Super Heroes, Tampax and Feminism

I typed this title to tuck away in my mind a memory of a day that happened quite a long time ago but is pretty fucking relevant right about now. Men, now is the time to "avert your eyes" because what I'm about to describe is going to disgust you. I have given up on tampons. I am tired of shoving cotton sticks made of god knows what up my twat once a month for 4 days and having to deal with the aftermath. Ladies, I hope you know what I'm talking about. Anyway, this story isn't originally about that. I have used mini-pads with tampons for years. Lately, everytime I run into a convenience store to pick up more mini-pads they never have any so I resort to buying max-pads out of desperation. The first pack I brought home was quickly converted into SUPER HERO bands by Jake. He was fascinated by the packaging, ripping open numerous ones and putting them around our wrists like the control pad in The Incredibles. We were both wearing them around the house proclaiming SUPER HERO status. I managed to wrestle the pads away from him without losing all of them in the process. It was the remainder of this packet that turned me on to the fact that maybe tampons weren't for me anymore. I was chatting with my girlie (sistagirl) friend, who's name I will protect in light of the topic, and she said she had stopped wearing tampons. I was intrigued. I tried it out and I felt better. It's a little crazy, old-fashioned and such but I feel like I'm 12 again. I did some more research and found that a few other girlie friends of mine were on the same path. Hmmm. I sat down at my handy dandy notebook computer and did some hunting and pecking. What I wanted to find was that tampons were bad for you and I was on a path of good health. I didn't find anything, but I did discover a website that is worthy of a peruse. These girls are discussing different types of reusable and environmental menustration apparatus thingiemajiggers with wonderful sarcasm. It all made me think of how women are creating there own feminism. Feminism had taken on this new meaning. Before, we were working on gaining equal rights but now we are more about developing ourselves into a more natural form of who we really are. Feminists dress sexy, love to fuck, crochet, cook, sew and more. A feminist doesn't have to leave the house. A feminist is a mother, a stock broker, an artist, a baker, a banker. But most of all a feminist is a woman who is being a woman. Hit the title of this blog and it will link to the site discussing period related products. May you go forward on the path that is best for you.

Boobs, Nipples and HotDogs, Oh My!

So, last night Joel, Jake, Gus, Red and myself were at the dogpark. Jake and I separated off and we were racing to catch up with Joel and the dogs. I was able to run quite aways and was really impressed with myself because my ankle has given me tons of trouble since the sprain. Finally, I stopped running, saying, "Oh Jakie, Mom's boobs can't take it anymore", (I didn't have a bra on). Jake responded, "Yeah Mom, let's stop, my nipples can't take anymore either". Now, that's some good stuff. We have been having some lengthy conversations about girls and boobs, and boys and nipples. You know, trying to distinguish between the two and such. It's so much fun to break out in a run like a little kid again, the one good thing you can do for yourself and your child is to break out and break down and get on thier level and just be a kid again. It's easy. And it all goes in stride with something I just read today that really cracked me up. It came from an awesome article in The Sun Magazine. It's an excerpt from Rob Brezsny's new book "Pronoia Is the Antidote for Paranoia". This is a brief piece in the article. The whole article is linked to the title to this entry. Rob Brezsny is the author of Free Will Astrology which is a syndicated feature in many free weeklies around the country. If you haven't ever seen it, well, I'm not sure what to say. He's very fun and wise and quirky and awesome.

"Make me one with everything," the buddhist monk said to the hog-dog vendor who was hawking food near the temple. The vendor made a frank with mustard, ketchup, relish, and onions. The monk took it and handed over a twenty-dollar bill. The vendor stashed the cash in his apron and turned his attention to the next customer. "But where's my change? the monk inquired. "Change must come from within, my friend, " said the vendor.

This article really focuses on a belief I have been pursuing for sometime, relentlessly at points. You have the choice to decide how you will perceive things. You can look at everything in your life with a negative influence or you can turn every single moment into a positive experience. It's easy to preach it but how easy is it to live it. I fail everyday, and I am reminded everyday of the absolute miracles in my life, mostly through Jake. Negative begets Negative. Is that right? Negative thoughts are like a nasty infection, eating it's way through lives and spreading itself everywhere, no stone left unturned. Stop, take a breath, and look around your life at what you can be thankful for. See the positive in every step. Nothing is directly happening to you. You just happen to be in the way at that moment. Anyway, catch a read. The Sun continues to awe me with outstanding literature in spite of themselves.

