Oh, the Suspense!

When a gregarious, open person chooses to be in a relationship with a quiet, “close to the vest” kind of fellow, it really broadens one’s perspective. Never more so when there is a secret to be kept or waiting to be done. I can’t keep a secret… And waiting is killing me. What I’ve realized, however, is that he isn’t saying anything, but the suspense is killing him too. Let the countdown to the big ultrasound begin. I don’t even have a preference, I’ve just gotta know what colors to make the baby’s room…. And what kind of A’s gear to get “Daddy’s future little super fan”

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The Greatest Adventure

I’ve been craving movies from my childhood lately, especially the ones I want to make sure my own children get to see and remember. One of those is my beloved “Hook”. I loved it as a kid, I bought when it was still in VHS and my oldest watched it till she killed it, and the VCR as well, if I recall correctly. I was lying in bed this morning, using morning sickness as an excuse to be lazy for a moment, and recalled my favorite line from the whole movie, when Peter makes it back safely to his family and is standing, holding them all to him. Wendy asks him what to do, now that his adventure has ended and he smiles, and says “To live… to live, will be an awfully big adventure…”

I thought about the changes we have made to our little family. Welcoming an amazing man as husband and father to our super exclusive club, and now, my belly swells with the (final?) member of our loving little family, a miraculous and breathtaking result of a love so big that no person or distance or temporal want could stand in the way.

How amazing is the adventure of life! How could I want to be anything but a writer, when there is a story so big that encompasses the whole world? A living organism that is connected over continents and into oceans, through forests and wild creatures that live purely on instinct, through saints and sinners and greatest compassion and most terrible violence. Every story is there to be written, and every voice unique that tells them. I am overwhelmed with the love I have for this sweet growing story inside me, as much as for each of her siblings. That love that binds like steel, and burns with the hottest flame that is motherhood.

My God, the gratitude I have for this gift.

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It’s Official!

This is entirely unimportant to the whole world, I get that. But, but but but but! I am feeling so grateful for the blessings in my life that I decided to overshare.
I was struck recently by the amazing people in my life.  I have been down and received gifts that brought me to tears, in need and been provided for by people I could never have asked for assistance. I am surrounded by so much support, and respect, and appreciation, and real, honest to God goodness, that when the ugly and evil and cruel rear their heads, I can’t help but be taken aback. I mean, really, truly shocked, every time. It might be because I’ve never lived on the east coast, but I digress.

You know the kind of mean, ignorant, low behavior I’m talking about. Like the guy that cuts you off and slams on his brakes, then flips YOU off, or the stranger who verbally attacks you for glancing at them because they happen to be having a bad day, or the cashier/teller/attendant/coworker who is a jerk because they have no power in their lives and are trying to exert some over you; et cetera, et cetera, insert your own douche nozzle experience here…
So. I had such an experience and took a long hard look at my life while deciding if I could handle being a lady about it. I have good, true friends, a family chock full of brilliant, lovely people I adore, and children I’m crazy about. Then there’s this guy. I like him a lot. So much, in fact, that when he asked “So, are you gonna marry me?” I didn’t even pause before my “Well, of course!” No matter what little slings and arrows come my way, no matter what history tries to repeat itself, I have my best friend along the way. Even far apart, we spend all our free time together. (Thank you Skype!)

… And to make my life even better, when I gave him the option of picking our wedding day, he totally picked the day I would have. So now it’s official. Let the planning begin!

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Back to school… Again.

It’s not that I’m a terrible writer… It’s that I’m a terrible show-er (which translates to terrible writing). But as I always tell my daughter when she complains about going to orchestra, talent is not enough. It has to be nurtured, strengthened, and encouraged. Even professional athletes have coaches helping them to improve their skills. If I want to be an awesome writer-mom, I have to practice what I preach. So, there will be an occasional assignment post, or excerpt from same, to keep me honest.


I see him desperately searching the ponderous stream of faces exiting the heavy security of the terminal, his brown eyes becoming visible and brightening as he presses against the slower moving traffic in his path. As he finally wends his way past the snail-paced crowd and breaks free of the terminal he slides a worn ball cap over short brown haired liberally splashed with early silver and adjusts his course towards me. His casual lope belies the excitement in his sunlight smile, dimples and crows’ feet deepening as his grin warms those golden eyes from slow, cool maple to molten honey.

Stretching to his full height as he finds room to move outside the crowded airport, he raises his long, lean arms above his head, his button down shirt lifting just enough to show the letters “I” and “e” in stark black on either side of his otherwise pale navel. The complete tattoo reads “I Walk Alone”. But, only I know that, as well as I know the Kanji on his upper arms hidden by the long-sleeved button down shirts he always wears, and the incomplete, never-to-be-finished (“No pain is worth it, I’ll just wear a shirt at the beach”) flame-dancer that covers his narrow back.

He stops just out of reach and sets down his suitcase. He lowers his eyes, hiding his gaze beneath the bill of the familiar, faded green bill of his A’s cap. His chest rumbles with quiet, perfectly male laughter as he enfolds me in his arms, nestling my head against the muscles over his ribcage. I inhale deep; his clean, soapy cologne filling my nostrils and drawing another deep, masculine chuckle from him at my contentment. He is not a large man, but with his arms around my body he feels like a giant, resting his chin on my head as though I were a child. His stillness cloaks me from the world and creates an island of just him and me, long fingers tangled in my hair and one hand holding my head against him, forcing me to cease my endless fidgeting and making me as still as he is.

