimes regretted that our house isn't "complete" - there's painting to be done, decorating to do, yard projects to tackle. But I occurred to me that, like our lives, our home is a work-in-progress. And just maybe the joy of the journey is the point - not the finality of the destination.

Another One Down

2007-12-11T21:36:00.000-05:00

Education Law is done. Complete. Finished as of about an hour ago. This is one of those classes that I almost don't give a rat's behind if I get an A or not - I'm just glad to be done. But, by tomorrow morning I'll be pulling my hair out wondering if I held on to my A. This prof was picky. I am glad it's over, though.

Four more semesters to go. I'd better make a decision on my dissertation. But for now, I'm going to vegetate for a week before I start thinking about next term.

Part of Who I Am

2007-12-01T20:42:00.000-05:00

I have entered a writing competition for academic advisors. I haven't told anyone, because I don't want to face the humiliation if I don't win. I am including my entry here because I think it expresses a little bit of who I am and why I love my work.

Describe your most memorable advisee and tell what you learned from him/her and how it affected you.

It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to delve into the hundreds of students who have touched my life and choose just one as influencing me most.

There was the young man who had suffered a brain trauma as a child, whose steely determination to earn a degree was fueled by the desire to do more with his life than bag groceries.

The young man confined to a wheelchair, his appearance unkempt, his speech slurred and difficult to understand and who sometimes offended my sense of smell. Many times he came to me with tears in his eyes because he simply did not think he would make it to graduation.

The young woman who shared her story with me – a story of abduction and rape just a few months prior – the story that gives every parent nightmares. She was putting her life back together one piece at the time, struggling to have the courage to go from her car to her front door after dark.

The undergraduate peer mentor who later became my first graduate assistant/freshman advisor who decided not to pursue a career as a therapist and is now one of the top advisors on our campus. She still comes to me for advice, to vent her frustrations and share her joys.

The student assistant-then-graduate-assistant who sang show tunes for me when times were tough and we were all exhausted from the frantic pace of advising and registration.

The graduate assistant/advisor who cried when it was time for her to leave us because she had to move on to a practicum for her degree.

The bi-polar young man covered in tattoos who refused to take his medications and who recently confessed that he had been high most of the time. He has made much trouble for himself, but I refuse to give up hope that he will one day understand his value and fulfill his potential, for he is so very intelligent. He is my most recent heartbreak.

Perhaps, though, the face that stands out the most is Sarah. Sarah was somehow tough and vulnerable at the same time. I first met Sarah when she was a freshman undeclared major. She was fiercely independent, often working two and three jobs to support herself. Many of our conversations centered on what she should do with her life; all that she knew for certain was that she wanted to be married and have children. Her degree was “just in case”. Because of her love for children, Sarah was certain she should become a teacher. When she finally took the plunge and declared Education, she found the classes boring and not at all to her liking. Sarah spent a number of years bouncing around from one major to another, never finding her calling. I watched Sarah struggle with establishing her independence from her parents, hugged her tight when her parents threatened to cut off her finances in an effort to get her to acquiesce on various issues, celebrated with her when she became engaged and later held her hand when she broke the engagement. But I suppose the conversation that is ever-present in my mind was the millionth discussion of what she should do with her life. I remember asking her what was the one thing she loved to do most and she replied “shopping, and decorating my apartment”. My immediate and frighteningly casual reply was “so how about interior design?” Sarah fell in love with the program, finally finding her niche. She is now a successful interior designer in Atlanta. This was the child who plucked at my heartstrings, who became my own. And it was with this young woman that the realization – and perhaps fear – of the awesome influence and responsibility that rests with us as advisors. One simple question, one casual suggestion, and this young woman discovered her passion.

These are the voices that fill my heart, the faces I see in my mind’s-eye. They have humbled me, inspired me, and challenged me; they give me hope and bring me tears, frustration, and laughter.

They are my gift.

Untitled

2007-11-29T22:30:00.000-05:00

She feels the grayness reaching toward her,
Feathering all around her like fog on a damp winter morn.
It beckons her, pulls at her, embraces her as if she were a love lost;
In secret it bleeds the light from her very center.
With a sigh of resignation, defeat, despair,
She turns a faint, pale cheek to the shadow from which she cannot escape.

It's That Time Again

2007-11-22T00:27:00.000-05:00

Yes, it's time for the obligatory list of things I'm thankful for which, although certainly not comprehensive, is a good start:

*My salvation.

*My son, who chose to spend Thanksgiving with his "new cousins" this year instead of going to his dad's.

*My family, who will gather here at my home tomorrow to celebrate the holiday.

*Our home; we've made our home in a variety of houses, but this one belongs to us (and the bank, of course!)

*The team of people I work with; we are more than a team, we're family. As a single-parent household, one of the things my son struggles with is that we aren't a "normal" family, and we have that conversation periodically. I always tell him that we make our family from those around us, not just biological relatives. God sends us some really cool people to call our family; some stay for awhile, and some stay even longer.

*Our new a/c! Don't laugh 'til you're going through the big M...then come tell me how you love your air conditioner. This puppy grows icicles on the furniture.

*That my parents tell me they love me almost every time we talk by phone.

*God's gift of wisdom and direction in school; without it, I'd be sunk!

*My support network for school...my real and extended fam that supports and encourages me.

*Laughter. Some of you may remember my over-sized brain and the year I went without being able to laugh because of the pain. I love to laugh...it's the very best medicine ever! People who make me laugh can win me over quickly.

*I'm very thankful for my friend who's letting her mustache grow *lol*. You know who you are....hang in there girl, you'll have a brass set when this is over.

*Although I'm thankful for both my brothers, of course, I'm especially thankful or the one who makes me laugh until my head pounds and I can't catch my breath.

*Crayons.

*Laptops, mine specifically.

*Coffee...chocolate velvet or southern pecan. Mmmmm.

*My cat. She's 16, drools like a dog and sheds even worse. But she loves me.

I suppose I could go on, but the hour is late and I'm quite tired. I am thankful, though, to have recently had my 43rd birthday, and that I'm still around to enjoy it.

Best of wishes this Thanksgiving season

Psalm 118:29
Oh, give thanks to the LORD, for He is good! For His mercy endures forever.

Philippians 4:6
Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God;

Colossians 3:17
And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.

Small-town girl

2007-10-17T22:15:00.002-04:00

I am not a big-city kinda girl. Never have been, and it turns out that hasn't changed. I'm on the road for work, a conference in Baltimore, MD. The flight went fine, thanks to lots of prayer. But the city is, well, city-ish....dirty, crowded, and lots of traffic, just like in the movies. The hotel, a well-known chain costing $164 per night, SAID they had wireless. Turns out that only applies to the lobby. Otherwise it's $9.95 per night. At 4 nights that's more than I pay for a month's access at home! Then I get back to my room after dinner and my key doesn't work. Back down 8 floors to get it re-keyed. Then I have to go up to the 12th floor to find a vending machine so I can get a soda. No munchies, mind you, which I like to keep in my room in case my blood sugar drops. So it's back down to the lobby to pay $1.25 for a 50-cent pack of crackers. So I get to my room, finally manage to get the internet connected (we talked them into one night of access at no charge) and the heat kicks on. But it's not cold. Well, unless you count the fact I had the a/c on 60. But it's not cold, and there's no way to turn the heat off. So I call the front desk. She's going to send the engineer up. So I get dressed again, having already gotten in my jammies. Then she calls to say he turned the heat off from wherever he is. (side note: it makes me uncomfortable that someone I don't know and can't see can monkey with my heater. I mean, he could cook me whilst I sleep.)

Now, I'm not naturally a complainer. I can pretty much chalk anything up to "everybody makes mistakes". And I could generally overlook most of this. But the internet thing really burns me up, especially since I had my secretary specifically inquire about it. I mean, I could understand if I was staying in Podunk Motel paying $40 a night. But pleeeeze.

So take note, guys, you must specify free wireless access IN THE ROOM. Who knew?

--bru, small-town and loving it

2007-10-17T22:15:00.001-04:00

Another First

2007-09-29T21:42:00.000-04:00

I held my first yard sale today, with the generous help of my mother, sister-in-law, and son. Now this may not sound like a big deal, and it isn't really, but it is of significance. Not too many years ago I would have said I couldn't do something as simple as holding a yard sale. It would've been too overwhelming to get stuff together, price it, borrow tables, put an add in the paper, put out signs, and get it out to sell. The significance is not the sale itself, but the fact that I undertook one more thing I'd never done before. I've spent too much of my life afraid to do something, afraid of failure or ridicule. These days I find myself taking on one new thing now and again, just walking through it as if I knew what I was doing - this is so foreign to me.

