On: Being Alive

IT'S ALIVE! Oh, wait. I mean, I'm alive.

Yikes, you know life has changed when you realize you haven't blogged since September. That's a bad thing. I know.

In my defense my well structured life suddenly changed, and I'm still dealing with the aftermath. The Marine, Munchkin, Boy Wonder, and I no longer live in the land of sand and rocks. We're back in the PNW. The gray and rainy state of one of my favorite authors, Christina Dodd. Needless to say, it's been an adjustment. Though, thankfully, the weather has been mild and less rainy than it usually is. It's been easier to acclimate from constant sun when most days recently have at least had a glimmer of sunshine.

We survived the drive from California, and even survived the moving company misplacing our household goods for a week. Now we're in our new home. We're not settled, but that has a lot to do with my own OCD tendencies when it comes to organization.

I'm choosing to view this move as a good thing. I'm focusing on all the positives and all the new possibilities that are waiting ahead. I can't wait to be settled in so my little family and I can start living again.

How have things been with you, dear readers?

R.S.

On: Saying Goodbye

On Tuesday one of my closest friends checked into a new duty station. The Marines did this to prep him for his upcoming year long deployment to the Middle East. You would think, being married to the Marine, I would be used to this, but honestly, you never get used to it.

I've known my friend, the Captain, for a long time. Almost as long as I've been with the Marine. Our friendship has withstood living on different coasts and in different countries. In fact the last four months have been the only time, aside from when we first met, that we've even been in the same state.

It's funny how you can start relying on a person in a different way when they live down the street from you, and not a world away. His moving away, while not any different than the previous years of friendship, is harder this time. He won't be joining the Marine and I for late night Wii games, where we find out we're only smarter than a fifth grader when we work together. He won't be around for the Munchkin to chase and make funny faces at. In fact, not too long from now, he won't be just a text message away.

That's okay though, he's doing what he's supposed to do. What's he's meant to do, and I couldn't be more proud of him. This is who he is, and I wouldn't change that for anything.

Doesn't mean saying goodbye was easy, or that I won't miss him. I always will, because that's what being a friend often entails.

Have you ever had to say goodbye to a friend? I'd love to know your story.

R.S.

On: Class, Working Out, and Plotting

Once again, it's been a while since I posted. Over the past four weeks I've spent far too much time analyzing terrorist activity, studying Al Capone, and realizing that I'll never be a criminal analyst. I'll save that for people who can focus on one thing for longer than the time it takes to eat a cookie.

During that time if anyone had peeked in my windows they would have seen a person living in workout clothes, a messy ponytail, and most likely spots of burp-up on me. I would likely have been sitting on the couch, lap top beside me, Boy Wonder in my lap, feeding him and studying. I might even have been actually typing with one hand.

I wasn't sure I was going to survive, let alone finish the class. It was a close one. Especially when everything was do by one minute to midnight yesterday, and I still had a final counter-terrorism scenario to create as well as a twenty question short answer exam to do.

Luckily, I made it, and I couldn't be happier.

During the crazy last couple of weeks, my only 'relaxation' or 'me time' I took, was the twenty-five minutes a day it took to complete T-25 (and sometimes a shower--don't judge). It helped keep my sanity. I'm seven weeks down with only three more weeks left of the program. I'm not ashamed to admit, I'll miss it when I'm done, but I can always go back. I've also started Shaun T's Hip Hop Abs program (and no, I really don't think I'll ever be able to move like they do. Good thing I keep the curtains closed when I workout.) it's a lot of fun, and will help me reach my post-baby body goals.

I've also spent my quality shower time plotting. I refused to allow terrorist or Al into the shower with me. Instead I've been focusing on the books of essays I've been plotting. I've got some of them done, but I have a feeling they're going to take a different turn than I first imagined, and that's okay.

I hope this Labor Day has found you safe and happy. Best wishes,

R.S.

On: What I've Been Reading

Since I've been spending a lot of time on the couch, feeding Boy Wonder, and snuggling with him, I've run out of episodes of CSI: NY to watch on Netflix. I pulled out my trusty Kindle the other day and started catching up on my digital TBR pile.

Let's be honest.

I'll never catch up on my TBR pile, digital or otherwise. Why? Because I keep adding new books to it. In the last week I've read five Lori Foster books, a Brenda Novak book, and recently started reading (in paperback) the Chicken Soup for the Soul: Parenthood book.

It's true, it has made me cry more times than it has made me laugh, but I can't help but keep reading it.

What have you been reading? Inquiring minds want to know.


R.S.

On Recreating Myself. Again.

It's been almost two months since Boy Wonder was born, and during that time I've enjoyed the snuggles, grins, and warmth that comes from his little body while he sleeps in my arms. I've enjoyed watching him grow and change, and seeing the expressions on his face as he becomes more aware of the world around him.

 What I haven't enjoyed is feeling like I've lost myself somewhere. I'm not the same person I was when the Munchkin was born. At that time, my life was completely different than it is now. I hadn't started school yet (that happened when she was three months old), and I wasn't actively writing, blogging, or doing anything particularly crafty or time consuming.