His breath is hot on my forehead and temple. Cinnamon spice tickles my face as he bends to my height lips soft and heavy pressing against my skin. Hot velvet words travel from my ear to my sternum, abdomen, lower; tightening things low in my belly. My eyes burn but contain the watery relief that he’s home safe.

“I missed you too, hot girl.” He whispers, words caressing with gentle, unseen fingers. “I did miss you too.”

He reaches back without looking and finds the handle of the rolling suitcase. Shoulders hunching, suitcase in hand, he laces his long cool fingers between my smaller warm ones and sets a course for the waiting vehicle, sauntering across the pavement, quietly laughing at the frustrated woman striving to match his pace and not pull ahead.

And that, as noted, was assignment #1… Which, by the way, actually got a really complimentary review from “The Instructor” who shall henceforth be called, TT, Senor, Jefe, or Teach.

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Simple Truths

jon 001  I have faith in the power of the cascading effect of honesty. I have an acquaintance (a long ago friend) who chose, along with his wife, to come out as a gay man who is happily married to a woman and faithful in his non-SSA-accepting religion.
   Their brave journey was really started when they read the blog of another SSA (Same Sex Attracted)-man who was trying to live his own life with integrity and honestly admitting to the world his own feelings.
   First, I applaud both individuals and their spouses for making a conscious choice to live their lives the way they choose, free from the bullying of BOTH sides of the fence on this issue.
   Second, this is me, so this blog is a little self-absorbed (as expected).
   In a show of solidarity and friendship, I visited the blog of this old friend to really understand his family’s journey and be there for them. I read every blog entry, and then reread one.  The one in which his wife admitted to feelings of uncertainty regarding her husband’s attraction to people outside their marriage.
   Now, in her blog, she was specific to that being men, but as I’m sure anyone can attest to, that uncertainty can exist in any relationship.
   I have fought with the same uncertainty myself, with a very heterosexual partner. I was enlightened by her blog post as to the why and I will be forever grateful.
   In her post, this sweet wife refers to a change in her husbands tone and way of speaking with some men, men that she knew him to be attracted to. (Did I mention that this incredible couple has a relationship built on an amazing level of honesty?)  Because he talked to these men the way that attracted heterosexual men talk to girls, it made her feel unsafe in their relationship. Now, she understands that she has a truly loyal, devoted husband that would never engage in extramarital activities. However, how hard must it have been for her to finally hear her husband speak that way to someone other than her?

   I get it. Just because your partner is attracted to other people doesn’t mean they will act on it. (Which was part of her point). Now, I wish I was a better person, and could really, truly, accept that to the point of being comfortable with it. I promise I’ll work on it. My internal struggle is how to lose that fear that eats away at my faith in the man I love.
    I have abandonment issues. I get that. My sperm donor was a cheating dog who left us to the wolves. My upgrade (fabulous Dad) is ambitious and exacting and didn’t know that there was a void to be filled, let alone how to do it. Long to short, trust ain’t mah thang. So how do I accept that my handsome, charming, empathetic partner prefers the company of women, especially those he finds attractive? How do I trust that he won’t hurt me?

This is where I glanced down at the big fat solitaire on my left ring finger and had a mental discussion that went sort of like this:
“He loves you enough to propose…”
“Yeah, but he lives 2 states away and has complete autonomy.”
“He talks to you throughout the day…”
“And when he’s not talking to me?”
“Ummm, don’t know, that’s where the trust is supposed to come in.”
“I trust him.”
“Doesn’t sound like it”
“Fine. I trust him to not cheat, but not that he wouldn’t put another woman first in non-sexual ways.”

It went on for about 10 minutes, but you get the idea.

So I’m stuck. I have this great guy. Seriously, one of the best men I have ever known, by far. I also have a guy that just so happens to inadvertently hit all my buttons, neurosis-wise. Not his fault, not entirely all mine. Worst part is, I think he has truly given up some habits that he knows bother me the most, but it killed his social life, because now he isn’t hanging out with his girlfriends. So how do I learn to trust when my instincts scream at me that something is terribly, terribly wrong? I am not a faith-filled person. I have more questions than I think could ever be answered, and I am realizing more and more that there is a lot of anger under all of that. But tonight, I am borrowing the faith of a woman whose own struggle towers over mine, though she is managing it much more gracefully. Tonight I am choosing to be the master of my weaknesses, to demand discipline from my ever-unruly mind, and I’m going to really strive to trust on a new level… But only for him. It’s about all I can manage while I come to terms with the fact that he’s known me for years, and still wants to add a wedding band to that ring finger.

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Be My Valentine… But only if you aren’t broken

I know I keep promising myself that I will only write pertinent, writing-related things for my blog. Then the apartment gets quiet. Before I check on the children (because if it’s this quiet, there’s mischief afoot) I sit at the … Continue reading

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Late nights, long talks, & neuroses

I was told it would be a long hard road with this one. Truer statements have never been spoken. I think the road is a worthwhile one, and I don’t mind getting my hands a little dirty. It’s amazing, though, … Continue reading

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