the one where I need a donut pillow

my house is brimming with cheerful fuss. the boys laughing loudly, a laugh of unblemished joy, and racing through every room with the restless thrill of birds preparing to migrate. leaving shadows and trails of unshakable happiness. so grand it is almost as if I could finger them.

lately my days are like this. busy but flecked with moments of unpredictable beauty. and yes, desperate attempts at relieving hemorrhoid pain. yet I can hear it pang. and fret. my heart. struggling to satiate a longing for a sense of spiritual connection. for a life rich in its evocation of love, and devotion. for wholeheartedness. for approval. and guidance.

I miss God.

somebody ate the Eiffel Tower!

ah Paris

makes me want to kneel down on the floor and praise the Lord Almighty

listen to Sean and Will's "booger diggers unison choir" version of Madagascar's "I like to move it, move it!" here.

I'm still here

angling for the right pair of jeans that would magically lift my flat butt and camouflage my short legs. surviving lice fest, blog depression and a Dora-themed birthday party. I'm still here. thoroughly reading your blogs. my morning inspirations. laughing, worrying and pondering with you.

today I love my life. constantly being reinvented. snow in March. my husband sleeping his face resting on the palm of my hand. endless opportunities clinking, allowing my soul to howl its creativity and embrace art and beauty. my children. a film-director asking me to write a short screenplay. the affection and support of friends who call me nugget. my confidence and discernment expanding. and my heart, my soul. peaceful. at last.

today I gave up my pay to have my freedom back. and that has made all the difference.

they grow up so fast

a bundle of paradoxes

I feel good and I feel conflicted, swaying from one thought to another yet unable to land my boat on familiar territory.

I love writing and love that it is my job. yet sometimes the frequent interruptions and the obligations I must commit to surface a frustration and stress level I am certainly not comfortable with.

I know the person I want to be but hold on to a spiritual quality I have erased to make it easier to get on with living.

I love my children more than life. yet I can't wait to put them to bed at night.

I'm grateful for my body but resent the way it looks.

I love bloglines. I miss blogging.

self portrait challenge - all of me #2

once I was addicted to the New Kids on the Block. then one day I fell in love with Zach Morris.

one gleeful snippet of my adolescence melting years of solitude. a tv contest. a dinner. sparking shy giggles and excessive sweating. and still stirring candid and unalloyed from the shattered teenage girl inside. reminding me that yes, sometimes. dreams do come true.

Happy Birthday!

you're 4!

the gratitude, the inordinate joy, the beauty, the regrets, the fortitude, the humility, the forgiveness. I was sitting on my desk  thumbing through old photo albums and worrying about what to write for your 4th birthday when you both woke up from your afternoon nap and engaged in a  long argument about legs and blanket monopolization.

it was so beautiful I almost cried.

I love you.

Happy Birthday.