 My world revolved around my daughter and keeping the house clean. Occasionally we would run errands or go hangout at a friend's house, but mostly we would spend time snuggled on the couch, or playing on the floor. No matter what it was, I wasn't stressed out. I didn't worry about some huge thing looming over my head, and because of this, I felt like I had the parenting thing down.

Things aren't quite so simple anymore. Even though I realize a lot of the issues I'm having currently, are of my own making, I seem helpless to walk away from them. I've got the self-imposed deadlines looming over me. Things that really aren't set in stone, that I feel like I'm falling behind on. It makes no sense, while at the same time making too much sense.

I've got homework for a class I can't drop, and I know that no matter what I'll make it through it, but still I stress about every second of the day. There are other things that could go by the wayside, and not doing them won't matter a bit in a day, a week, or a year, but they hang over me like a dark cloud. I just want to enjoy the time I have with my son before he grows up and these days are gone.

I need to find peace with myself.

 I've been told that each child changes you, that with each new life you create, they recreate you into a different (and hopefully) better version of yourself. I firmly believe this. The person I became after the birth of the Munchkin was one I was proud of. I know, given time and patience, the person my son will create out of the stressed out ashes of my previous self, will be awesome.

Until then, I need to focus on what is really important. Spending time with my children. Taking a few moments to put away what I've incorrectly decided was important, for what is truly important. Whether that is reading a book with the Munchkin or dancing around the living room with her; feeding Boy Wonder (who seems to be a bottomless pit just like the Marine), or comforting him while he screams in my ear and shakes his little fists angrily.

The creating of art for myself and to sell, can take a backseat until a time when my children need me just a little less. The writing of the hundreds of books running through my head, can wait until Boy Wonder doesn't need to eat every two hours, and the Munchkin doesn't want to show me what new dance step she just created when she was supposed to be brushing her teeth.

It's time to sit back and let the re-creating begin, without the fight I've been giving it, because in my heart I know it's time for that change, I'm just having a hard time letting go of the old me for an uncertain future with a new me.

Have you ever had experiences like this? I really would love to know your stories.

R.S.

On: The People from Our Pasts

I've been thinking a lot about my past. Maybe it's because children always make you reflect on life. Maybe it's because, I often wonder how I got to this place. How I made it to the person I am today. 

It would be a joke to think I'm here today solely on my own merits. 

I'm here, the person I am in the place I'm in, not only because, of who I am inside, but because, of the people who touched my life in the past. 

There have been dozens, maybe hundreds, possibly even thousands of people who have changed the course of my life, just by happenstance. However, I rarely think of them.

 Every once in a while, when major changes happen in my life, I find myself thinking about a girl I used to know. 

We'd grown up in the same town, went to the same high school, and participated in the same activities, but we weren't truly friends until after the thrill of graduation, and the realization that the friends we'd made in school weren't friends who could go the distance. 

After my first marriage deteriorated and I found out I was pregnant, she's the person who drove through the night with me from the bright lights of California to the towering trees and cloudy skies of Washington, to escape the unhealthy situation I'd found myself in. 

Two months later, she held my hand as my body fought to save a baby that didn't have a chance, and I lost my son to a medical mistake. 

She is the person who grabbed me by the heart and forced me to start living life again, when all I felt capable of doing was hiding in the dark and crying. 

 There are hundreds of photos of us together. Moments of our lives captured, frozen in time forever. I have them in a box in the closet. I can pull out a photo and remember the exact moment it was taken. A pretty neat trick considering most of the photos were taken while alcohol was flowing freely, and we weren't feeling any pain. 

During those times, my only plan was to live life without true emotion. To have fun, to smile, to have a good time, but to never dig too deeply into my heart, because that is where the darkness would overcome me. I drank to have fun, I drank to be fun, and I drank to hold off the memories of dreams I'd only begun to have. 

Our party days had to come to an end sometime, and that happened when I eventually opened my heart enough to let it heal. I got married to the Marine, moved to Hawaii, and life slowly began again. 

We maintained our friendship through several moves--from Hawaii to Virginia, but when I finally moved back to the same coast, back this time to California, things changed. 

She had her third child, a son, and I wasn't there for the birth. I hadn't been the first person to hear about the pregnancy, and I found out about the birth weeks after the fact. 

We never had a falling out, never had a blowup of any kind. We just got caught up with our own lives. I wish things could be different, but they're not. Life goes on, and some people aren't supposed to be there forever. Some people have a specific job to do, and once it is done, they move on. 

When I think of her, there is a tinge of sadness for the memories of long ago, but there is mostly happiness. 

Happiness, because of the life I have now. The choices she helped me make. The adventures we had that led me to where I was supposed to be. 

I only hope, I helped her as much as she helped me. 

R.S.

Do you have someone from your past that you think fondly of? I'd love to hear the story.

On: A Letter to a Long Ago Friend

I was thinking about you today, and then pictures of your kiddos popped up on my newsfeed. As a person who hasn't ever particularly thought people's kiddos were cute, I've got to say, you and Andrew have made some gorgeous little ones.