Just in time for Christmas

I know I've linked to her before but hey, she's my bestest of friends and I can't help myself. I love what she's doing. So, if you are looking for a truly unique gift or an awesomely beautiful card (that's 100% environmental) then hit the link to her site. Just surf around and you will find cool cakes that are made of wooden bases with her 100% locally drawn art pieces on them and coated with a caustic wax top. Check it out on her site because I suck describing it. Her cards are printed on paper that have seeds embedded in it and she uses soy ink so it's the gift that keeps giving. You and your child, mother, grandmother, husband, boyfriend, girlfriend, wife, dog, cat, etc. can plant this card and the memory will live on forever (as long as you water it regularly). Anyway, just check it out and you will see that she does a much better job of describing it than me. O.K. stay tuned for lots of positive living reading. My yoga is staying on track and making me feel very good about my core. Gotta get up and clean, clean, clean. The story of my life. Have a good week.

Caramel Apples

So, I do not make pretty caramel apples. But, I'm sure they are good. The time change was right out of nowhere. I mean, whoa. So, I was up bright and early, doing my YAAC and then making caramel apples before 9am. Here I am giving all of my 2 readers an update on life as a homemaker. As it turns out, there are all kinds of fancy recipes for a good caramel apple, but I just melted them and dunked them and rolled them in walnuts I had leftover from the last shoot. I'm excited. Anyway, for any of you trying to do some apple dunking in the next two days I have provided a link of fancy recipes. Do tell, how do you melt your caramels?

Hip Home Ec, Cooking and so much more

So, we made it to the beach and back and I've somehow got a handle on my new routine, YAAC, YOGA AT ALL COSTS. Since we have returned I've been trying out this new thing that's an old thing called "cooking supper". Nutty. I've discovered an awesome book I wish I'd had around when I was a single chicky called, "Hip Home Ec, Get Crafty" by Jean Railla. It's really wonderful with handy tips about sewing, gift making, girl power and what you need to have in your fridge at all times. I'm still fantasizing about a life of cooking, sewing, baking, gardening, yoga and such. Halloween is upon us and I'm dreaming of pumpkins and candied apples. We went to a fun carnival at Travis Heights elementary and ate all kinds of bad stuff like corn dogs, sausage wraps, flavored ice, cookies, cupcakes and popcorn. Ooooh. We went through a scary haunted house and I had a ladybug painted on my face. We went with old friends and it was a lovely evening. Jake has decided to be spiderman, so we will see how that goes when we actually put the costume on him. Independent minded fella that he is, you never know which direction he will go. I've got a new handle on the yoga thing. I have decided that I have to do it every day. It's important for my mental well-being and makes me feel better than just about anything else (except for orgasms, teehee), jeez did I just say that out loud. So, with that said, I have explained to "THE JAKE" that he can watch me, do it with me, or go to his room. That seems fair. Part of watching me is sitting on the couch giggling and saying "butt, butt, butt" every time the instructor does a "hiney in the air" pose. Oh well, I still see it as progress as long as he does not climb on me. I'll be honest, I have not pursued my efforts of being a rollergirl impersonator. I'm still trying to perfect my impersonation of myself, which is pretty fucking hard I might add. Still working on me, yup, trying to figure out just who I am don't ya know, yep, yep, yep. So, let me know if you have any clues. So, in closing, I will just say that the trip to Port Aransas was so amazing and beautiful and perfect. We had to leave the pups behind because it was too damn pricey to bring them. The Beachgate encourages you to not bring them by charging $15.00 per night, per dog. OUCH. It was actually very relaxing not having them and we really focused on Jake, eating and drinking beer. We just pondered and wandered the beach and Jake was so happy there was a permanant smile on his face that was downright goofy. We promised ourselves regular visits. As our good friend Dave said last night . . .every 7 days, every 7 weeks, every 7 months, every 7 years. It's been a while for us and we truly embraced it.

