My Dream of You

I wrote this last year. I found it today and it made me cry.

March 24, 2007

My Dream of You

I’ve been dreaming of you since before you were born. I can’t remember a time I didn’t know you and I would be together. When I see mothers with their children, I imagine the days you and I will spend walking hand-in-hand together. I love how our eyes light up at the sight of one another. Is it possible that you love me as much as I love you?

We go to the beach, running out with the tide, scrambling back to the sand with the water lapping at our heels. We squeal with delight when the cold water catches us, quickly surrounding our ankles and just as quickly rushing out again. We perform this dance with the water again and again. When we tire, we lay in the hot sand, rejoicing in the feel of the heat coming from the earth.

Watching butterflies is one of our favorite past-times. We observe them as they rest on the plants and flowers in our back yard. If we are very still and quiet, they might rest on us. But we never touch them because we don’t want to hurt them. If we are lucky we may see the butterfly again.

It’s springtime and we decide to plant a garden. We choose tomatoes, carrots, zucchini and lettuce. We rake the ground and dig little holes to place the seeds in. Sometimes when we are digging, we find earthworms and we know that this is a good place to plant our garden. We take turns watering the ground. Sometimes we water each other. In a short time, small, green stems rise from the ground. Day by day they grow bigger and taller. We are proud of our garden, and the vegetables taste good.

On rainy days, we stay inside and draw or paint or do crafts. We enjoy crafts of all sorts. Sometimes we play games or do puzzles. Maybe we will play dress up and make believe all day. Or we sing and dance to our favorite music. Of course, we don’t need rainy days to do these things!

At night, when it is time for sleep, we tell each other about our day. We read or make up stories for one another. The stories are often about our hopes and dreams. Now that you are young, I am the person you tell your secrets to, but I know that will not last forever.

As you grow, I try to give you the room you need to become who you are meant to be. We still share secrets and have private jokes that send us into fits of giggles. But you will have other secrets too, ones you only share with your friends. You are smart and funny and full of love for others. I am proud of who you have become. At times I feel like my heart will burst with love and pride.

One day you move out of our home to make a home of your own. You may get married, and you may have children (I hope you do!). What ever you do, you will do it well. You will be happy. Gradually, I become less like your mother and more like your friend and I realize my best dream has come true.

Haters

I'm a San Diego Chargers fan.

A season ticket holding, want to name my first born after the star player, Chargers fan.

We admittedly have our ups and downs. However, we've played some very good football lately. So good in fact that this Sunday, we go up against the one team that has gone undefeated this season. We are playing to go to the Superbowl. We are playing to win.

No one thinks the Chargers can win. Nobody except the fans. I believe anything is possible. I'm looking forward to the game for the POSSIBILITY of a win. It's exciting. It's fun. It's why I watch football.

I don't understand why people insist on trying to bring me down by telling me all the reasons the Chargers CAN'T win this weekend. I know the odds are heavily in the other teams favor. I know we have injuries. I know there is the POSSIBILITY we will lose. But that is all it is. A POSSIBILITY. As a fan I have HOPE. CAN'T isn't a word I allow in my vocabulary. It's a word I won't use for my team either.

You can have whatever opinion you want. But why would you stop a stranger on the street (or gym) to tell them there isn't any way their team can win?

Try saying something nice, or neutral. You might find that it feels good to get a smile out of someone instead of a heavily furrowed death stare. Don't expect me to respond when you goad me. Life is too short. I will ignore you.

And I will BELIEVE. GO CHARGERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hi, my name is...

And I'm a craft-a-holic.

It's true. I have a problem. A serious crafting problem. Certainly part of my current awareness of my "issue" are the upcoming holidays. You see, I've made (almost) all of my holiday gifts these last two years. And I intend to continue making gifts. It's not about saving money, lord knows I'm not doing that! It's about giving a gift from the heart. And I donate the money I do save. Anyhoo, I diverge...


I've been a sew-a-holic for more than a few years. Naturally I buy much more fabric than I actually convert into stitched goods. And then there is the yarn. I discovered knitting, oh, four(?) years ago. And I became obsessed. I purchased an array of knitting needles on eBay, because you just never know what size you are going to need in the heat of a craft fit. And then I started buying yarn. And then the yarn started piling up. With the half finished projects. And the quarter finished projects. Oh and the printed project instructions that I will do, someday. I decided that I'm a terribly slow knitter. So I thought maybe I'd be faster at crochet. I am. But being faster at something that still doesn't go very fast does nothing for those of us with the attention span of a five year old. And so the crochet projects started piling up. The upside of this yarn fascination is that it's much more portable than my sewing machine. Until...

