Cherry Blossom Moments

Learn to enjoy the cherry blossom moments.

This was the title and the sole meaning of an article I was somewhat forced to read recently. Although I will admit that I do tend to be drawn to simple, yet complex and powerful messages like these, I more than likely would have not read this article had it not been shoved in my face by my neurotic mother. This is a woman who takes breaks at work to email me “inspirational messages” and save articles from the Pioneer Press, paper clipped neatly to handwritten notes usually entitled “Melissa should read this”. How cute. A passive aggressive note to remind herself to remind me to read something she feels is valuable. Most of the articles she saves away for me are mundane rants about how I should save my money or stop drinking or stop wasting my time with boys who’s parent’s do not own a cabin or a boat ( No seriously, this has been a requirement for marriage imposed by my mother since I entered high school. Apparently, he’s supposed to be older and also capable of holding the title “Sugar Daddy”. I’m gathering the whole LOVE factor didn’t work out so well in her favor?) OR perhaps she is feeling resentful being the breadwinner of the family. Either way, she feels the need to remind me how important a man with a mission is and how I need a man who can “provide”. I call it old fashioned, she calls it the way. I guess we agree to disagree on this subject. Personally, I’m on a misson to provide for my family with or without a man. I figure a man is just some sugar on top to my life. (And that’s all the sugar I need, Daddy.) ;)

As I read this article I found myself actually READING the article. Hearing the authors words, not just scanning in a disinterested hurry, just to humor my Mother while trying really hard not to look too annoyed, but instead somewhat entertained. Usually I gather enough to summarize and report my findings, hold a five minute conversation and then move on, laughing silently to myself about how our generation gap is SO ridiculous. Or convince myself that my budgeting is perfectly sound. (Okay, maybe it’s not, but I’m not going to give up living my life as I see fit, stowing away for a future you can’t even count on.) (Let me rephrase so I don’t sound like a complete irresponsible jerk: I do what I feel is responsible for my life. I don’t live by someone else’s imposed standards. I save what I can and with my 3-4 day work week, it aint much. So when I’m finally allowed to work full time and can afford daycare on my own, that will be the day I start saving for a rainy day. For now, I just try to get by and not stress myself out too much with things I can’t change.) Annnnnd moving on….

Scan…scan…wait…Reading. Hearing. And now I’m getting teary eyed. “Oh my god, what is this? Am I pregnant?!!?!” I immediately thought to myself. Wait….no. It’s actually an emotionally charged article that is playing directly on my Mommy Card. DAMN YOU! My Mother smiled to herself and left the room. AND DAMN YOU TOO! Being a mother herself, I knew that SHE knew exactly how I was feeling reading this article. It spoke the truth. It spoke what every mother feels, even when you feel like no one, not even your own mother understands. I felt like she was talking directly to me, as if I needed to hear these words and in some ways I think I did. This woman/mother of 3 tiny children was talking about how being a parent can feel like it’s consuming you. You can feel lost in the moment and then in the next moment feel like you can’t wait to just move on to the next phase. She even coined my Mother’s favorite phrase, “This too shall pass.” Alcoholics tend to love that term. Co-dependents too. And now the Mother joins the ranks. Do they have weekly meetings for us too? But it’s true. Every moment, just like every emotion, passes just as fast as it came. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed. I feel like I can’t focus on what’s right in front of me. I feel like I’m lost in the fury of an almost 2 year old who just wants his Mommy to play firetrucks with him. But I’m lost……I’m gone, lost in thought, lost in worry. Lost in trying to figure all of this out and it’s really much more simple than that. It’s almost as if children were put here to remind us adults to stop taking shit so seriously. Chill the fuck out. Play. Laugh. And learn how to take a nap for the love of God.

My eyes started to well up in tears when she got a part where she retold a story about a friend who’s 18 year old daughter died after an apparent battle with a terminal illness. She recaptured the tearful father’s eulogy , who spoke of their cherry blossom tree. Every spring this family delighted in the cherry blossoms (as I read this I thought of my own childhood and how we all looked forward to the lilacs blooming every Easter.) But obviously this story didn’t have such a happy ending. The father recited how even though it was still Spring the day their daughter died a bad storm blew all the blossoms off the tree. Moral of the story is blatantly: take the time to cherish your moments. Stop thinking life moves too fast or that you’ll get to it tomorrow or that everything is too damn complicated to tackle. Stop making excuses and instead enjoy, live and embrace the moments you do have with your family, your friends, your children.