Jake and Yogurt and Yoga

I'm sitting here with Jake, while he eats yogurt and I drink tea and I'm trying to explain to him why I want to do yoga and why I wish he wouldn't crawl on me while I do it. I want him to share yoga with me, I want him to learn to appreciate it. But, when I do it, he crawls all over me like a monkey. It's a bummer. We are packing up the fam and heading to the coastal of town of Port Aransas, Texas. It's wonderful and I'm so excited I could pee. I have not seen the ocean since January 2004. That was Hawaii and it was awesome, but going to Port A is liking going home. I've been visiting that town since I was in 3rd grade. That's a long time. I haven't been there in years. It's a healing process and we are always in need of a little healing. We are staying at the everlasting, everlovin' Beachgate. Once again, been going there for years too. This is Jake's 1st visit to the Texas coast and he's really excited. Click on the title entry and you can see a very fun place to stay in Port A.

Inner Peace

Is it possible. How can I justify trying to impart such a thing when I am so far from it myself. Though I will not deny you that I am feeling closer to it now than I have in a while. As I creep ever so closely to my 41st birthday I know that I am entering a very favored decade. Many women say that this decade and turning 50 was one of the greatest turning points of thier lives. A time of happiness, security and comfort. I know that this can be true. Of course, financial freedom always helps and I'm sure that many women attain it moving into thier 40's. I guess you either accept who you are or figure out what you are about. Either way, I am still a little confused by all of it. All I know is that I am Jake's mom. That's good. The rest is just eggs in the fridge, the last spoonful of peanut butter, a found candybar in the fridge, the 10 dollar bill in the dryer. You get it, right. Joel and I embark in the last 3 months before starting the last effort to have a 2nd child. I would by no means say we are desperate, but we would really love to have a baby in the house. Jake wants it too, more than we can imagine. He talks about twins, a baby brother and a sister. TWINS. O.k. I can do that. YOU CAN DO IT! I yell to my ovaries, my eggs, Joel's sperm. Let's clean up our act and get the hell out of Dodge. I want to start trying yesterday, damnit. I have to try so hard to ignore that little, evil voice in my head that says "You can't do it, you've tried, it won't work. You are destined to one only child." And, that is not so bad, but I keep seeing a little girl. And is that so wrong. I had her in my damn hands and she slipped away. So, we try again. Other than that, we are balancing the act of making money and having a life. We don't do either with leisure. No middle ground here, only highs and lows. I heard an amazing interview with John Lennon on KUT, 90.5 (Austin). I continue to be amazed by him and really by the Beatles. I dug up Jake's 1st album, The Beatles 1, Greatest Hits. It's awesome. Diverse. Try to check the interview out on KUT archives. I couldn't find it, but I was in a hurry. Start a donation jar for my yogayoga certification. If you donate, I guarantee you free yoga lessons for life. Yes, I'm liking that idea a lot. Adios, Ciao, Aloha, Shalom. Happy New Year.

For all you readers . . .

If you are reading this blog, I have decided to spend some time on my yogadenada blog. It's for building and assisting an at-home yoga practice. So, take a look and I will work on it over the weekend. I'm still working on my rollergirl impersonation and I just found out about something called punkrockyoga in Seattle. Wow. Check it out by hitting the title of this entry. It's so cool and I may just have to wrap it into my aspirations of a certification at YogaYoga. Well, all my preparations for a big storm today are for naught. I guess we won't even get a drop of rain. Joel wins this bet.

More Rollergirl & Molotov

So last night we went and saw the band Molotov. It fucking rocked and I got so excited I had to drink a beer, which I have sworn off as of late. As I always say, if you don't know Molotov, get to know them, they are a hardcore, talented, Mexican rock band that make you want to jump up and down and yell "Chinga Tu Madre" at the top of your voice. Can you do that? I couldn't. I was very poised. Anyway, after much discussion, Joel and I decided that I would prep to be a Rollergirl. I'm gonna build up muscle, get lean, fuck up my hair, go crazy, get tattoos and basically grow into my own. I'm gonna learn how to rollerskate. But, I'm not going to become a Rollergirl because I can't even kill a spider so how could I possibly elbow a chick in the chest. Please stay tuned for any updates on my shaping up to be a non-Rollergirl that looks like a Rollegirl. Yeah, a Rollergirl impersonator. Oooooh. I need a name.

