I thought I had writer's block. For three months (almost) I despaired that the writing gods had gone away and it was officially over. No more. All hope was lost. What I did not see (or more accurately, did not want to see) was that I was avoiding my truth.
2016 WENT LOW BUT WE WILL GO HIGH! Yesterday I started a list lessons from the little bastard teacher that was 2016. Numbers #1-10 were posted yesterday.(My spirited child hindered efforts to finish this in one fell swoop.) And now, I present #11 - #20.16, Lessons, gifts, and gratitudes (is that a word?) from 2016: #11. SWEATY… Continue reading A list of 20 things I am grateful for from the hell that was 2016
I am supposed to be working. And if I am not working, I should at least be finishing the job application that I keep procrastinating on. And if I am not working on my resume, I should be doing anything other than staring at the sight of three huge, frosted cupcakes at the table next… Continue reading Self-Control
Can I hug you all? Seriously, consider these words a virtual hug traveling from WordPress to your computer or smartphone or tablet or smartwatch or whatever device connects us. Because THANK YOUS are in order. I wrote a post yesterday about how crappy things have been lately and how crappy this YEAR has been. I… Continue reading Thank You for Sitting on My Bench
Flashback to 1983. My parents are watching Dallas in the basement with their friends. I'm at the top of the stairs, trying not to squeak the steps, hunched in a nightgown with my knees pulled tight. Of course my mom sees me and yep, she is upset. Despite her frustration she lets me sit on the floor and join them in watching the number one show of 1983. My mom had to do this a lot--put up with a kid who was awake until all hours of the night. Usually it was just the two of us. She'd let me watch Love Boat on the tiny black and white TV in our kitchen while she made popcorn. Initially she would be exasperated (Of COURSE she was, adult Sarah gets it now!) but she always softened and lovingly let me join her in her late night routine. Let me write it out right here in case my prayers haven't reached my mother: MOM I AM SO SORRY FOR WHAT I PUT YOU THROUGH. MOM HOW DID YOU DO IT. MOM YOU POOR WOMAN YOU NEVER. GOT. A. BREAK! Why the sudden mea culpas? [Read More]
“I am called to listen to the sound of my own heart—to write the story within myself that demands to be told at that particular point in my life. And if I do this faithfully, clothing that idea in the flesh of human experience and setting it in a true place, the sound from my… Continue reading I am called to listen to the sound of my own heart
So about all those posts this week...about the kid. The coffee. The coffee again. And again. I've Just had a reminder from the universe to not to take everything so seriously. Or to rush to judgement. Not that I ever do any of that! We'll start with my daughter. She has been acting out like… Continue reading And the universe laughed!
I thought I was through the worst of the "threenager" behaviors with my daughter. I was wrong. My sweet, almost-four-year-old child has been pushing my buttons lately. A LOT. Especially at nighttime. No, scratch that. Pretty much all the time. Standing on furniture. Jumping on the bed. The naughtier the behavior the giddier she gets.… Continue reading Meet it with love
The biggest realization with my cleanse? That there are certain positive behaviors I regularly engage in that rely upon other actions (say, brewing a cup of coffee...) that when missing from my routine creates CHAOS. It turns out that coffee is the gear in our household machinery that, when absent, causes the whole enterprise to… Continue reading Coffee, a Love Story
This is not a blog post. It looks like a blog post but it isn't really one. It is me sitting down attempting to write even though I am tired and grumpy and everyone in my house is either grumpy or sick. My only hope to turn things around are pumpkins. How I love them.… Continue reading This Is Not A Blog Post