It made me think of how overwhelmed I’ve been feeling. Distracted. Sometimes helpless. Spending too much time criticizing my situation or criticizing my own mothering skills. When really I should just accept my situation, stop expecting so much from myself and start loving the moments that really count. Like when my son snuggles up to me when he’s tired at nighttime. When he kisses me goodbye or when he runs in the leaves with the most carefree and happy look plastered on his face all while manically gibbering away in his native language of the stars. I could sit here and blame all my worrying on being a mother or my acute anxiety, but really it's more or less a mindset I need to just let go of. Instead, I need to start accepting that these little tiny moments can be chalked up to the great moments. These memories however minimal they may seem don't have to be so grandiose to be great. Maybe I should start cutting myself some slack and realize I don’t have to have a big fancy house or a husband or every toy imaginable for my son to be a happy and well adjusted child. I can be the mother that I am and we can both be happy well adjusted humans beings.

Towards the end of the article, the author spoke of Halloween, her children growing up and the notion of how time moves SO fast when you have children. I think the saying “Don’t blink or you’ll miss it” kind of holds true in some regards because Lord knows it feels like it was just yesterday when I was in my 53 hour labor with my son and in a few short weeks he’ll be turning 2 years old!!! It’s mind blowing and equally ridiculous to me! Why couldn’t have my two treacherous middle school years gone this fucking fast???! I think that would have been at least more in my favor, instead of this hey my tiny cuddly little baby is now a walking, talking, putting stuffed animals in the toilet toddler and you can’t register any of it because time holds no bars for you lady! (Okay, maybe it’s really not that dramatic, but sometimes it truly feels like it. In an overwhelmed state, it TOTALLY does.) So I think her point was that sometimes it feels hard to slow down when it feels like your children are growing up SO fast. When really it's just that life has taken a very busy turn and instead of having so much time you don't know what to do with, you have all this time full of opportunities for really great moments and memories.

So forget the worries, forget the frantic mother, stressed out I just want a glass of wine so I can chill the eff out and watch Robert Pattinson mack on Kristen Stewart for an hour kind of nights and remember the tiny things that matter more: the butterfly kisses, the bananas thrown purposely on the floor followed by a fit of giggles, the toys that make way too much noise but they're his favorite, the stickers on kitty cats and the hugs that never seem to last long enough, because these are all your "cherry blossom moments". So appreciate them and cherish them because you just never know when these precious moments could come to an end.

Synchronicity...

I saw one of my favorite bumper stickers on the way to the park today. At the park Devan kissed a tree and pointed at the sun while exclaiming "Pretty star!!" If that's not proof that the earth does not belong to us, we belong to the earth then I don't know what else is. :)

Monogamy is for the Birds

I've had a theory for a very very very long time that monogamy isn't designed for the human species. Do I defensively shriek that I'm not a goose to a upset partner when busted having a wondering eye? No, because that's just rude and I try very hard to be a good, faithful, loyal girlfriend. (But God and I know that I still think it.)

You see, I've become convinced that upon entering a new relationship you go through various phases of said relationship and after years wondering down lovers lane hand in hand the two of you become complacent, routine trained, boundaryless partners that basically share a couch and the same potato chip bag. *Shudder*

Don't get me wrong I love the ins and outs of trying to co-exist with another human being (and the majority being the male variety). After all I AM a woman. I tend to frolic in the emotional realm far too often than what's really neccesary for any human being, but apparently that's what all these hormones I possess do to a person. Thanks pussy, 'preciate it. As far as the phases go, I share a love/hate relationship with the first phase of a budding relationship. Properly coined "The Honeymoon Phase", we find here everything is blissful, wonderful and amazing on every level. (This is especially true if you find a phenomenal, passionate lover...but there goes my one-track mind again.) But on the flip side, it's still annoyingly nerve-racking and uncertain.

Next, we find ourselves spending more and more time together, going out to eat more often than our pocketbook is comfortable with and becoming a part of each other's daily routine. Don't get me wrong, this isn't bad or wrong or any other negative term I can conjure up. In fact, this part can be loads of fun too! Especially if you're with the right person. ( Unfortunately, for me I have only experienced this once. And I was on a shit ton of drugs, so however much I really truly experienced is up for debate.) But, if you're with the wrong person, then my god this is setting up a person for a long road of boredom or a psuedo-painful breakup. I say psuedo because once the blinders come off you realize what an ass you were for being with that person in the first god damn place AND realize how blissfully happy you are SINGLE! ;p

After this phase it's basically one of two options: Get married or get busy breaking up. Why waste more time not evolving into something more deep, meaningful and committed? Marriage. Such a frightening word. For some it's the dollhouse fantasy they've carried in the back of their mind since they were school age little girls making Ken kiss Barbie. But for gals like me, it's a blinding yellow light that screams: YOUR FREEDOM IS OVER and get prepare to get ungodly fat.