I wanna be a Rollergirl

Really. I just got my latest issue of BUST magazine and once again I am rocked off my ass by this amazing piece of literature that excites me to no end. There was a spread on Rollergirls and I got so excited. I mean in this world of exquisite and exhaustingly expensive fashion, the Rollergirls have got a style that is in my heart and soul. Being a mom who has to escort my son to the wonderful Jewish Community Center, I am so hyperaware of what I look like and I really am not cutting it. Even when I try to look normal, I get so frustrated and end up in some half-baked outfit that just makes me look like trouble. If I were a Rollergirl no one would care what I looked like because I would be a Rollergirl and I would be one tough ass chick. I could get a bunch of tattoos (but I can't afford them, and I would have tons if I could afford them) and keep my hair all bleached and fucked up and have blackeyes and bruises and maybe even lose a tooth. I am going to go get some rollerblades and start skating tomorrow damnit. I wonder if they will have me. I mean I have never even broken one single bone. I'm terrified. Will these girls really be mean or are they really sweethearts who just look mean. I'm so excited. I'm going to be a Rollergirl. Now, I just gotta learn how to skate.

The Peace Book and John Lennon

Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

In reading these lyrics, I remember that there was a time when people wanted peace and pursued it at the cost of their own lives. I want something greater than withdrawal from Iraq, which I understand is impossible right now. I want something more than the equality of all beings, black, white, brown, red, yellow and purple. I want a world where my son can grow up not pointing a gun at another man, woman or himself. I want a world where global warming is a history lesson on what we did right to change it. I want us to work with each other not against each other. I don't know what happened in New Orleans. I know as much as I can reading the CNN reports and watching 20/20. I know that it was bigger than the Mayor or the Governor or the President or the Federal Government. No one is to blame and everyone is to blame. But more importantly, what are we as people doing for our future. Are the hurricanes a result of global warming? Were the people of New Orleans left to sit in their own shit because they are black or because they are poor. Why is it that people live in this country at a poverty level that I cannot imagine even though I can barely pay my bills every month. The distribution of money in this country should be brought into question during this immense tragedy following on the heels of Iraq. I know that 911 is a distress call. If my house was flooding and I was trapped in my attic I would call 911 and I would assume that all efforts would be made to get me out of my attic. New Orleans issued a 911 and it was as if there were no directions to the location. I'm not sure what I'm getting at, but when I step back and look at the big picture I see a national problem that is bigger than whether the mayor or governor did their job correctly or whether even the president handled things properly. I see the United States driving at warp speed down a dead end road. With that said. . .I bought a book called "The Peace Book, 108 simple ways to create a more peaceful world". And I'm trying to understand the environmental issues that might be at play through natural disasters. I have so many thoughts coursing through my heart and mind and I'm not sure where it is all leading to. I guess I just feel that New Orleans brought into play the horrible unbalance in America. I'm subject to these issues. Joel and I work hard to take care of our lives but we run behind every month. We have college degrees and we make good money. What happens to those who weren't given the opportunities that we were. Why is it that we can't get a balance in this world. We are so busy spreading democracy that we have forgotten how to take care of our own. If you click on the title of this entry you will be sent to the Humane Society of the United States. I cannot get the animals off my mind during this tragedy. I have signed up to take a dog. It saddens my heart to see all these animals searching for their owners. Thanks for letting me pour my heart out.

Buffalo Springfield Struck a Note

There's something happening here
What it is ain't exactly clear
There's a man with a gun over there
Telling me I've got to beware

Think it's time we stop
Hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down

There's battle lines being drawn again
Nobody's right if everybody's wrong again
Young people speaking their minds once again
So much resistance from behind

Think it's time we stop
Hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down

What a field day for the heat
A thousand people standing in the street
Singing songs and carrying the signs, oh no
They mostly say "hooray for our side"

We've got to stop
Hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down

Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you're always afraid
Step outta line the men come and shoot you down

Think it's time we stop
Hey, what's that sound
Hey, hey, hey we've got to stop and take a look around
No, no, yeah stop, hey, what's that sound hey, hey, hey
We've got to stop and take a look around