So who is that masked woman?

A Day in the Life of a Real Mom

2007-09-27T21:09:00.000-04:00

This is my day in a nutshell.

I must be invisible

2007-09-22T15:05:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I'm standing in line at Penney's this morning with my arms loaded with clothes (they had a great sale); the woman in front of me was waiting for her shopping companion to return to the counter with another item. This guy walks right past me with his daughter and stands there like I don't even exist. I couldn't believe it! Now I'm fairly certain, judging by my reflection in the mirror, that I'm not too small to miss. I'm rather much on the can't-miss-me side. So I can only conclude that I must be disappearing, becoming invisible, but only for moments, for the cashier certainly saw me so as to ring up my purchases and take my money.

I can see it now - I'll begin to disappear only occasionally, hopefully not at fully embarrassing moments, and then it will happen more and more until I'll vanish completely. So what's a gal to do when she begins fading, seeping into the woodwork, falling between the cracks, draining away to nothing?

2007-08-20T21:26:00.001-04:00

My dad turns 69 tomorrow. We celebrated yesterday with lunch at a local favorite chinese restaurant.

It's hard to believe my dad is 69 and my mother is not far behind; in my mind they will always be 35 - 40. We've very nearly lost both of them to various health situations in the past few years. But thankfully, they keep fighting the good fight.

I suppose I'm an oddity, but I actually enjoy spending time with my parents. It wasn't always that way, of course, but time has brought us close and they are alot of fun to be with. My dad has always been an admirable kind of man; expecting much and giving more. He has a keen sense of humor - he loves a good laugh - he tells great stories, and he knows how to do stuff. Pictures of my mother as a young woman have always reminded me of Elizabeth Taylor. My mother was beautiful - she still is - and she captured the heart of that red-headed young man in a very short time. They were married after dating only 6 weeks.

I owe much of who I am to this man and this woman, and I am forever greatful. Happy Birthday Daddy.

If We Are the Body

2007-08-15T22:10:00.000-04:00

One of my favorite songs by Casting Crowns:

It's crowded in worship today
As she slips in trying to fade into the faces
The girls teasing laughter is carrying farther than they know
Farther than they know

Chorus:
But if we are the body
Why aren't His arms reaching?
Why aren't His hands healing?
Why aren't His words teaching?
And if we are the body
Why aren't His feet going?
Why is His love not showing them there is a way?
There is a way

A traveler is far away from home
He sheds his coat and quietly sinks into the back row
The weight of their judgmental glances
Tells him that his chances are better out on the road

Jesus paid much too high a price
For us to pick and choose who should come
And we are the body of Christ

Jesus is the way

You can hear it here:

98.5%

2007-08-14T19:49:00.000-04:00

For those of you who haven't had to listen to me sweat bullets all summer, I've just completed a Quantitative Research class. In real-people language that's a statistics class. This is THE class that kept me from returning to school for so many years. I had to take stats twice in undergrad (failed it the first time) and once in graduate school. I hated it, despised it. That was back before Excel and other nifty statistical computer programs were available to mere mortals; back when one had to calculate mile-long formulas by hand, with only the aid of a calculator. Thanks to my brother, I discovered the wonders of Excel in statistical calculations this time around.

So I spent a week working on a 300-point final exam, probably around 24 hours in all; it was the majority of our grade. The reflective part (the paper sans the excel data sheets) was somewhere around 17 pages. I submitted it days early, then continued to read and re-read it; I ended up revising and submitting it 4 times.

I opened my email tonight and there it was: The Graded Final With Feedback. I was almost afraid to open it, but the suspense was killing me. 295 points out of 300. Final grade, 98.5%.

God is good; He is awesome. Without His help and inspiration this would not have been possible.

Psalm 9:1-2:

1 I will praise you, O LORD, with all my heart;
I will tell of all your wonders.

2 I will be glad and rejoice in you;
I will sing praise to your name, O Most High.

--bru

You made it

2007-07-28T13:44:00.005-04:00

As I watched you walk down the aisle and across the stage I couldn't help but be proud of you. And as I watched Mom and Dad beaming up at you and saw the tears Mom tried to hold back, my heart felt like it would burst. I know the decision to return to school was difficult, and I have no doubt there were days when all you wanted to do was throw your hands up and tell them what they could do with their degree. But then, every A you earned, every class you completed felt good. And every one chipped away just a little more at The Degrees until that was it; you were done; all was complete. I am proud of the sacrifices you and your wife made while you traveled this path; never forget that this is a significant accomplishment. I am reminded of a quote by T. E. Lawrence,

"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds awake to find that it was vanity; But dreamers of day are dangerous men, that they may act their dreams with open eyes to make it possible."

May you forever remain a dreamer of the day.

Another quote

2007-07-02T00:03:00.000-04:00

I love quotes that 'speak to me'...they are a gift.

From "The Starter Wife":

"You will travel through the valley of rejection, you will live in the land of morning mists, and you will find your home, though it will not be where you left it."

Powerfully true.

Double digits

2007-06-26T23:24:00.001-04:00

My not-so-little boy turns 10 this weekend. We celebrated - low key - last weekend with just family. He doesn't think it's a celebration without the fam. He loves family, craves family. I noticed he hugged my oldest brother good-bye for the first time ever, I think. He admitted once that he's a little afraid of him because my brother never has anything to do with him. Frankly I don't know if he's ever even spoken more than two or three words to him. It's difficult to have a relationship with someone when you only see them 2 or 3 times per year. My youngest brother and his wife are another story, though - my boy is at home when he's with them.

Anyway, I was remembering when my sunshine was just a baby, how cute and cuddly he was, how he loved for mama to rock him and sing to him, how we spent hours reading his favorite books. And if I've recited The Gingerbread Man and Three Billy Goats Gruff and Little Red Riding Hood one time, I've recited them a thousand times. The mornings on the way to school with him in the backseat and me singing songs and telling stories. Dancing in the kitchen, holding him in my arms. Marching around the den listening to the elephant song from The Jungle Book soundtrack until he fell asleep. Time really does fly when you're having fun.

Now my sunshine is nearly as tall as I, still with gorgeous eyes and a winning smile. He has a great sense of humor, like my brother and my dad...he loves to laugh. We constantly try to sneak up on each other at home to try and scare the other; he has finally learned to walk softly and creep up on me. And he laughs. He has my mother's artistic bent, and I hope he will have my brother's musical ability.

Just the other day he told me he'll always be my baby, no matter how old he is. He'll always be my sunshine, lighting my days and filling my heart with joy.

Happy Birthday, Sunshine, from Mama with all my love.

Time for a little Whine and Cheese

2007-06-16T10:15:00.000-04:00

Okay, Whine Alert.....I'm going to have a small pity-party, so if you're not inclined to listen, now would be a good time to click on.

I started my next course on Monday - Quantitative Statistics (ooh, yuck!). The worst part is that I still have 2 weeks (3 counting this current one) left on my other class. So far this week I have read 9 chapters in 3 different books and submitted 5 assignments; I still have 4 more to submit by midnight tomorrow night. So somewhere in and around today's agenda of working orientation and shopping for Father's Day, I simply must make a significant dent in all of this. And tomorrow I have to work the nursery at church and then off to spend the afternoon with my family for Father's day. And lest you ponder 'what has the old girl been doing all week', I have been diligently working on the reading all week. Every night. Well, except for Wednesday because I kept falling asleep while reading.

So I'm feeling alot pressured and a little sorry for myself today. Or maybe just that all of this is futile. I would so much rather be working in my yard or painting my son's room or tackling any of the multitude of projects waiting in the wings. Or spending time with my kiddo when he's home, doing something fun and relaxing. I know I'll feel quite accomplished when this is degree is finished, but I certainly am struggling with all of life I'm missing out on now.

And just for the curious, I did not follow through on the matchmaking thing. I just can't get past the loser and psycho fear. Besides, who has time for a relationship?

Okay, enough whine. Time to dig into the day.