I'm pretty sure I'm the minority in this since I am part of the female species and most girls go goo-goo-ga-ga over David's Bridal every time they drive past it with visions of white wedding dresses and roses dancing in their heads. *Shudder* But for me the idea of your church house wedding, white flowy dresses and bridesmaids all in row makes me nautious. To me, the committment is between you and another person. My vision would be me and my lover in a sweat lodge having some crazy visions together. Boom. "Married fo life".

Okay, let's get real now. The reason I have committment issues is not because I'm some sad, lonely girl that doesn't believe in love. I believe in it. Full heartedly. Have I loved? Hundreds of times over. I believe I'm the embodiment of love so therefore I basically breathe the essence of it daily. My problem lies in the science behind love, the fact that most married couples that are 30 years deep are unhappy, have had affairs, or are divorced and trying again. And again. and for those of you who can't seem to figure it out that marriage is for the birds, AGAIN.

My theory is this: You should be with and marry your best friend. The one person that when the sex isnt a hot steamy, throw me up against the wall and fuck the shit out of me kind of multi-daily affair anymore, that you can stand being around for the rest of your life. I mean, let's face it. We get old. We get wrinkley, we get saggy in all the wrong places. (If old geezers still have sex then good for them, but in this moment after having that thought, I am thoroughly frightened and equally nauseated) *shudder* Aging brings sickness, diseases, money woes, all of which you have to conquer together as a team. Again, you best pick the person that's gonna go to bat for you and not judge the mistakes you make along the way. Cuz life doesn't really ever get easier....instead we just get grumpier and opinionated in our old age. (Since I'm only 30 and apparently this is the new 22....I'm basing this info off none other but my own folks.)

My parents are still married. After years of ups and dangerously low downs these two human beings managed to somehow stick together. It's mind blowing to me actually, cuz lord knows I would have split....wait. I somewhat recently got out of a 5 year worthless on/off again relationship that went absolutely nowhere...so maybe I should shut.the.fuck.up about shoulda, coulda, wouldas....but the point being, their marriage doesn't fit the the glass painting on the wall they've created throughout the years.

Yesterday I talked to my Dad. He's almsot 60. Graying. Self acclaimed work-aholic that has become the oh so stereotypical husband. My Mom the bitchy wife who can't seem to understand why my father retreats to the basement with his bag of m & m's to eat in solitude while watching old war movies. "Well are you happy?" I asked. After a moment of deliberation he answered, "No." I may have been seeing things, but I'm pretty sure I saw tears well up in his eyes. "Do you think Mom is happy?" I asked. "No." Dad answered again. "Well do you think you two could benefit from couples therapy?" , Again another no. "We're past that." my Dad replied. At the moment, I didn't grasp what he was saying...but now I know he meant, their unhappiness just is, it's not "fixable". They aren't madly in love anymore and never will be ever again. And then he said the one thing that I'm basing this whole blog on in the first place. "She's my friend. I like her. She likes me. We've been together for years, honey. That's just what happens."

So, marry your best friend. Evolve into something that's honest and open about who we truly are as sexual, emotional human beings. And maybe if you're both adult about it. Keep the doors open for exploration. Stop making "the wondering eye" such a god damn taboo and again let's get real about who we really are. Cuz I'm 100 percent positive I ain't no goose.

Revisions

Take a trip. in your mind.
let the words find you.
embrace you.
let the words tell your story.
tell your fantasies. hopes. fears. desires
scandelous secrets.
let the world in.
so it begins.....

Random scribbles to curious eyes...
........................................................................................................................................................................
Gotta love a never ending story
A circle of thoughts, running rampant
in your mind.
When the ADHD takes control and I lose myself in a maddening fury of words.
spinning out tirelessly, liike a broken record
on repeat,
repeat these memories.
I can pick them out. one by one...
as if they're little fluffy white clouds..
floating by. And I'm pretending I'm far away
I used to pretend this and that. Being young. to be young again...
lollipops and rainbows.
live your life like allison in her fairytale. In her wonderland. like dorthy and the Wizard. Skipping down the yellow brick road.
We all had a disaster to excape.

Energy

Sometimes it's hard to write when you're happy. When you haven't a care in the world, when the sun shines brightly just for you and you're at one. With your essence, your being, your universe. Smack dab in the center of it, I make my way out, like branches on the weeping willow tree, I sway with the wind, with the energy that surrounds me, the energy that makes up every tiny cell in my body. I am one with this moment. I am at one with happy.


Each moment passes and I find myself thinking, pondering, wondering about the future. Pondering the past, like the dark shadow that it is.
I wonder how my life would be different had I chosen a different path, but would that path be as fufiling with life long lessons only I will percieve, only I take to my grave.

Lessons, life, the journey that we all take, up mountains of regret and back down. Blissfully happy one moment, ignorant the others. Stricken with grief, despair and addiction. Hopelessness. Grandiose and vibrant thoughts, manic and depressive. Love. Infatuation, trickery of the heart. Emotions caught, in this never ending cycle. We humans call life.