Think it's time we stop
Hey, what's that sound
Look what's going down yeah, yeah, yeah

Bush Sucks

I think I can comfortably say that if there were ever a time to feel justified in your disgust for a president, now is it. As Bush smirked and tried to squirm out of why the people of New Orleans have not received immediate help, I was appalled and once more completely embarrassed to be an American. Finally, maybe now, the American people as a whole can see what an absolutely ego-centric imbecile of a president we have leading (????) our country. Attached to this title is an interview with New Orlean's Mayor, Ray Nagin. This interview gave me chill bumps. If you know someone right now who is seemingly and wholy unaffected by this situation, walk over right now and fucking punch them for me, please. I'm disgusted by the apathy. I'm so tired of living in a country where international involvement continually takes precedent over saving, helping and assisting the poor, innocent people victim to natural disaster. This isn't just happening to those people in New Orleans, watch how we are all affected by this. How much more grief must we be subjected to. Now is the time to get up off your ass and do something. Read this interview and maybe you, me and everyone will understand a little bit more about what's happening in New Orleans. Those people LEFT behind couldn't leave, couldn't fathom it. It's like warning an ant bed before you poor gasoline on it. They wouldn't hear you and they wouldn't know what to do because they wouldn't understand what you are saying. This is New Orleans. These people have lived here for generations. It wasn't going to happen to them. Right. You know this feeling. It won't happen to me. Well, just wait, because it will. Now is the time to take a stand and make a voice be heard. The lop-sided way of doing things in this country has got to turn around or we as a state, a country, a world and race will never survive. Next up, the insurance companies are refusing to reimburse the victims of New Orleans because it was a flood, not a hurricane. Hold that thought while I dig up some ammunition on the most fucking corrupt business since the government.

My heart goes out to New Orleans.

I can remember spending Christmas in New Orleans. My ex and I would eat Christmas Dinner then head out on the 8 hour drive to New Orleans to spend the rest of Christmas in some hotel, gambling and drinking until all hours of the morning. I remember driving my mom to New Orleans to drop her car on the boat to go to Bahrain. We stopped off at the coastal towns and laughed because we couldn't understand cajun. Trading off who would get out of the car to get directions. I remember walking the streets and fantasizing of starting a new life there. It's culture is so far-reaching, the beautiful, colorful people of New Orleans. I just found a copy of Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins and considered re-reading it for the 3rd time. Now, I think my heart would ache hearing the descriptions of that crazy city. Will New Orleans ever recover and what happens to all of those poor people who have lost everything. It makes me appreciate my extremely humble life and puts everything in perspective in terms of money and success. I'm so grateful for my son and husband and my little house and all my family. Joel's dear friend Happy has left his home with his 3 year old son, wife and new born baby. They have left everything behind including thier financial resources. If you click on the title of this entry you will be sent to a CNN site that is open to people reporting thier personal experiences of this tragedy. It's important to read these entries and know the very first hand experiences of people just like you and me whose lives are being upended by this horrible mishap, and those survivors who narrowly missed death. If you have the resources, please consider donating. If you have too many clothes, clean out your closets now. Whatever we can do to help our brothers and sisters in this life-changing natural disaster. With that said, I'm off to deal with my own life.

My son is obsessed . . .

with his butt, my butt, Joel's butt, boobs, vaginas . . .whatever. What does this mean? Please tell me. He told me to eat his butt the other day and I said "no thankyou" and he said "But, I can't eat it all by myself." Huh??? He told his teacher she had big boobs the other day. And she does. Speaking of teachers. We had our first at-home project to complete. We had to decorate a body outline to look like Jake. We went to Hobby Lobby and picked up stickers, yarn, beads, etc. Jake was most interested in squishy paint brushes that burp paint out on the page when you squeeze them. I was definitely keeping control of the project but gave him a nice creative rein. It was fantabulous in that classic way I have of making art look like a 3-year-old did it, but really he did it, no damnit, really. Anyway. I was so scared that I wasn't going to be able to deliver it with him to school the next day (yes, we did it at the last minute, what do you expect) because I thought I might have to work early, but, I got to proudly carry our work of art to class. I was so damned excited, I delivered it to the teacher, expecting some sort of praise, like "Oh my, this is the best one, you win $1000.00 bucks." But, Sarita (the teacher) just graciously took it and proclaimed "How cute!". Jake was completely oblivious to the whole thing. He's super. He loves Chabbat and is pronouncing Challah perfectly, even though I screwed it up for a few good days. I'm working a bit right now, trying not to work too hard, but with that said, this is as good as it gets. Let's see if I can attach a pic of that work of art we created.