I decided that yarn just isn't quite portable enough. What with needing to take a couple projects, because how am I supposed to know what I'll feel like working on tomorrow? Have I mentioned I'm a Gemini? And so I thought, I should take up embroidery and cross-stitch! Those are great portable projects. And those are great crafts for people with an attention span deficit! HA! And so, I have one embroidered bookmark (very sparse) and about 10 stitches in a cross-stitch pattern that I bought a month ago. *sigh*

I still have the problem of what I'm going to give as gifts this year. I've got one person figured out. And I think I've got ideas for others. I've been eyeballing Gallery Glass for a while, and I'm giving it a try. Which reminds me, I'm watching some stuff on eBay...

Time flies when, well, Time flies

That last entry was whiny. Sorry about that. Every now and again whining happens.

Speaking of whiny, sometimes I peruse the pregnancy websites. Particularly the "loss" sites. I am very grateful women have a support group they can tap into at any time. Especially since miscarriage is something that most people still don't talk about. But, I worry about that extreme focus on trying to conceive. Charting temperatures, using monitors, only having sex when you are "fertile". What a waste of your precious time. I understand the want/need to have a baby. I've never wanted anything more (except maybe to be an astronaut). And I ache inside for a child. A true hurt. Like heartache. A very real, if strange phenomenon. However, I don't want to spend the time I have on this earth stressing about something that I have little control over. It makes much more sense to let nature take it's course (I know, easy for me to say when I've been pregnant twice in the last year) and move forward with your life and relationships. So many people only focus on what they want/don't have that they forget to appreciate what they do have. It's like their lives are moving in an endless circle until they get that thing they want. The thing about it is, that there will always be a thing. That one last thing you need to make you happy. That mentality will guarantee an unsatisfied life.

Ladies, relax. Pick up a book. Have lunch with your friends. Create life in the garden (you city dwellers can do this too!). Make love to your husband, for fun. Most importantly, be grateful for the gifts you've already received.

June was a Bitch

June began optimistically enough. My 34th birthday was June 1. My dad, who I hadn't talked to in at least three, maybe four years called me to wish me a happy birthday. I had reason to believe the emotional surges I'd been having were due to hormones... pregnancy hormones. My husband gave me a birthday party, with a margarita machine (yay!) and my period was late. Lateness to me over the previous six months was meaningless in and of itself. The nausea and breast tenderness (they hurt when I walked) was making me think (hope) I had conceived again. I waited eleven long days after expecting my period to pee on the stick.

I was up at the crack of dawn on Saturday, June 9, and received the response I expected, pregnant. Jubilant, I sat down at the computer to re-subscribe to the Baby Center website. I calculated my due date and re-read all the information for the baby's early development. I figured out the child's astrological sign to determine compatibility with my husband and myself. I waited impatiently for my husband to wake up so I could give him the news. When I couldn't wait any longer (it was 9:30), I crawled in bed, kissed my husband's cheek and waited for him to open his eyes. Slowly his eyes opened, he said "hi" and asked me what I had been doing. I told him I had been on the Internet and determined our baby was due February 9. The corner of his mouth turned up and he pulled me to him for a kiss. We spent the next few hours optimistic about the future.

We attended a graduation party that day. I told my husband's mother our news and asked for her prayers, since I figured we needed all we could get after last time. Later that day I started spotting. I went to the doctor the following Monday. We saw an egg sac in the ultrasound, but it was too early to see anything else. Many women spot during pregnancy. I felt optimistic, a feeling I'd never had six months earlier. I had to return to the doctor in a week's time, if we saw an embryo with a heartbeat at that time, chances were really good that the pregnancy would progress normally. By Wednesday night, I knew I was miscarrying.

The next weekend was Father's Day. We traveled to Home Town to be with the Dads. One of my husband's family members had suspected I was pregnant at the graduation party (obviously I was pregnant if I didn't drink), and with her brother and brother's wife confronted me about it on Father's Day. I must say, I possess extreme control at times. I wanted to give them a piece of my mind about their constant pregnancy talk. About asking why we haven't had a baby yet. How it's insensitive and cruel. They know I want a child, can't they consider the fact that I don't have one doesn't need to be pointed out to me? So I told them. Yes, I had a positive test, but I was spotting, and that I'd had one miscarriage, and I was pretty sure I was having another, but that I wouldn't know for certain until I went to the doctor in a few days. I asked them not to share with the family, my husband's grandfather is easily upset, and news like that would hurt him. I wanted to cry for them, lash out at them, to hurt them, but I didn't. Hopefully, they will learn to mind their business on their own.