But it's just an emotion. Just glimpse of a thought turned inwards so that our soul can feel, and ultimately learn the ins and outs of this chosen life.

But it's just an emotion. Nothing concrete or essence changing. This too will pass.

Blink, it's over. On to the next, change your thoughts and see what you may find waiting behind the door of experience. The next possibility, opportunity. Each day presents itself with something new. What will you find on this journey?

Walking on again, among the twisted vines of life. Branching out into the sea of stars and yellow brick roads, I find myself longing for a different sunset.
Different as in better, as in perfection, but that too lies in the eye of the beholder. Like beauty, perfection lies in the discriminating eyes of perception.

Wandering now, into a vast ocean of energy, I find myself heating up like the sun. My rays of happiness are wrapping around the souls of others, my friends, my lovers and I see now how the dance of energy is the lifeforce that keeps us all bound to one another.

Lifeforce, the essesnce, the being, the spiritualness of this experience.

Its all one , it's all now. It's here. Welcome back home.

Maturity...

Days have passed, months, in fact a few years have past, since I've sat down and tried to scrawl out some words worthy of another reading. After re-reading some of my older posts I'm in some sort of awe and shock of how drastically different my life and my overall view on life has changed.

I'm a mother now. A mother of a an almost two year old toddler. He's amazing. I think he just may be the most amazing little human I've ever met. His vocabulary is stellar, he's sensitive and kind and knows how to flirt with the best. ( I should know, we can smell our own.) But he's definitely beat me in the "sensitive" dept. His level of empathy and cautiousness is just something I can't seem to wrap my head around. Again, the child is awe striking, his eyes a vast ocean of blue, his hands; tiny like little stars. He's the best at holding hands and making my heart melt.

My world has changed. I'm not out every night, bouncing to and from, looking for the next experience to lose myself in. I do miss my friends and the fact that I can't participate in dance nights or the just fly by the seat of my pants kind of moments, but I'm finding I'm happiest at home. Snuggled up with my son, or with a good book or maybe an episode of Ancient Aliens or Glee. (shut up.) The BIGGEST change though is that I'm no longer in a dead end relationship with someone who I now realize was my polar opposite. Yes, the entire relationship ended years ago emotionally and really why we hung on the shreds that were left, I'm really not clear on. But it is what it is and it's finally 100 percent OVER. I'm not going to bash on the man, he's great in his own way. But it took finally walking away 100 percent, no contact, no friends, no friends with benefits, no texting, no talking on the phone. It took me washing that man right out of my hair and for him to be absolutely gone in every way to realize that my heart didn't fully love him. He just wasn't the missing piece to my puzzle. We had absolutely nothing in common, we didn't share the same dreams, the same desires to evolve, we didn't connect on the deep spiritual level that I've always hoped to connect with a man on. We just didn't fit. Let's face it: I had some severe blinders on and now...I'm finally set free! My heart has never felt happier. :) Things have become exciting, fun and simple again. (Missa B is back bitches.) ;)

Yes, life may seem dull at times, when I reminence about my past "freedom", but when I really sit down and embrace my life I realize I'm more free now than I ever was. I have my own little family, I have freedom and happiness in my heart and in my life again. I'm able to be the ruler of my destiny again. Find the road that suits my internal and external happiness and live it however I choose. Already on this journey I've met some amazing and wonderful people, who can make me laugh till I cry, who can hold me like no one has ever held me before, who can smile and I immediately feel it's radiating happiness, no matter what kind of mood I'm in. It's a joyful experience. My life have become once again a joyful and unique experience and I'm completely blissed out by all of it! Best of all I have a son who who taught me all of this and most of all taught me what it means to unconditionally love.

Okay. Serious blog over. From this point forward I will go back to my sassy comments and outtakes on my silly life. Cut with some moments of the Deep. ;)

Good Day!
~Melissa

Ice cream Addiction and words by another prego blogger I found utterly HILARIOUS!

One of the funnier things I've read in quite awhile!

Instead of "pesto sandwich with cheese" insert "Snicker's Ice Cream Bar" and we'll have an understanding of my undying addiction for ice cream that I can somewhat entertain being that I'm a totally fatty anyway...I mean pregnant.

"My husband takes me to Ojai for the weekend, where we find a little coffee house in town and I order a veggie sandwich with pesto and Swiss cheese. I tell myself I’m going to eat only half of it, like an alcoholic tells himself it’s just a slice of rum cake and it won’t trigger a bender and than he ends the night with one shoe and 47 stitches at County General trying to remember his sponsor’s phone number." Teresa Strasser from her "Exploiting My Baby" Blog.

Ahhhh. I LOVE It. :) And a big thank you to Jared M Theile for pointing out this awesomeness for me to relish my prego brain in!