This could be gross!

Today Jake would not keep his head out of my butt. Ooooh, Grossssss. You say. Well think about it. For a little boy, there is nothing more entertaining then a big old butt to hit. Now, at 3, Jake's head fits perfectly into the bottom of my butt. He finds it very entertaining to run headlong right into the big old thing. He also thinks it's fucking hilarious to pull up my skirts in public. Today he stood at a bakery with his head shoved right up my butt saying "Don't you fart on my head mom". Now, this is funny because I always make really loud farting noises while I bend over and stuff just to make him laugh. Well, guess what, that's coming back to haunt me almost immediately. HarHarHar. Anyway. It's all fun and games and he will be the clown of the class when he's in school but for now he's just charming them with his good looks and "honeys". I guess his second day at the new school he was playing with a little girl and saying "Bye honey, I'm going to work now". O.K. Well, all I can say is hooray, we got him out of THAT SHITHOLE, STEPPING STONE ON RICHCREEK IN CRESTVIEW. Yes, I've finally got it off my chest. That's the place. Stay away from Stepping Stone. When you have daycare, and I say daycare because that shithole was definitely not a preschool, like they tried to say they were, that has numerous locations then you have trouble. It is very difficult to maintain quality control when you have locations with no one watching them. I don't know what was going on there but Jake came home 3 times with split lips and a large bump on his skull. They did not file accident reports and the teacher did not apologize. The director and the teachers were always in a bad mood, yelling at the kids and rolling thier eyes. We knew there was a problem when Jake did not talk to anyone there in 3 months, and Jake talks to everyone. Even the parents could be depressing, scurrying in to get thier kids, barely looking at each other, no smiles. Anyway, now he is at the JCC-ECP and life is good. He didn't even blink an eye when I left him the 1st day and did not want to leave when I picked him up. I have witnessed numerous hugs from teachers and everybody is smiling and happy. I'm in heaven. This whole school thing is rough but we have it covered for the next 2 years. Then what, I don't know. We will call this my bitch entry. I think I'll go sew. So just so you all know, this new school is Judaic in background. So just to keep things spicy I've linked the above title to a nice little thing called Judaism 101, just in case you need to brush up. Tomorrow is Shabbat. Jake wears a white t-shirt, eats challah bread and says prayers. And he's learning Hebrew. How cool is that. Bet ya never thought it would happen to a girl like me.

More, Natural Health and Creative Visualization

For any guys who are reading this blog you should probably just hit the link in the title of this entry and go check out some fucking cool tunes to purchase. For all you girls, read on.