Yummy

2007-06-08T20:31:00.000-04:00

Can't get any yummier than this!

Does God Use e**Harmony?

2007-06-07T15:38:00.000-04:00

Okay, I...ummm...I filled one out. Yeah, you know, one of those surveys on eHarmony. Okay, I was bored, it was late, and I don't drink anymore - so I had to do *something*.

And I wasn't rejected, so I guess that's good. But I have no intention of actually subscribing or corresponding with a "match". I was just bored. But now it's got me thinking several things.

First, how desperate must one be to utilize a "match" service? Just how big a loser would I be? I mean, if I can't attract a guy in person (and I can't, it seems), why would I want to resort to what seems an awful lot like subversion or trickery?

Second, even if I could resolve in my own mind to do something like this, is it really necessary? I mean, my belief is that if God can create the world, part the Red Sea and keep my from neutering the Toad, isn't He capable of bringing The One into my life, across my path, right up to my door if necessary? I know He can. But does He use eHarmony as His starting point? Surely not.

Gray clouds

2007-06-04T23:04:00.000-04:00

She hates when she gets this way
Mind flooded with clouds of gray
Lonliness

Contemplating the years that stretch before her
Wondering how she will survive, day after day
On her own, all alone.

What?

2007-06-02T23:58:00.000-04:00

Vanity plates. Frankly, I think they're embarrassing and, well, silly. But that's just me. If you have one and love it, go right ahead; I'm happy for ya.

Anyway, so I'm driving home this week and I see this plate that says MRTINI. Now, my first read-through in my head is Mr. Tini.....as in Mr. Teeny. OoooKaaayyy....just the kind of thing the guy driving should have on his car, right? I mean, doesn't every guy want to advertise his, um, shortcomings? Mr. Tini.

Ok, yeah, I know he probably intended it to read as 'martini'.

New semester, Crow Row, and other miscellany

2007-05-09T22:26:00.000-04:00

This week marks the start of summer semester and I am already stressed to the hilt. I'm out of my comfort zone on this one - more so than usual - and it ticks me off. So far I've managed to keep a 4.0 average, but I've already made up my mind that if I can't pull an A in this one then I'll just have to suck it up. Still stings, though.

So I've noticed for some time now that on Wednesday night church services there is this section of 2 or 3 rows where all of the single or unaccompanied women sit. The majority of them are gray-haired and for whatever reason - widowed, husbands just don't attend, maybe divorced - they all cluster on those same rows week after week. It sort of reminds me of birds sitting on a telephone wire, all in a row....a row of crows. Suddenly I'm wondering if I am supposed to be sitting there with them. Am I out of place? Is this some unspoken rule that I don't know about? Am I to be relegated to the Crow Row?

I've recently realized that in 7 years I'll be 50. I've never been bothered by age before; 30 was great, 40 was fine, but 50.....that's half a century. That's not, well, not where I ought to be.

I've also reminded myself that in 8 years my son will be leaving for college. Where have the years disappeared to? Why am I wasting my time in school when he'll be packing off for college, then a job then marriage in a matter of no time?

My life seems to be spiraling toward an open coffin and what am I doing? Writing stupid papers for some dumb degree that won't leave me with any comforting memories when I'm locked up in some nursing home.

Time to renew my happy pills.

One more complete

2007-04-17T23:53:00.000-04:00

Ahh....just submitted my last assignment for my last Spring course....thank goodness. Of the two classes I took this term, Leadership was my favorite - I fell in love with the book and the whole concept of leadership. The second course dealt with Change, and while a bit of it was interesting, I must confess I'm glad to be done with it...it was just a tad boring.

And tomorrow I give a take-home final to the class I'm teaching and we're done for two weeks - until the 30th.

My next classes (mine, not teaching - I don't teach again until Spring) starts early May, somewhere around the 7th. I'm nervous about my summer classes 'cause one of them is a research class (the first of several) and that's my weakest point. I really need to start doing some hard and heavy research for my dissertation so I won't be so far behind when the time comes to start that. I have 2 more years of classes after Summer, but I'd love to be able to jump right in on the proposal and writing at the end of that time. Hopefully get the dissertation done in a year.

Some days I'm not sure what I'm doing. I mean, I know for sure that God brought me to the point of going back to school; I have no doubt it was His plan. It's just that I'm not sure why. It's difficult to wait on His timing sometimes.

Ok, I'm tired and my brain is fried. I'm off to bed so I can get up and start all over again tomorrow. And for my friend who's going through a tough time right now, know that you are still in my thoughts and prayers. And remember, you can call me even at 3am.

Love and blessings to all,
bru

When he looks into her eyes

2007-03-03T21:18:00.000-05:00

I watch couples in the cafe. Mostly middle-to-old aged. They aren't pretty people, like the young ones. Sometimes they're plump, many times bald, dressed casually. And I wonder how it is that they are together. Have they been together forever? Does he love her? Does he cheat on her? When he looks in her eyes does he still see the beauty who first turned his head, took his breath away, made his heart skip a beat? Does he look past the wrinkles, the thickening waistline, the sagging breasts to see the love of his life? Does she love him? Can she still see the dashing young man who made her heart sing? Do they talk - really talk to each other, or just at each other? Do they laugh, play, cry together? Do they make love with wild abandon or the sweet comfort of soulmates, or is it just routine? Are they still in love after all these years, or are they just convenient, a habit, too deep in debt and too many children to risk divorce?

I Got My Degree From Books-A-Million

2007-03-02T19:23:00.000-05:00

I think I'm a freak.

Ten years from now, when people ask me where I got my doctorate from, I'll have to tell them Books-A-Million. At the cafe, to be precise. I can't study anywhere else. If I'm at home, the temptation to clean or nap or work in my yard is too great. If I go to the library, I get sleepy (funny, it had that effect on me when I was in college the first time around....I used to curl up in a chair under the staircase and nap. That explains why I was such a lousy student and why I am such a wise advisor). And I sure as heck can't get anything done at the office....too many "I'm sorry to bother you but..." and "I know you're not really here, but...". So for now, I hibernate at my local BAM cafe, where the kids behind the counter have begun to recognize me and I can focus with the drone of coffee machines, talking and music in the background.

I love bookstores, anyway. I just love books. Sometimes, when I've been studying all day and I take a break and wander the aisles, I imagine the ecstasy of being lost in here, living here among the books, spending day after day reading everything on the shelves. There's so much knowledge here, so many stories to read. Reading has always been a part of me.....I have my mother to thank for that. She sometimes tells of grocery shopping when I was a girl, and how she would always buy me a bag of Tootsie Pops and a Little Golden Book. And I remember her dropping me off at the library in later years to peruse the stacks.....later, when I was allowed to ride my bike downtown, the library was a favorite stop, after the drugstore stop to read TigerBeat and look at makeup, and a stop at the dimestore to see what new treasures lined their shelves. Reading allows me to live in other worlds, becoming a part of fictional lives and places, having daring adventures and seeing through the eyes of others.

I remember, too, devouring my mother's collection of Readers Digests. My father gave her a subscription in the 60's....'68 or '69, I think, and I believe I have the original book with his inscription to her packed away somewhere. She kept the subscription for many years and when she finally decided to cancel, it was difficult.

I even love children's books...the illustrations, particularly. My son and I spent countless hours reading when he was younger. I remember reading The Little Engine Who Could (I think that's the name) when I was so hoarse with laryngitis that I could barely do more than whisper. I do miss that part of our time together when he was little. We still occasionally read together, but truthfully, it just isn't the same.

So though she'll never see these words, I have to thank you Mom, for passing on your love of books. And when someone asks where I got my degree, I will be more than happy to tell them, "Books-A-Million".

Do you know how stupid that looks?

2007-02-16T20:38:00.000-05:00

Okay, I know these bluetooth thingies are all the rage.

And I can understand the convenience of not having to hold the phone to your ear while talking.

But, folks, you just gotta know that it looks really stupid to have that thing hanging out of your ear all the time. I'm going to go ahead and apologize now to any friends who use one (okay, you and I know there's only 3 of you who read this and I know for a fact that 2 of you don't have one). I'm thinking, use it while you're driving, use it if your hands are occupied, use it if you're going to be talking for a long time; stick it in your ear when the phone actually rings. But why have it on when you're just walking around shopping or whatever and you're not even talking on it? Is it really too much trouble to hold the phone for the 2 minutes you're going to be on it? First it was push-button phones, then cordless phones, then cellular phones...now even those are too much trouble?

