Buy Buy Bulk

I found myself at Costco today. Between the aisles of family packed cookies, jumbo mayonnaise, and 15 lb cashew containers- I felt perfect. Like I had plopped myself into a world where big was better.

You want ketchup? Take 3! You still want one ketchup? Take 3!
You only need one ketchup? Again, take 3!

Everything over inflated- even the prices. but, I hardly noticed in my excitement to purchase 95 load detergents. For those horrible laundry days or for the next nine months. You choose. But, the sooner you pack your belongings in the sub basement storage- the sooner you can come back.

Ah, the bulk of it all.

Trying to squeeze my deeply unnecessary purchases into my car. yes, its made easier by the fact that I have no bags. Just bulk. I pile them up on each other. My avocados end up in my cup holder. I drive home with the smell of tide and the rear view of family packed batteries.

I have heard that objects in the rear view mirror are closer then they appear.

The Heat Will Do It

Oh, I knew you were crazy. Crazy has a way of following me. Up Shits creek without a paddle and I know I'm not alone. There is a crazy girl sitting next to me, using her oar for exclamation. She's waving the darned thing like its a prop, when I know If I had that oar, had even the slightest chance of guiding us- we would be free. But, She's in charge and so I sit in the painful heat listening to her talk about herself.

Life must be so hard for you. True religion jeans tapered and sized in extra small. Perfect clothes, a body that turns heads. My own life seems so unplanned. Like I had only a few minutes to put myself together and this was the best I could do.

A black T shirt. 90 pounds untucked. Booger baby stains on my shoulder. The Winnie the pooh stickers attached to my ass. And the worst part of it all- being caught talking to you.

To Do List

The post it notes are colored on.
Every single one of them.
Some with only a line, others with your name on it.
It feels like you marked the whole note pad as yours.
I grab another post it pack. This time the yellow one.
I gave up on the good colors a long time ago.
Purple, Pink, the fun looking blue- they are all the first to go.
But, now yellow is looking crumpled.
Your little scribbles all over the heart shaped papers.
Endless circles.
What a waste.
I find myself flipping through the pads- spotting little pictures.
Your name, and a heart.
Three smiling stick figures. One with a lopsided hat.
A boy on what I assume is a chair with three legs.
Three smiling girls- I think are sisters.
I can't even remember why I needed the post it note anymore.
I unstick a few treasures and tape them to the fridge. My blackboard.
The back of the telephone. The cupboard.
Anywhere.
Your little masterpieces.
I make a mental note to buy more post it notes.
For you.

Front Row Seats

I watch my children come apart by tantrums and tears. The bruised shin that has my five year old whining, instead of crying, doesn't faze me. I just watch. Amazed I have front row seats to all the free melodrama. I wait it out.

I have seen where tantrums take them. Fresh tears sprout where emotions overflow. But, I wait. I smother my own emotions. if I feel like giving up, I never give in. I calmly stop the tears with my story telling. I spin them well. Often. At times, even when I don't know where the story is going- I tell it- just so we can get swept in the tale and forget that we were only a moment ago sitting close to tears at the edge of her bed.

I just watch.

I watch my children grow up.
So fast.
I am the luckiest mother in the world. Of this I am certain.

Love, A Little Past Midnight

I love you in ways you can not imagine. I know this- because I have run with your imagination. I have held your hand and told you not to look and when you didn't peek- you didn't see how far I had gotten without you.
But, I have loved you. Love you. Kept on loving you. From distances and corners and anywhere you never thought to look. There I was.
You just have no imagination.
So follow me, imagine this.
I am sitting with you at a park reading "my little prince" and noticing you haven't shaved. I am racing downhill on a scooter and you are right behind me- so close, we seem to be falling together. But then I'm flat on my back and your not. Your face is so close, your scent covers me. I close my eyes, and you are there.
I am sitting on a hospital bed and you are holding our first child. Your eyes are closed and I'm seeing for you. Your singing and I know how much you will love our children. I see her mouth, her eyes, her chin- she looks so much like me. But, she is made perfect only with you.
Imagine I am playing with your hair and you tell me I have the perfect touch.
And I touch and take.
Little bits of your heart, all your time, most of your effort and your precious sleep.
But,
Just imagine,
You could see where we end up.
Where love goes to grow.
Where our children will one day sit.
And I, I always knew I had it all...
Love.
"Imagine," Our daughters would say, "She loved him that much."

You Can Not Know What I Mean

If I close my eyes tight enough and lie very still on my back- I can pretend I am alone. Even lonely. I can pretend the noise I hear, the clutter I'm surrounded in, the mess I've made, is not mine. I can make myself feel so secluded, that when I finally open my eyes- I'm startled to see anyone there. Certainly not my own kids. And 3. All girls. Oh, wow!

Today I drove downtown and on my way I saw some men struggling to put up a giant tent, on my way home it was standing, all white, strong and unable to move against the wind. The men weren't around anymore. The tent was up and gone was the struggle that the rain had seemed to make for the men.

I open my eyes sometimes and no one knows I have tried so hard to shut them from my surroundings. To not see the looks or the stares. Sure, I hear- but "they" say seeing is believing. I try not to believe what they say. I try to close my eyes.

When I open them, you seem certain I have never cried. You seem to think I had no great struggle. But I did. I just built myself up before you came driving back down.

Promise me, I'll never go that far downtown again.

The Veggie Fruit Combo Diet

Blended between an apple and a pineapple, I feel fruitful. I juiced all day and into the night, when I decided (yes, the night time diet decision, that's sure to cost you your morning) that if I can eat raw fruits and vegetables- surely I can eat them boiled. My reasoning's have yet to win me happiness, but anyways- I ended up eating blended veggies. I told myself it was because I am nursing mother. I tell myself a lot of things lately.

The first of them being that I will lose my weight. That I will lose it at ten pound intervals instead of one massive 90lb drop. I tell myself that I will be rewarded with each 10lbs down. Because G-d knows weight loss alone hasn't been a powerful enough reward for me.

I tell myself I will lose weight, fit into couture, smirk at my old ways, and have a bag of cut up carrots on me at all times. That my finger will soon be able to wear my engagement ring. Or take it off. It doesn't matter. As long as its my choice to take them off and not done with a jewelers scissor held that close to my skin. I tell myself I will even have to make time for a manicure then.

I DO NOT tell myself that the fruit and veggie diet makes me worry. That Fit For Life forbids mixing fruits and veggies. That over eaters anonymous only allows one fruit and only in the morning. That Atkins allows none. And I never worry about the horrible, but healthy fats found in avocados.

I tell myself none of this, because its only day one.