The spring after my 40th birthday (yes, it's true) my mother proposed the idea that I get a subscription to MORE magazine, Great Style after 40. I scoffed. I'm the girl who subscribes to Bust and Nylon and ReadyMade. I'm cool, hip and so. . . not 40. I told her "Thanks, but no thanks" and proceeded to hand her a number of subscription cards to magazines I not only wanted, but desperately needed for my social existence. Mom goes home and I settle into my routine and my mail comes everyday. Then, a couple of months ago, low and behold, in comes my 1st MORE Magazine through the mailslot in out house. First, I was disgruntled and insulted. My mom never listens to me. But, because I'm a sucker for magazines and to prove to you that I am. . . I have my Bachelors in Magazine Journalism, I could not refrain and had a little looksee. Well, wow, I have to say I was impressed. Right off the bat I noticed plenty of articles about women having babies in thier 40's. And, there were beautiful, strong, intelligent, confident women in the pages that looked normal in size and shape. That's exciting because I am normal in size and shape and beautiful, strong, intelligent and confident, and I'm 40. Hey, I'm starting to like this magazine, damnit. Why is mom always right (some of the time). While we are on magazines let's also chat about NATURAL HEALTH, the Feel, Look and Do Good magazine. I just picked it up at the healthy food store in Ft. Worth and found an awesome article on overcoming infertility, 14 natural strategies. The information in the article was pretty obvious for alternative methods but it turned me on because I do want to get pregnant again and I would love it if it was a normal pregnancy that went to term with a healthy baby. Wierd, I know. Silly of me to expect something like that, but do you blame me. The article chats about using acupuncture and Chinese Herb therapy to assist in the process of getting pregant. I'm a mixed bag about the topic. I want to work on getting pregnant, not now, but in the new year, but I don't want to try so hard that it consumes us and all our habits. Nonetheless, it certainly never hurts to practice a more healthful way of living and this magazine really turns you onto some wonderful recipes that are simple and pure. It is informative about a way of living that goes hand in hand with a yogic lifestyle (look for my next blog, yogadenada, soon to be premiered here at redtruckbetty). What I want for myself and what I actually do are very different, but I refuse to give up. I visualize being an overall wearing, thick gray hair to my waist, healthy 70-year-old vegetarian, gardening lady who teaches yoga for a living. I am really excited about it too. And . . .that is my segue into a book that I just bought via Amazon (I love you Amazon) called "Creative Visualization, Use the Power of Your Imagination to Create What You Want in Your Life" by Shakti Gawain. I will admit to you that I have read nothing but the forward at this point but I will tell you that this book looks exciting. This book is a 25th Aniversary Edition and has been published in 35 foreign languages. I have seen "What the &%^&# Do We Know" and I have to tell you that I fell for it hook, line and sinker. I believe that we are responsible for our destiny and I do believe that things happen for a reason and that we are creating our reality every minute of the day. I feel that this book will go hand in hand quite lovely with the effects of "What the *&*^&% Do We Know". You can find the documentary on Netflix. If you haven't seen it, it might just change your life. I've visualized some good things into my life. I've got the amazing husband and the beautiful son and I'm happy and I'm getting what I want emotionally and sexually and lovingly. What I would like is financial comfort and what I would love is just one more little baby. I have empty arms that need to hold a baby, cuddling up to me in the middle of the night and depending on me for all of it's needs. I'm not ready to give up that hope. So, I am hoping with the education I was taught by watching "What the (*&(^&^) do we know" and the inspiration I might gain from reading "Creative Visualization" I might actually find a place where I am not wanting so much and living more in a "filled with inner peace" sort of way. So, in closing, I have made a decision that I will tell my story about what happened to us with Sophia. Everyone knows a very light version of what went down but I want to share what happened in detail. I need to get it out of me and onto paper. So, stay tuned if you are interested and if not, skip over it. That's on the next entry. For now, must wash clothes, sweep, mop, make beds, have periods, carry babies, make money, make love and such. Love to all.

We Survived!!!!!! And check out Patti Smith!