Okay, back to the books. Thanks, I needed that diversion.

2007-02-15T23:05:00.000-05:00

Heart scarred, battle-worn, weary;
Eyes inside unable to see through clouds clearly.

Voices like thunder, like whispers, like chant;
Resounding an inner, deafening rant.

Time yesterday, today, tomorrow, both now and so long ago;
Who will still the sounds, the tears, the words that no one can ever know?

Whining tired again

2007-02-05T21:31:00.000-05:00

Seems like every thought begins with "I am so tired". And I know those few who know me get tired of hearing it, but I really am too tired these days. I have spent all but 2 hours of my day today in front of the computer working on two papers that are due by midnight tonight. I just wrapped them up and submitted them. Yes, I had to skip work. I just can't seem to catch up these days. And there are still bills to be paid, laundry to do, house to clean.....my bathrooms have begun to grow hair; when they start talking to me, I'm outta here.

I'm not whining, really, because I am blessed to have all those things that need doing. And I know I don't have the market cornered on busy and tired. Today I'm just exhausted to the point that I almost feel sick. And I know that for the next 3+ years my time is not my own. One of my best friends who is in Florida recovering from an exceptionally radical cancer surgery can't understand why I don't call frequently. My pastor and others at church hound me about missing Sunday School or other functions; I try to tell them that after studying all weekend and getting to bed midnight or later on Saturday, I just have to cut something out. I am just one person and if working full-time, teaching a class, going to school full-time, raising a son, taking care of a house and yard (and I use the term taking care of loosely here) as well as other miscellaneous committments don't give me the right to be too tired to jump through hoops sometimes....well then, bite me.

I think about the next few years until classes are completed and the disseration is written and I pray there are no emergencies, no sickness, no catastrophies. Not that I don't pray against those anyway, but I don't know where I'd fit them into my schedule.

Okay, it's nearly 10p.m. and I still have to get a display board ready for a Majors Fair we're sponsoring at work tomorrow. Have I mentioned lately how tired I am?

Quote

2007-01-25T20:43:00.000-05:00

I love quotes. I just recently found this one......

"It's not so much that we're afraid of change or so in love with the old ways, but it's that place in between that we fear . . . . It's like being between trapezes. It's Linus when his blanket is in the dryer. There's nothing to hold on to." (Marilyn Ferguson)

And this is my all-time favorite quote on leadership:

"A leader is best when people barely know he exists, not so good when people obey and acclaim him, worse when they despise him. But of a good leader who talks little when his work is done, his aim fulfilled, they will say, 'We did it ourselves.'" (Lao Tzu)

Mind Wandering

2007-01-20T22:07:00.000-05:00

Mind wandering, fringed around the edges;
Tired, yet yearning for more.
I wonder at the people around me,
Curious at what brings them here,
Resisting the impulse to see what they are reading and ask
What they are thinking.
What are you waiting for?
What makes you think, love, hurt, laugh, cry?

In over my head

2007-01-02T23:19:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I made it through the first semester with 2 A's. Unusual for me - in most everything I do I start out with a bang and then about 2 weeks into it - whatever 'it' is, just pick anything - I start skating; I get bored and start trying to get by with as little effort as possible, which typically yields B results. Turns out, however, that I am now highly competitive. Where did that come from? Anyway, I've spent the break between terms getting ahead on my reading for Spring term. Tonight I log in (class doesn't start until Monday but I wanted to get a sneak peek) and I see this in-class project we have to do for the one weekend the class meets. We have to demonstrate our leadership style (it's a leadership class...duh). Demonstrate our style??? Some of the examples of past projects included a puppet show, teaching the class how to play an instrument, a dance performance. It's up to us, the prof says, as to how we do this - we don't have to be creative, he says. How in sam-hill do you follow those kinds of presentations? A puppet show, for pete's sake? This wouldn't be a problem except that my creativity hits the wall at crayons and a color book. That's my outer limit. I'm doing great if my colors don't clash and I actually finish the picture.

So here I sit with a bag of Hershey's kisses and a glass of diet coke (to cancel out the chocolate calories, of course). Well snap, I've only got 24 days to put something together....what am I gonna do? I'm afraid this is a journey upon which I should not have embarked. Whose bright idea was this, anyway?

Countdown

2006-12-10T22:15:00.000-05:00

I have one more assignment and my final project due this week and I'll be finished with my first semester - two classes down, 13 million to go. Nah, seriously, I think it's one semester down, 8 to go plus dissertation. So far I still have an A this class but I'm a little worried about the final project. But if I've calculated correctly, I can make a B on it and still come out of the class with an A. If my math is correct.

Already ordered my books for next term and they should be here next week, so I can get started on my reading over the holidays...no rest for the weary. Frankly I'm ready to fry my brain on movies and reading for fun for a week.

A Partridge in a Pear Tree

2006-12-10T22:12:00.000-05:00

Ya know how you think there's nothing worse than listening to "The 12 Days of Christmas" more than once during the holidays? Turns out it can be worse.....try listening to it sung by Alvin and The Chipmunks *sigh*

I remember

2006-12-07T23:52:00.000-05:00

I remember my mother sitting up late into the night reading and munching on chips; this was her routine many nights, into the wee hours after we had all gone to bed. I now know that she was escaping - running away from home, from the pressures of life, from worry, from dissatisfaction, from the demands of an emotionally needy girl-child, from rambunctious boys. These hours were spent in other less-demanding worlds. Nights when she was too exhausted to sleep, knowing she had to get up early the next morning but unable to let go of those precious few hours that were her own.

I follow her footsteps just a bit too closely, I think. It's nearly midnight and I've just put the finishing touches on a santa costume for my Boy's play tomorrow and put on a load of laundry, yet all I want to do is sink into my latest book when I really need to get some sleep. But for just a few moments I can escape, running down paths where I've never been, meeting people who intrigue me; just for a few moments I can run away from home.

Drivel

2006-11-27T22:32:00.000-05:00

I'm hiding from homework, so here I am.

I took last week off work to get the house cleaned for Thanksgiving - since everyone was coming to my house I figured I didn't need to let them see just how big a slob I am. During school there's very little cleaning done, so let's just say it was a really big job. Still didn't get our bedrooms done, but that's okay; I'll get to them soon. This was heading somewhere....oh, yeah, I really didn't want to go back to work today. Don't get me wrong, I still love my job and the people I work with, but I sure would love to be able to stay at home and work in my yard, do some things around the house and just enjoy my days. Sound like I'm ready for retirement? Oh yeah!! I only have 23 years until I can draw Medicare..*waaaah*. While it's true that I have 11.5 years at the university, I don't see me being able to retire at 20 years. Good thing I love my job *sigh*.

So Thanksgiving went well, no family battles - that's always a good thing. My kiddo was with the Toad, though, and I missed him like crazy. But he came home Thursday night and we spent Friday putting up the Christmas tree and singing Christmas songs. I still need to get the rest of the house decorated - guess I'll get to it this weekend, in between homework and making a Santa suit for a play on the 8th. He'll be singing his first solo; when he volunteered for the part he didn't know there was a solo involved, and although he's nervous, he's gathering up his courage and I think he'll be fine.

I am quite ready to be finished with class for this term. I'm taking a Human Resource Mgmt course and, although I don't find it quite as interesting as my writing course, the part I hate the most is the 7 interviews we have to conduct. I have 2 completed, 2 scheduled and am awaiting a response from 3 more. Then we have to compile them all into a final project, details of which I don't have yet. Perhaps the real problem is that I've let myself get behind in my self-imposed schedule, which means that instead of being ahead of schedule on everything, I'm just getting by on-time, and I hate that. Leaves me no room for screw-ups. Most of this, I think, is the result of going back on my meds; funny, but most of my friends don't know I've suffered from depression for years. I had gone off my meds about a year ago, but with the swinging hormones of menopause and the stress of school and work, I had to give in and get back on them. Make no mistake - they do a good job...they just make me not give a rat's behind about everything. Thus the edge is taken off and I don't stay at that optimal stress level that pushes me to get everything done early. And they make me sleep, so I don't stay up at night studying as much as I should.