The next week the doctor confirmed my miscarriage. Doctors keep telling me the good news is that I can get pregnant, there may be things that can help me stay pregnant. But they won't do any testing until after I have three consecutive miscarriages. Let's hope we never get to that point.

My car broke down while we were in Home Town. It couldn't be fixed before we had to drive home, so we had to borrow a car from our friends. The power steering went out on the borrowed car the next weekend. We took it to the shop to be fixed. Meanwhile in Home Town, the shop working on my car determined (after a week and a half) that they couldn't do the repairs on my car. My father in law drove it to the dealer after the first shop "put it back together". I received a call from the dealer telling me there were parts missing from my car and that there were no fluids running through the engine. I called First Shop and they suggested the dealer check the trunk for the parts. Because "putting together" a car means placing the parts in the trunk. The dealer charged $250 just to put the parts back on so they could diagnose the original problem. Yes, I will get First Shop to reimburse me for that. I'm married to an attorney after all. So my car got fixed. And there doesn't seem to be any lasting engine damage.

The final weekend in June (THANK GOD), we drove to Home Town for my cousin's 50th birthday party. A few miles down the freeway, the drive shaft fell out of the borrowed car. Yes, the back end of the drive shaft snapped and dragged under the car (truck) right on the freeway. I pulled over and started to laugh with tears pouring down my face and I thought for a moment that my sanity had finally escaped me. I just couldn't believe that so much shit could happen in one month. I was done. I felt at that moment that I could curl up and sleep for a very long time. I might even enjoy a little relaxation time in the loony bin. We still drove to Home Town, barely got to the dealer in time to pick up my car, and managed to attend the birthday party.

July has been a much better month.

Faith or Optimism?

I've always considered myself a person of deep faith. I am not a Christian, although I believe Jesus was a great teacher of tolerance (the irony here is that so many of his followers are intolerant). I don't actually "subscribe" to any religion. I ultimately believe in the basic tenants that underlie all religions. I also believe that at the end of the day all religions point to the same "being". Whether that being is God, Allah, Buddha, or the Goddess, I cannot say. Simply, I don't presume to be that into the loop to KNOW what the truth is one way or the other. I do believe that we see different manifestations because of the great diversity among people. What holds true in one mind is not the same in another. Anyway, I'm off my original topic. Let's just say I know everything that happens in life is for a reason. I know my life will work out the way it's meant to. I know that if I'm moving in a positive direction with my words and actions, my life path will unfold before me. I have unwavering faith in this.

I was having a conversation with a gentleman I work with the other day. Somehow we got on the topic of religion (did I mention he has invited coworkers to church?). I tried to explain my position, about my faith. He informed me I don't have faith, I have optimism. I started to think. And question. And worry. Is this gentleman saying that you must have religion in order to have faith? Maybe my definition of myself is skewed. Maybe all this time I held onto the fact I am a faithful person when really I'm just an optimist. Here are some of my thoughts on the matter:

First, I like to start with definitions. I still like getting my New World Dictionary, Second College Edition (1980!) off the shelf. I like books, and the dictionary is a wonderland of words.

Optimism: 1. a.) the doctrine held by Leibniz (huh?) and others that the existing world is the best possible b.) the doctrine or belief that good ultimately prevails over evil 2. the tendency to take the most hopeful or cheerful view or matters or to expect the best outcome

Faith: 1. unquestioning belief that does not require proof or evidence 2. unquestioning belief in God, religious tenets, etc. 3. a religion or a system of religious beliefs 4. anything believed 5. complete trust, confidence or reliance 6. allegiance to some person or thing; loyalty

Now, I don't deny that I am an optimistic person. I choose to look on the bright side of situations. I choose to believe in the good in people. The definition of optimism implies choice, when you "take" the most hopeful or cheerful view, you are choosing to believe one way or the other. The definition of faith however seems very clear that there is no decision or choice. You either have faith in something or your don't. Naturally this can apply to any number of things, people, situations or institutions. And you can most certainly have both.

That was easy. My sense of self is restored. I am faithful. I am optimistic. I'm back to me.

I'm a bitch

I've been in a serious funk the past few days. I don't really know what my problem is. I generally feel like spitting the most noxious words I can find at everyone who talks to me. Considering I spend most of my time interacting with people at work, you would be AMAZED to see the self control I possess. Unfortunately that means I save up all my nastiness for home and my dear, darling, (he better not try to touch me), husband. I think only my husband and my family know how truly awful I can be. Very dark, very mean. I wonder if this isn't that chemical imbalance that runs deeply in my biological father's family. I guess I can be grateful that I only get weirdly moody and bitchy sometimes. My paternal grandmother was like that ALL the time.