Joel and I have now, officially, lived through what may have been the most stressful week of our lives and we came out of it with just a few scratches. We are a bit beat up and "the Jake" has a cold and I have discovered Coors Light, but it's all o.k. (Joel isn't talking to me about the Coors Light). The 3-day-shoot for me coinciding with Joel's catering, was a series of ships passing through the day and night. I would get up at 4:30am and go to work, Joel would take Jake to school at 7:30am, race to the kitchen cook and deliver, go home, get Jake and hang with him until I got home, we would drink a beer together, he would go back to the kitchen and prep until midnight, come home and go to bed. While he was gone I would wrangle the little spitfire into a bath and bed and try to pick up the house. Argh. I am spent, done, beat and Joel had to get up and do it all over again today for another catering. God, I hope he lives through it. "The Jake" was so stressed by Thursday that we asked Uncle Rol to watch him on Friday. It was so beautiful and they seemed to work out just fine. Oh, if Rol could just be his nanny, it would be perfect. Anyway, recovering now. What's next? I DON'T KNOW. Joel, my superstar, is going to save the world with his food. I love it. He's a fucking rockstar of the catering world. I love him. How lucky am I to have found him. ONWARD. I got my latest subscription of The Sun and there is a fucking amazing interview with Patti Smith. Check it out by clicking on the title of this blog entry. If you don't know who she is or never bothered, get to know her. She's the original female rocker poet and she's a mom too. She's speaking about the atrocities of this fucked war we complacently sit by and let happen. The quote that rocked me to the core was "Once you become a mother, every child becomes your concern". This was so real, and true. How, as parents, we can sit by passively knowing that other mothers and fathers are watching thier children be blown to bits by bombs and guns that our tax dollars pay for makes me SICK. I'm done and I told Joel that we had to make a decision about where we stand. Then I realized that it was a personal decision and in many ways I couldn't convince him to do anything until he's ready. You can act for the war, against the war, or remain in some neutral cow stance gazing towards that not so distant middle ground that allows you to pretend that it really isn't happening because it's not in our backyard, but it will be soon enough. Another thing she mentions in the article moved me because of it's unaccepted truth. I quote, "I remember that when Jimmy Carter was president, he actually inspired me. He asked the American people to sacrifice. He asked us to bring down our thermostats, to use less energy, to buy fewer material things. He asked us to strip away a lot of what we didn't need and in that way to help our environment. He also asked us to develop ourselves spiritually and mentally". Jimmy Carter is truly the only real, good, honorable, active president that I can recall in my lifetime. I believe people ridiculed him because he was ahead of his time. Even today, 2005, he is so far in the future. By the time this country is ready for a president like Carter, it will be too fucking late. Clinton stuck a cigar up Monica's twat and Reagan, Bush and little Bush have depleted all of our resources and drained our public assistance programs in order to blow up other people's countries. What about we the people. What our we doing for the great U.S. of A. Anyway, I could go on forever. I'm drained and often disgusted by my association with this country, but also thankful for the freedom's that I have been given merely by being born on this continent. Life is a catch-22. So, I am going to go work on a compost pile, grow my own veggies, rip up old clothes and make new ones and take old furniture and refurbish it. I'm gonna ride my bike instead of driving my car, do some yoga and get some love for my fellow man through some sort of spiritual force. AND, I am going to put a sign in my yard that says "American's for PEACE". And maybe, I'll make a difference. God, it's so hard to freely state your opinion when you are simultaneously trying to save your 3-year-old's life.

Ahhhhhhh

I went to drop Jake at school again today leaving a hole in my heart when I left him ( I wonder if anyone noticed) and my stomach in complete knots. Where was I going to day Miss Jobless, well to interview a new school. Do I feel better about it, well yes in many ways other than the fact that it is pretty big, but there are great things about it. It's all a group of kids that are the same age so I know my little precious urchin won't be getting the shit kicked out of him by the school age kids he is grouped with regularly at the undisclosed current school. All said, on August 15th Jake starts at a new school and I have to love it damnit.

How Could I

I just dropped off Jake at the not to be mentioned so-called "pre-school" and once again I am ill. I give up trying to give these guys a 2nd chance over and over. It really works for us in so many ways but I seriously believe that we have to give up our selfish time in the afternoon of biking and such and bite the bullet for a more formalized pre-school. When he goes to elementary school he will be going the same hours as these pre-schools. Right now he is in some sort of daycare that calls itself a pre-school. Damnit. He's just too precious to do this to. It was such chaos that I considered bringing him back home. Then things settled down some and I was able to leave him feeling like he would be o.k. Why, so I can come back here and worry about him on my blog. Yesterday turned out o.k. in the end. I went to Shannons and all 3 boys played like crazy while we lolled around in chairs talking about all the things we should be doing and laughing at the French who she said totally ingore thier children (according to one French she knows, I don't believe it though). Jake fell asleep on the couch naked at 8:30 and woke in the middle of the night to crawl into our bed. While he was asleep on the couch we finally scored some much needed alone time which was very, very, very, berry delicious and nice. Well, I have an appointment with another program on Wednesday at 9am so switching schools it may be. I've been talking about it ever since he started here at this unbelievably convenient school. OH, in closing, I happened to get a glance at a fax at the school being the nosy bee I can be and saw that they were notifying directors of pool safety as there have been some drownings at the pool where they have classes. Ha. I had decided long ago that Jake was not taking classes unless I was there so atleast I don't have to worry about that. Dear God. I'm fearful.