To make my week off really special, I got a call from the Toad last Sunday - he was upset and crying because his hussy broke up with him (again). Then, Wednesday night when he came to pick up my boy, he wanted to talk - 3 hours later he felt better and I needed to puke. Okay, maybe I went above and beyond the call of duty, but the truth is I feel sorry for him. No, not as in take-him-back-sorry. Sorry for him in that he's discovered the hussy is a female version of him - well, he doesn't actually admit that, but it's the truth. And sorry for him because he's just never been out of a relationship, and he doesn't like to be alone. I still wanna puke and take a shower. But I did find out one interesting tidbit....did you know that credit card companies give really big credit cards to dentists? He couldn't help but brag that he has one card with a $20,000 limit and one with $30,000 limit. Good thing, too, I suppose, since he still lives in an apartment and takes his laundry home to his mother's to do.

Alright, I realize this is totally boring, useless drivel, so I'm off for now. Hugs to all,
--bru

Got grades

2006-10-27T23:25:00.000-04:00

For those of you interested, I received my final grade for my first class - I not only got an "A", I had the highest grade in the class, according to my teacher. I can't take credit for it, though - the Lord did it all! He inspired me and led me when I didn't think I could do it. He's awesome!

Not much going on today. A very dear friend had surgery yesterday to remove a cancerous tumor; the surgery was very, very radical. She pulled through but is heavily sedated for a bit longer. Her recovery will be long and difficult. I hate that dreaded disease.

One down, many more to go

2006-10-21T14:00:00.000-04:00

Okay, it's time for an update. I have just now - literally within the last hour - completed my final project for my first class towards my doctorate. Yay!! So far I have an "A" in the class, but putting together this last project fuzzed my brain. So I'm not sure if I'll still have an "A" when all is said and done. I'll submit this project by Tuesday and hopefully have my final grade by the end of the week.

For those of you just joining me, I've gone back to school. Can you believe it? I'm working on my Ed.D. in Educational Leadership with a concentration in Higher Ed. About half of the program is online and the other half a combination of in residence and online. My first class was Advanced Academic Writing and was intensive - 7.5 weeks. It turns out I like the 7.5 week classes - I think I have a short attention span. By the end of week 5 I'm ready to move on to something else. And it keeps me from procrastinating. But it does make for long nights - I get most of my work done at night from 10pm to around midnight. My next class is Human Resource Mgmt; it starts next week. I was up last night or rather this morning until after 2:00 a.m. working on my final project for the first course and starting some stuff on the next one. So I'm pooped! Need an energy boost, though, because I'm going out with friends to see a movie later - I think it's called One Night with the King.

My kiddo is doing great; he's gone with the Toad this weekend, so the house is quiet. He is so into Star Wars - can you believe it? So it's constant sound effects of light sabers and R2D2 around here. This is last year's school picture, for those interested....

Okay, I'll post more a little later - got lots to do.

--bru

Beach dreams

2006-08-20T12:11:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was a day relaxation....our first whole-family vacation - my parents, brothers and their families - in many years. We spent the day at the beach, huddled behind umbrellas like hermits crabs in their shells, watching the kids play in the water. It was a good day. I hated to leave when the time came.

I find such peace at the water's edge, whether beach or lakeshore. I'm not much of a swimmer, mind you - hate it, in fact, because of a near-drowning incident as a child. But the roar of the waves crashing on a sandy shore, the smell of the salty air and the sight of birds flying and dipping, looking for sustenance, all fill me with a peace and contentment I find nowhere else. I awoke this morning wishing I could meander down to water's edge with a cup of coffee and watch as the sun rose, spreading a gauze of rose, orange and yellow over a clear blue sky. In spite of the salt and sand, I always come away from the beach feeling cleansed, healthy and wholesome. I love the feel of sun-kissed skin and mornings laced with with the tangy scent of sea.

Family gatherings are still difficult for me - the final obstacle to overcome in the land of single parenting. They are the last standing reminder of our missing piece, our un-belonging, our not-quite-the-same-as-others. The truth is, it doesn't matter how many single parent families there are out there...no matter how hard we try to reinforce that we are a real family...no matter that I wouldn't take the toad back if he came begging on bended knee.....we still are not a family complete in the way God intended. Make no mistake - our life (mine and my sunshine's) are much better than they would be if we were still in that situation. But it doesn't mean there aren't still times of regret that life didn't turn out differently - that he didn't turn out to be the man he could've been.

So now I'll turn my thoughts to dreams of sand, surf and sun, concentrating on the best of yesterday's brief vacation, and get back to preparing for the week's demands. I am thankful for days like yesterday....for days like today...for everyday.

Tired tonight

2006-08-14T23:11:00.000-04:00

I am so tired tonight. Fall classes began today. Students began flooding in Friday to get advised and registered, thus creating their own crises. What's the saying? "Failure to plan ahead on your part does not constitute a crisis on mine." Those are most assuredly words to live by.

I'm already behind on my self-imposed reading schedule. My first class begins Sept. 9 and I need to have all four texts read before then. It turns out I'm a slow reader when it comes to non-fiction. Go figure. Give me a good fiction and I can rip through it in just a few days, depending on what else life is tossing at me. But serious stuff? Puh-leeze. It's like slogging through mud in rubber waders.

If I'm already feeling stressed and behind my own time-line, how am I going to make it through the entire program? On a brighter note, I still have 6.5 hours til time to get up and get ready for work....

Late night ramblings

2006-08-06T00:58:00.000-04:00

Who am I to think I can do the things I do?
What makes me the expert, the one who knows the right way and the wrong?
The one who makes decisions, leaps of faith, gives advice based on nothing?

They are fools to think I know anything at all.
Won't they be surprised when they awaken to find this was all simply a dream, a facade, a farce, a sad rendering of reality.
To see it carried away like sand on a beach, like time, like youth.

Procrastinating

2006-08-05T19:48:00.000-04:00

Okay, I have *got* to get this report done, and the survey, and the description for the job posting. Yeah, I brought work home with me over my long weekend and its bites. I can't get motivated. So I'm doing the thing I do best: put it off.

I ordered my textbooks today, $255.48. Can you say hope-I-get-an-excess-check-otherwise-I'm-screwed? I would like to think I'll actually carry through on my plan to get my reading done in the next 4 weeks before class starts - but there is that thing, of course. That thing I do so well. Procrastinate.

I think procrastinating is highly underrated. I mean, not everyone can. There are those who will gradually come loose at the seams at the thought of waiting just one more day, just a little bit longer, just five more minutes...I, however, am not one of those. I've heard procrastinating justified as "...but I work better under pressure..." and "...that's when I get some of my best ideas - when I'm in a time crunch..." Bull. Bottom line is, I just wanna do what I wanna do, and I wanna do it until I get tired of it.

I've put off a great many things in my life, some with good results, some not-so-good. Let's see....

I put off marrying until I was 23....and would've put it off longer if he hadn't been going into the Army...

I put off having children until I was 33...okay, so maybe I didn't but nature did....The timing turned out to be perfect...

I put off getting a divorce until I found out he was making life plans that didn't include me; not much you can say for that one....

Wait, I see a pattern here - 23, 33 - there it is! What am I going to put off until 43? Holy smoke - what am I going to do? Now I've got to figure out what I can postpone for 2 more years (okay, 1 year and a few months - happy now)? Too late to put off school. Can't be dating, as I have no prospects; ditto for marriage. So what'll it be? Hmmm, I think I'll work on solving this tomorrow. After all, I work best under pressure.....

They let me in

2006-08-03T22:06:00.000-04:00

Ooookaaaay....so, they let me in. The doctoral program. Yeah. Ummm, maybe I shoulda thought about this a little more. Who would've thought they would actually accept me? So naturally, I now doubt the validity of this institution. I mean, for crying out loud - if they accept me they must be hurting for business or a complete and total farce.

I'll be $40,000 in debt when this is all over. At least, that's what they project. I'll be on medicare and social security before I get the loans paid off. But at least the toad won't be the only Dr. ___ when this is over. If I make it through, that is.

I'd like nothing more than to walk across that stage, diploma in hand, and know I've finally made it to my dream goal. I'd like to be able to double my salary so I won't have to worry about supporting us when the child support checks dry up. I'd like to have more money than month, for a change. But mostly I just want to know I could do it, and I want my son and my parents to be proud of me. Right now my son isn't at all crazy about the idea of me going back to school, afraid I won't have time for him. But I've got to do this, or at least give it my best shot. I've explained it to him, and he's okay for now, but I know he still worries a bit.

