Whine, moan

Brace yourself. I'm going to whine a little. Last night, I dreamt I was hemorhagging and no one would take me seriously. They all just kept needing stuff from me while I was bleeding out. Sound like, ummmmm, motherhood? The dream has been with me today, she said darkly.

On with it then.

I am disgusted with nursing bras. Anyone who's used one knows that they lack shape, support, appeal, and heck, any remotely user friendly features. Some are better than others, true. But that's like saying that some flu bouts are worse than others: you've yet to encounter one you'd care to repeat.

I am tired of having to chase my tail over medical details. I will be on the phone tomorrow with the neurologist's office, trying to figure out why the chart notes still aren't here. Aaaaaaa!

There's enough crap floating about the world. Crazy people need to get themselves some help so they can give up contributing to it. If this is you, stop being defensive about it. Stephen Hawking needs a wheelchair and loads of specialized hard and software help every single day just to keep breathing, much less communicate. That's the help he needs. Figure out what you need and stop torturing the rest of the planet over it. Chances are the ones suffering the most because of your issues (and we all have some, yes, even you) are the ones who love you the most and would do anything to help you figure your stuff out. I mean it: anything. All you need to do is know that and breathe out a request for help. The universe and it's Creator stand waiting to deliver what you need in the most unlikely ways. Ask and it will be given unto you. Seek and you will find. Knock and doors you didn't even know how to look for will open. So ask. Seek. Knock. Live in hope, baby. Make some progress with yourself. Life is too short to do otherwise.

Well, shoot. Here I set myself up for a full head of steam late night rant and I find that I'm really lacking in material. Ha! Who knew?

Oh wait. I need it to stop raining long enough for me to mow the lawn--the bunnies can't keep up with it anymore. There.

I suppose I could always moan about people who are purposefully stupid. They get on my very last nerve. You know, the folks who bury their heads so that they don't have to acknowledge that there's anything going on so they can avoid personal accountability? Politics, etc. come to mind. Nah. This election cycle just isn't getting my back up. Hmmm.

Perhaps I could switch from a good complain to a list of blessings? Alrighty then, here goes. We'll start with the kids, because........ because I'm the mom, that's why.

Q is the cutest little guy ever and his laughs and progress keep me sane. (I'm not exaggerating.) If I feel that the world is about to devour me whole, it takes only a baby smile or coo of recognition and I am rescued.

S wants so badly to read and helping her do "M. muhmuhmuhmuhmuh--mmmmoon" a million times a day is so poignantly sweet it makes my stomach do flip-flops.

K is really reading well, though this is the age where she will insist that she can't read despite masses of evidence to the contrary. Goofy girl.

E has a humble spirit. Wow. This kid asks for forgiveness because she wants to preserve the integrity of a relationship. It is humbling to me to witness this and be on the receiving end of it.

G shopped this evening for a birthday present for a certain young lady in his class because she's nice and he appreciates that. None of us has any idea when her birthday actually is.

My parents. I do not know how they do it, having us here, working full time, and not losing their minds. Let's face it, the kids and I have some baggage right now, and the children seem to be at the height of their entropy careers. This is a safe place to be (as long as mommy doesn't snap under the rest of the details) and I am so profoundly grateful to have it.

Flowers rock. The rhododendrons in the woods are discreetly popping out red blooms. Something I always referred to as "candy flower" while growing up is out en force. It's pink, and precious to a person lower to the ground than us grown-ups. (It's probably a weed.) Some of the foxgloves look like they're going to be really tall this year, well over six feet. The plant that looks like miniature snapdragons is happier than we had thought it would be after having tree limbs dragged over it for hours over a couple of days. I wonder if it will be purple or pink in that bed? Hmm.

The cottonwood fluff, which should be making me crazy with allergies, is lying about in drifts. Depending on one's mood, it looks either like a late snow or like the lawns have begun to mold. Funny that it can get around so well in this weather, isn't it? It seems that it dries quickly and is wily. It is on a mission, after all. (To take over the planet, of course. You weren't aware of that?) I'm happy about not having major reactions to the stuff floating in the air this year. Perhaps God has given me a break this season? I like that idea.

I'm up early again in the morning. So I'd better head for bed. No, really. You should be too.

Sleep well.