Daily Archives: June 2, 2016

Utter Relief

Daughter saw the doctor today and the neurologist said everything is fine. She is symptom free but he wants to check her again in six months just to make sure. Apparently her brain size is just smaller than average….something she was born with.

So relief! I will be back next Wednesday with a blog.

Thank for your love, concern, prayers, and e-mails. They have meant a lot.

Last Night

It didn’t go like planned last night. We ordered two pizza’s and mom in law came for dinner but sis in law could only stop in a few minutes because she had a date. Got to meet him, he seemed nice.

I did at least get to finally get my stone back on. I’m a happier camper. Though honestly my mood has been improving with each day. Also my emotions are all showing, it’s interesting, I didn’t realize just how numb I really was until I cried at a sad video and got angry at a slight done to me. Plus they weren’t over the top and the anger didn’t last long after I got to my punching bag. Best thing hubby ever bought for us. You scream and kick the hell out of it. Very relaxing. Hmm that sounds weird but that is the way it makes me feel.

Today I haven’t done really much at all. I did eat some banana bread without thinking food is yucky, so that’s good. Mostly I’ve just been ‘chillin’ and listening to some tunes. Which is also very relaxing. Feels like a Sunday but it’s only Thursday. I love it when hubby takes the week off work to spend time with me and his computer. *wink*


I have to play dodgeball to have my writing space.

I have to dodge the kids.  They’re old enough to know that once I sit down at the computer, I’m more or less inaccessible.  So the older one goes upstairs to her room and the youngest turns on the TV.  That means I have to dodge the guilt.  Why can’t I be a normal mom and do things with my kids?  Because I want to write, that’s why.

I have to dodge writer’s blocks; my own id, ego, and superego; and the doubt.  Anne Lamott likened it to two hard-rock stations blaring in your ears at the same time from different sides of the earphones.  One side of my mouth says it will all be worth it someday. The other counts the minutes I spend typing against all the productive things I could be doing.  At least when I write nonfiction no one can tell me to change my plots, characters, or settings.  All that is left is negotiating the details.  So that makes doing this all easier.  They (the voices in my head) can’t argue with me if all I write about are the facts.

The doubt is the worst.  The inner doubt isn’t so bad anymore—it/s amazing what a few publishing credits does for your confidence.  But other people’s doubts hurt.  The editors that reject, the friends that wonder how long you’re going to stick with the “writing thing”.  You wondering if your dad asking how it’s going is out of concern or derision.

I write every day.  I have a blog I keep up daily except on weekends.  I write for class—analysis, creative writing, discussion pieces.  I send out pieces about three times a week. New stuff, old stuff, simultaneous submissions–hoping to catch a break some place that will pay off somewhere down the road.  I write what I have to and what I want to—a nice balance at this point.

I have to dodge other tosses to claim my writing space in my life.  Like chores—laundry, cleaning, cooking meals.  Obligations–taxicabbing my children around, going to church, working in the food pantry, going to the doctor or the hairdresser or to lunch with a friend,   I write in spurts—while the kids are gone to their grandmother’s or to school, once they’re asleep, in between conversations with my husband, who is a regular citizen with a regular job that allows me to do this writing thing in the first place.   I’m grateful and guilty at the same time.  I think of the Toni Cade Bambara quote–“I do not have anything profound to offer mother-writers or worker-writers except to say that it will cost you something.”  What is my writing costing me?

But then I think about what it is giving me—such as readers around the world with my blog.   People who write me and tell me I’m funny, or I’m right, or that they just like my stuff.  People who say my story helps them. And the clarity of mind that I get out of writing about my days every day—about myself in nonfiction and my characters in fiction.  How I sort through my problems by writing about them, either privately in my journal or publicly on the blog.  Writing is my thing—sometimes the only thing I can ever get right on a daily basis.

So even with everything I dodge, I still write.  Every day, a little or a lot. If I can, you can, too.  So get to it.  Dodge that ball.  Just write.


Public Displays of Affection – Throwback

This weeks Throwback is from September of 2013. While there have many successes regarding LGBTQ rights, much of the violence continues. The following events took place during the first half of 2013: Nick Porto and Kevin Atkins were walking along the street in New York, hand in hand, when several men clad in identical basketball […]

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BpHope Post #6

Ready. Set. Sail! Hey there people. Sorry I’ve been gone again. Dealing with more marital issues. Just kinda sick of having to listen to all the hurtful language and deal with the punishments I’ve been getting. I don’t want to go into too much detail but I don’t know if standing up for myself in… More BpHope Post #6