Whoever said you can do it all obviously wasn't and didn't have to.

Shutdown

2006-06-09T22:50:00.000-04:00

Why do I blog? I honestly can't think of one good reason why I do except to get the words out of my head....hoping against hope that once they appear in black and white they'll no longer bounce around and echo off the walls of my mind.

I'm close to shutting down.....I can feel it. Too many demands, too little control over my days. When I get like this I'm no good to anyone....don't keep appointments, don't return phone calls, barely make it to work, let others down by not keeping commitments.

I need time with my son. I picked him up from my parents today where he's been staying during the week since I work and neither of us wants him in daycare - he's almost 9 and, let's face it - what 9 year old wants to stay with a sitter? Anyway, from there it was shuffling him off to the Toad's for his weekend. For a few minutes there my son was in tears...he wants to see his dad but he's homesick, too. What kind of freakin' summer is it when a kid can't spend it at his own home with his own stuff playing with his own friends? What kind of mother is too tired to play at the end of the day and then spends what little time there is on the weekends doing crap around the house?

I'm just tired, I guess, and stressed to my limit. My mother is starting chemo and radiation next week, my close friend is battling a cancer that looks to be untreatable, work is at it's busiest with no end in site, finances are tight, the house is a mess, the grass is ankle-deep and the mower's broken, I miss my son and I'm applying to get into a doctoral program. And tomorrow I have to help out at church with a kid's outreach and frankly, since my child isn't even going to be there, I'm just not in the mood to do it. Top all this off with hot flashes and headaches and you have One Mean Brunette.

Don't get me wrong, I have a multitude of blessings for which to be thankful - and I am. And I know God will turn this around and I'll be filled with sorrow that I sunk this low. I know God will fill me with His presence and joy and restore my strength. But man, right this minute I just need to shut down for a few days; turn off my brain and get refocused.

Alright, it's after 11pm.....I'm going to watch House.

--bru

Her

2006-05-08T09:56:00.000-04:00

There was a time when she had the heart of a poet
Her soul sang songs and she knew life was hers for the taking
She dreamt dreams of love and laughter and meaningful existence
Of days brimming with passion and creativity,
Of the warmth of sun-kissed shoulders and cool, gentle breezes on starry nights.

Now she knows better; she knows reality.
Her heart no longer sings at all, and she sometimes feels that life is simply a series of movements,
Of waiting for the next Thing to happen, the next Task to be accomplished
She stopped looking for meaning in life and concentrates on being
She bypasses creativity and passion for practicality
And starry nights have given way to nights of exhausted slumber
Her soul no longer sings at all.

You can't shoot them

2006-02-14T20:56:00.000-05:00

I was helping my son study for his history test last night - third grade history, where all is new and exciting and the dastardly politicians have yet to taint minds and cloud views. One of the terms he had to learn was surrender. After giving me the definition he said, "and Mom, did you know that when one side surrenders in war the other side can't turn around and shoot 'em?" It struck me as so funny - maybe you had to be there - but the idea that it was this thought that struck him as interesting - that you can't just shoot the losers.

My sweet sunshine wrote me a poem for Valentine's Day:

Someone I Love

She taught me about the dove

She taught me about love

She is like a flower

And always gets in a good rain shower

And she can do it better than any other

Who is it? My Mother!

Okay, so some of you might not see this as a budding poet, but my heart sure sings! I love being a mom!

Talked to a friend of mine tonight...he recently married a woman he loved many years ago. I don't recall why they didn't get together the first go around, but after two other failed marriages he thinks he's finally got it right. I'm happy for him; he deserves the love of a good woman.

Wish I didn't know

2006-01-30T21:32:00.000-05:00

A couple of weeks ago my son came running into my room crying that Sweetie had hurt Timmy. Time to explain where puppies come from, five minutes before walking out the door for school. After an explanation brought down to an 8 year-old level, his response was “eww, I wish I’d never seen that”. To which I replied that life was full of things you’d wish you didn’t know. I couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on his face – rather green, really, but at the same time my heart was breaking with the knowledge that my little one is growing up. I remember the soft downy skin smelling so-o-o heavenly of baby scent; rocking him to sleep at night, singing his favorite songs; reading books over and over until I could tell the stories in my sleep. Now, here we are, getting to the part of life where he starts learning about things he’d rather not know, me having to explain things I just am not ready for him to face yet.

There are many things I wish I didn’t have to know, like the pain of heartbreak and betrayal; the disappointment of friends that are now relegated to the category of former friends. I wish I didn’t know the fear of nearly losing a parent; the sadness of a son who has a weekend “disney dad” and his struggle to not disappoint either parent.

Perhaps the knowing isn’t all bad, though. Perhaps the knowing makes me stronger, more compassionate, more appreciative of the good things in life. I know that it does bring me back to the throne, to the feet of the very One who created me, and makes me love Him all that much more. Without His love, I couldn't face the next moment or the next; I couldn't face knowing what I know.

The Art of Peace

2006-01-16T16:05:00.000-05:00

I have spent an hour - AN HOUR - listening to my 3rd grader and two neighborhood boys argue and negotiate over who gets to pretend to be which character. First they were going to play Sly Cooper - for those of you who aren't familiar with this, it's a video game. Then, after half an hour or so of arguing, after I butted in and offered suggestions and then flipped a coin for them, they still could not agree. So I very diplomatically suggested they play something else upon which they could agree. So it was Star Wars. And now they continue to argue of who's going to be whom and who can get killed. I'm trying my best to stay out of it, to let them learn the art of compromise, to let them develop their own "peace plan". It isn't going well.

This brings me to thoughts of our world, our nation, even our individual workplaces. If the behavior of 8 and 9 year-old boys is any indication of the posturing and bickering, no wonder we don't have world peace; no wonder we have people going hungry and without shelter or employment while people in power fail to make decisions because someone else might appear in a more favorable light.

Peace. Finally, with threats to send everyone home, I've banished them to the yard. If only we could get the mothers of all the presidents, kings, heads of state, corporate CEO's, etc. to band together and send those great rulers out into the backyard or threaten to send them home, could we then achieve peace? Could we end the hunger and homelessness and jobless in our own nation?

--bru

Going Nowhere

2006-01-08T20:11:00.000-05:00

Needing to go where no one knows me
Finding I'm already there.
How long can I exist in solitary confinement,
Listening to the echo of my own breathing?

Unbearable being me

2005-12-30T18:21:00.000-05:00

I'm so freakin' tired of being......I don't know...me, I guess.

I've been noticing old people lately. The elderly, if you prefer; but frankly, when you're 41 (which is awfully close to 50) they're old as opposed to elderly. Anyway, I keep envisioning myself as this lonely, frail, forgotten old woman who talks to herself and forgets to bathe and comb her hair. Hell, that sounds like me now, some days.

My existence seems so pointless. No, I'm not suicidal. But I just can't find meaning in my life. Sometimes I'm so hungry for human contact that I can hardly stand it, but then when I'm around people I feel like my skin is raw and any touch or direct glance from someone will burn like salt in an open wound. At other times I revel in my alone-ness, loving the ability to come and go and do as I please. I don't think I'm missing a male/female relationship so much as friends. Just plain friends. I have family I get together with and I really love hanging out with all of them. I'm such a damned wimp....I don't know why I'm even bothering writing. I can't even write anymore. I'm so freakin' stuffed up, stilted, cut off and empty, there's nothing here.

I'm outta here....

Goals....or not.

2005-09-18T21:39:00.000-04:00

Okay. I'm giving this whole goal issue some thought. I think that maybe I haven't had a goal of my own since, maybe, college. Or high school, even. I think my goals have always been based on the goals of others. I finished college because that's what my parents said to do (glad that I followed through on that one). I got married, because the toad said it was marry or go our separate ways....so, I "wanted" to get married. Actually, I did go to grad school because I wanted to, so maybe that was my own goal. But, I followed toad around throughout his Army career because that was his goal. I put him through college and dental school because that was his goal. I did want a child, so my son was actually a goal of my own. But other than that, I'm not sure I've dreamed a dream or set a goal for myself in many, many years.

Since the divorce, my goal has been recovery. Recover from the divorce. Recover from major physical illness and two resulting brain surgeries. My goal has just been to get up and put one foot in front of the other, making it to where we need to be on time. I don't know, maybe I am in a rut. Maybe this is not enough. I feel as though my life is almost over and I'm just putting in time until it's my time to take up residence at a nursing home. How can it be that, at 40, I feel so finished? I would like to be a vibrant, vivacious, full-of-life woman, but I'm so freakin' tired I don't know where to begin.

I'm pathetic. I'll think on this and try again later when my brain isn't so sleep-logged.

--bru (wandering aimlessly thru life)

Fat Fashion

2005-04-09T18:57:00.000-04:00

Fashion for Fat Girls. This has been on my mind for several days. I am, you see, a Fat Girl, er Woman. Fat, Fluffy, Plus size - whatever you want to call it. I prefer fluffy, myself. But I have issues...not with being fluffy, but with the ignorant minds that design and market fashion for us big girls. Why is it that if, according to statistics so many Americans are overweight, when you look in the everyday run-of-the-mill clothing stores (i.e., Penneys, Target, etc.) the clothing section for us Big Girls is about the size of your average master bedroom. I mean, there's this huge, entire store full of teeny-tiny anorexic-heroin-queen-sized clothing when those are the minority of women in America! And the few clothes they do have look like they were made from hotel-room bedspreads. I mean, do I really look like I want bright red and orange hisbiscus flowers plastered all over my size 18 rear end? Or across my 44DD chest, for pete's sake? Gimme a break, fashion gurus! Where are the affordable, tasteful, well-made clothes for those of us with ample figures? Are you hoping to shame us into becoming mere shadows of ourselves? Do you think that if you don't market to us, we'll eventually fade away and cease to be a reminder of what could happen to Barbie if she really cuts loose? Think again, skinny-minnie. We're here to stay, and we have a sense of fashion. Time to start catering to us as well.

--bru, fluffy and fashionable

Merry Christmas

2004-12-25T13:02:00.000-05:00

Well, Santa has come and gone, my snuggle bunny just left for the toad's for two days, and my family is coming over for a very laid back day.

May God's peace and joy fill you each and every one today and always.

Merry Christmas,
bru

Just thinkin...

2004-12-22T11:19:00.000-05:00

Mmmm, it's almost noon and I'm still in my jammies...I love being off work. We don't officially close until today, but I'm using up some annual leave and let me tell ya, I could be a bum for a good six months or so, provided it paid well.

Okay, now I have my chocolate velvet coffee with hazelnut creamer and Kenny G's Christmas cd on, and my bunny is watching cartoons. Gotta load of laundry going. This is shaping up to be another great lazy day. Screw getting out and raking yards.

Christmas is making me nostalgic, I guess, or maybe it's my constant microscopic examination of my life and what I've done wrong that's making me wax sentimental today. Anyway. We'll all be gathering at my parents' on Christmas Eve....we've always celebrated Christmas Eve, exchanging gifts and spending the day together. I can't remember why we do it that way, but now Daddy won't let Mom change it. There have been many difficult, emotionally-strained Christmas Eves in our lives and looking back I can see where the toad and I played a part in making them that way. He was a very negative, selfish person, and I tend to absorb the qualities of those around me, thus making me angry and negative as well for many years. I remember even showing up one year slightly sloshed, which is a definite no-no, except for my oldest brother (9 yrs my junior) who drinks too much anyway. If he can't have a beer or two he won't be there. But he still sneaks them by going outside to his truck to drink them....whether out of respect for my parents or to avoid a lecture I'm not sure, but if I had to guess it would be the latter. But I digress. My family has graciously forgiven my past transgressions and is giving me the chance to build new relationships with them, and that makes me the luckiest daughter/sister in the world.

My oldest brother is....well, I'm not sure how to describe him. He has a lot of hang-ups, and we've grown so far apart, but I'm hoping to work toward changing that. He's very hard to get to know, although he never meets a stranger. When he was a kid he was my dad's shadow, going everywhere with him and talking to other grown men as if he were right there on their level. And the guy can sell ice to eskimos and fire to the devil himself. But you never really know him. But it's neat to see him with his own son now, who has become his dad's shadow.

Now my youngest brother....ah, he's rotten. Spoiled rotten baby of the family, 12 yrs my junior. I can't see him or even think of him without smiling. He got all the brains in the family - he is so smart it's scary. It's quite difficult for me to even follow him in conversation most of the time. When we were kids he was constantly - I mean non-stop - talking or making rhythmic noises. Drove me crazy. To this day I can't stand repetitive noises. And he had a tidbit of knowledge for any and everything you could imagine - still does. You could be talking about shoveling horse poop and he'd have a fact to share. We'd ask him where he got his information, and it was always "in a fact book". Now what kid reads "fact books"? Yeah, now I know. My son is just like him. It's eerie.

But he (my brother) is this big hulk of a guy, bearded, long hair, with this Indiana-Jones style hat and trench coat. Quite intimidating. But he has this great big teddy bear heart that he tries so hard to hide. Growing up he was always the biggest kid in his class, but he didn't realize his strength until much later in junior high or high school. Kids would tease him or be ugly like kids do and he would come home so upset, so heartbroken, not realizing he could literally stomp them in ground without even breathing heavy. He's still tenderhearted, though you'd have to know him really well to ever see it. When I see him with my mom and dad...well, you'd just have to see them. Mom can't stand it until she gets a big bear hug, first thing when he walks in the door, and he always gives her this big goofy grin to go with it. I mean, she'll mow you down to get to him. And Daddy just looks up at him with so much love and pride shining in his eyes, it's amazing.

This is the brother that makes me laugh until I can't breathe. He's the funniest person I've ever known. Incredibly sharp-witted. And he intuitively seems to know me better than most. But he is so, so smart I just stand in awe sometimes listening to him. He gets the whole picture and the details. And he a good game-player. Now, silly as this sounds, I love to play games - you know, board games, cards, etc. He plays hard but fair, with a competitive spirit but with integrity, like my dad. But he doesn't mind when someone else wins. He just enjoys the game. He's a good man. You are a good man, and I love you.

My brothers wives are very different. I don't know the wife of the oldest very well, but she seems to love my brother and that's what counts. My younger brother's wife is, well, she's probably one of the most forgiving, albeit aggravating people I know and I love her to death. She knows she gets on my nerves sometimes, just as I get on hers and jump up and down occasionally, but we get over it and go on. She comes from a family very unlike ours, not much "family" to hear her describe them, and very difficult living conditions growing up. So she's learning to function as a part of a family unit. But she has this beautifully radiant face and a heart that is so very giving. She would literally give you the shirt off her back if you needed it. I've seen her take in and feed strangers and friends alike, not knowing where her own next meal would come from. She has a heart for the Lord and a creative spirit and loves children.

I love my family, and I'm learning to appreciate them more with each day. We are by no means "The Waltons" and we have a multitude of hurts and hang-ups, but we are a family. The toad tried, consciously or unconsciously, to draw me away from my family and as a result I've hurt them many times over our lifetime. I was an awful big sister and daughter in childhood and adulthood, impatient, selfish and snotty. I don't deserve the gift of another chance. But they've somehow dug deep and are granting me the opportunity to build a life that touches theirs. For this I am forever indebted and deeply greatful.

Finished

2004-12-17T18:38:00.000-05:00

(in sing-song voice)......I'm finished with my Christmas shopping!!! Finished....finito....all dun now, ya heah? Gift buying is an emotionally draining experience for me - I agonize over every possible choice, finally choose a gift, then spend the remaining time until it is opened and appropriately ahhed over second guessing myself. So.....the buying is done...I can now move on to the second guessing.

I pity those individuals who must work in retail services during the holidays. I've done my fair share back in my college days and it was not a pretty picture. I know how mean and nasty Christmas shoppers can be. And my dear baby brother makes me wet my pants laughing over his escapades in retail. But today I saw stupidity in action. And in the grocery store of all places.

Here I am, standing in line with only one item - coffee creamer, actually - and I hear this woman one lane over saying "now I don't want everything put together....I have a special way I want these combined (bagged)....this and this can go together.....and these can go together but I want this by itself..." She was actually putting items one at a time in tiny little groups and directing the cashier as to how to bag each and every one. Puleeze. He couldn't even look her in the eye. My cashier finally caught on to what I was listening to and just rolled her eyes. I couldn't help but laugh out loud as we left the store. Now me, on the other hand, I just thank my lucky stars if the cashier is pleasant. I'm not about to tell her how to bag each and every item.

My snuggle bunny is singing in the Christmas cantata at church Sunday night. We have a great choir....wish I could sing. At any rate, I invited his dad (the toad) to come since my parents won't be there (they still won't attend events if the toad is there...after 4 years). He said he'll try to make it. I don't want him there, obviously, but I'm doing it for my kiddo. I'm wondering now if he'll bring her. If so, it will take every bone in my body not to introduce her as "the whore he was having an affair with". Somehow I don't think my preacher would appreciate that. But it would certainly leave me all warm and fuzzy.

Shaken to the core

2004-12-14T19:08:00.000-05:00

I work with college students. Specifically, I'm in academic advising. I love my job - the student facet of it anyway. I don't care for the college brown-nosing, blowing your own horn, make-sure-you-get-the-credit crap behind the scenes. For the most part, things are routine. But once in awhile, one of my kids does something or says something that leaves a lasting impression on me... a footprint on my psyche, so to speak. Today was one of those days.

In meeting with one of my students today, I learned that she had been raped this semester, just a few months ago. She thought I knew. Kidnapped from her own home and raped. Fortunately, miraculously, blessedly, she escaped and contracted no nasty diseases from the incident. And the perpetrator was caught and should come to trial early next year. Apparently, the guy - unknown to her - knocked on her apt. door and when she answered it, kidnapped her, raped her and forced her to withdraw money from her ATM. He told her he had no intention of taking her home. She somehow talked him into stoping at a fastfood place to get her something to drink and she managed to escape. As she put it "I figured it out....I had to unbuckle my seatbelt, unlock the door and pull the door handle." But, she "missed the damn handle" and he almost caught her. The people in other cars at the place thought it was a domestic dispute....a domestic dispute. What a laugh...here she is fighting to get out of the vehicle, then sprawled on the pavement while this guy is speeding out of the parking lot, and they thought it was some jacka$$ redneck pissed at his main squeeze. Fortunately there was an off-duty cop there and he got things headed in the right direction. She said she called her mother - after midnight, middle of the parking lot, to tell her hysterically "I've been kidnapped....he's had me for about an hour...". What a nightmarish call, the kind of call that knots up your insides and makes you want to puke or pass out, you can't decide which.

This is indelibly printed on my mind, my heart. There is so much hurt in this world, so much wrong. And although I know the end of the story (see Revelations if you don't), I can't help but ache inside to think of all the pain and horror that people inflict upon each other. Life's hard enough as it is. My heart cries out and my gut churns to try and imagine the voices she must have to deal with day and and day out now.... to envision the guilt and fury and helpessness that her mother must feel every moment of the day.... the "before" and "after" of life....the never ever being able to escape the knowledge that this violation has occurred.

Then there is the hidden, smoldering fear within that is stoked to flames when I acknowledge that this could just as easily have happened to me or my family, or things just as horrific could happen to my son. I don't want to go there to that deep, dark quaking place where fear has no bounds. I don't want my strength tested, my inner mettle, my constitution put to the test. I don't want to have to figure out how you go on "after".

I admire this young woman who is but a child herself. She was able to remember everything, down to the brand of cigarettes he smoked and his license plate numbers. She's getting counseling. She has family to walk through this with her. I don't know if she knows my God and walks with Him, but I sincerely hope so. She's going to come through this. But I am reminded once again that there are things worse, much worse, than being overweight, divorced and not getting all the bills paid.

Love those around you this Christmas season, and every day to follow. It's not about buying and giving and getting. It's about loving and living, and knowing my God.

Fall

2004-11-30T13:33:00.000-05:00

I must admit I am blissfully content at the moment, and have been for several days. It's the time of year, I think, that has brought this onslaught of contentment. Fall is my favorite time of year. It signifies a beginning in some ways, I suppose, because within this season of harvest lies my birthday...the day on which I first gazed into the eyes of my parents, first set foot into this world. I have entered my 40th Fall and I am oddly relieved and, dare I utter the word, happy. Make no mistake, it has nothing to do with gifts received, but with the simple fact that I am still alive. Two years ago I came within hours of meeing my Maker; so you see, age is important only in that I've reached another milemarker - not in the number posted on the marker.

At the same time that Fall signifies beginnings, it also brings to mind endings...leaves miraculously changing from green to yellow, red, orange and brown; sweltering heat softening to a nice warm and then crisping with cool, hinting at the bone-chilling cold to come. But parallel to that feeling of endings, or perhaps superimposed over that feeling is the starting-over.... not the same as beginnings, for those are new. But starting over as a second chance, another opportunity. The Falls of my life have marked several endings-&-starting-overs - it was a Fall when I discovered I was pregnant with my Sunshine; I married and divorced in Falls that were 13 years apart. Fall is my promise of a chance renewed, my shot at trying one more time to be the woman I want to be, to be the woman God wants me to be.

My Thanksgiving was one of the better ones with my family - everyone seemed to be at peace and I managed not to step on any toes, I think. Didn't even show my rear-end this year! (And it's an awfully big one to show, let me tell ya!) I am tremendously thankful to Him for my son, my family, my health, home, job, etc....all of the many blessings I have in my life, too numerous to count.

It was a No-Go

2004-11-05T22:14:00.000-05:00

Well, the date fell through. He never did call back to confirm a time.

I'm somewhat disappointed simply because this only confirms that fluffy girls don't get dates, and thus the toad (my ex) was right. It wasn't just his view through porn-colored glasses. Don't get me wrong - I can be perfectly happy just as I am, but it would be nice to have someone to hang out with once in a while. But I am confused as to why he even put up the pretense in the first place by calling me. He knew what I looked like - why bother? And even more disappointing is that I spent over a week worrying about what I would wear, what I would say and if I could make it through a first date without looking like a goof. I'm irritated at myself for letting it be that important to me. Ah well, as some famous philosopher must have certainly uttered at one point or another, "screw 'em".

You know, I think the real truth is that all I ever wanted out of life was to be loved unconditionally, to be loved like my dad loves my mom, to be adored. I think that's all any of us want, deep down in the quiet recesses of our being. I know, now, that the only unconditional love I will ever have is from my child and my God. And it's enough. Sometimes though, once in awhile, I just feel a bit disappointed.

School Supplies

2004-08-03T23:01:00.000-04:00

Do you remember buying school supplies?

My son is entering the 2nd grade next week; we bought school supplies last weekend - pencils, scissors, glue sticks, paper, Spiderman backpack and lunchbox - we bought it all. And throughout the shopping spree, I felt that old familiar twinge, that rush that comes with the smell of a brand-spanking-new box of crayons - Crayola, of course. And the heady invitation of an untouched, unspoiled notebook, all those wordless lines open, inviting, begging to be filled with words, formulas, doodles. I've never outgrown new school supplies. Perhaps it's because they signify a fresh start, a new beginning - heaven knows we all need to start over at some point, some of us more often than others.

God's like that....forgiving our sins and wiping us as clean as a newly purchased , 5-pocket-200 -page, spiral-bound notebook, waiting to be filled with His desires for us.

I love the smell of new crayons.

Why can't I move on

2004-07-17T19:43:00.000-04:00

I am so damned tired of being unable to move on with my life. Sure, I shuffle through the day-to-day routines, getting my son to school, getting to work, getting to PTA meetings, getting to church and even occasionally Sunday School, but I'm just not here...in the moment. It's not that I want my ex back, lying cheating scum that he is, but I just wish so badly that I could find ME. Where am I? What happened to me? Maybe I never really existed at all. Perhaps that's my worst fear....that there really is nothing to me...nothing inside....no mission or greater purpose. Doesn't God have a purpose for each of us? Then why can't I figure out mine? Why can't I live? Why can't I fit in? Am I just a cosmic accident? God's rough draft before creating the real thing?

How can I possibly be empty and yet in such pain or have so much anger? I am so tired of the anger, the hurt, the pain, the fear, the apathy. I'm tired of wanting something and not being able to put my finger on just what it is I want or even need. I'm sick and tired of searching for comfort in food and finding its arms as empty as his were....no, not empty - just filled with someone else. Maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe, when his arms were around me, they felt empty to him.

I want to move on, but how do I do that? How do I know what moving on is?