I've missed talking to you, and wish that we could have stayed in better touch. I often wonder how it is that we managed to remain close the whole time we lived on opposite coasts, yet as soon as we're on the same coast our lives seemed to have taken us in different directions.

I realized today I no longer know what you do in your spare time or what interests you. The person who was with me through some of my most difficult experiences in life, I don't know anymore.

I'm sure you're just as amazing as you were then, but I find at times it feels like a piece of me disappeared when we stopped talking. 

I'm happy and healthy, and I have a great life. A life so much better than I ever expected it would be after losing G.

I gave birth to my son just under seven hours before G's ninth birthday. I like to believe one brother helped the other into the world.

I hope your life is as happy as mine, and that your dreams and goals are everything you wished them to be all those years ago.

Maybe someday, we'll be able to catch up again, because even though I've made new friends, great friends, there is always a place in my heart where you belong.

R.S.

On: CSI NY

I've spent the last couple of days snuggled on the couch with Boy Wonder, working on posts for my various blogs, and watching CSI:NY on Netflix.

First it was Miami, now it's NY. I'm addicted.

Maybe there's a twelve step program I should look into.

A couple years ago I actually met Gary Senise when he and the Lt. Dan Band came to our base for a concert. He's actually a really nice guy who came off as being very quiet. After posing for the typical fan photo, he asked me to thank The Marine for his service to the country.

What are your favorite shows?

On: Reading, Re-evaluating, and Relaxing

As of tomorrow, Boy Wonder will be one month old. It's amazing how quickly they grow and change, and how quickly they grow and change us.

I'm reminded how important my goals, plans, and dreams are, because each and every one of them are for a better life for my little ones. I'm also reminded, daily, that things take time, and I need to be patient.

There are so many things I want to accomplish, and I'm anxious to get started.

 Anxious to get words on paper (or screen).

Anxious to get back to my pre-baby body, again. Hopefully this time it won't take me four years. It shouldn't since I'm only ten pounds shy of my pre-pregnancy weight and still have two weeks before the six week-get-off-my-butt-and-workout date of July 18. I've been doing what I can to start the process. Eating right, walking, and doing daily yoga.

Unfortunately, I'm still not getting as much sleep as I'd like, but that too will change in time.

So far, my routine doesn't involve as much of my goal oriented focus as I would like. Instead it is full of snuggling with my little man, catching up on all the reading I didn't have the mental focus for while I was pregnant, and taking it easy. These are all important things, and I cherish these little moments, because they won't last long. Boy Wonder won't always want to snuggle, or sleep curled up on me.

I have a tendency to stress myself out when I'm not moving toward a goal, so I spend a lot of time telling myself that each day, every snuggle, every nap, is getting me one step closer to where I want to be mentally, physically, and monetarily.

Not to mention, nothing makes me happier than snuggling with Boy Wonder and reading a good book while he softly snores.

Life isn't always simple, but when it is, it's important to enjoy the simplicity.

R.S.

ON: Getting on With Life

Again, I've been a horrible blogger, but I'm not going to apologize this time.

Instead, I'll try and do better.

Boy Wonder is three weeks old today, and we're still trying to get our routine down. Having a newborn is a huge change for me. It's been almost six years since we had a newborn in our home. Everyone has experienced a learning curve this time around.

For some reason, the first time seemed easier.

Maybe, because the first time, I had nothing to compare it to. I didn't know what to expect, and this time I did. Of course, knowing what to expect doesn't mean things are going to go as expected. Every child is different.

Boy Wonder is no exception.

He's gorgeous, and solid. There is no chub on him other than his cheeks, but he's got some serious weight behind him. If he keeps his body style, he'll be perfect for football. Something I don't even want to contemplate.

However, for the first two weeks he had his schedule backwards. Night was day, and day was night. It was miserable for me. In a house full of early birds, having a night owl proved to be complicated and difficult. When he puts his mind to it, BW can sleep like nobody's business.

He's finally figuring out a better schedule.

Now that things on the sleep schedule front are getting better, I have hopes that we'll get a routine down that will allow me to balance all the other responsibilities in my life. Like writing.

I've missed it.

I realized the other day that a novel I'd written two years ago, but never edited or published, has been niggling at my brain again. The characters want their story told. I hope soon, I can make that a reality for them.

There are also other writing projects I've been sitting on for a while. Some I actually made a little progress on during my maternity sabbatical.

My plan was to have them published before the new year. I'm honest enough with myself to say that is highly unlikely. Getting pregnant and having a baby tend to put a crimp in plans and New Years Goals. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to hit any of those goals mentioned here. Good thing, I'm flexible. That's the thing about goals. They don't go away just because the date changes.

What has been going on in your lives? I'd love to know.

R.S.

The Finish Line: Boy Wonder Arrives

It was a typical sunny day in the desert, and the weather man promised excessive heat for the next four days. I was thirty-eight weeks pregnant, and like every other day of the past nine months my stomach dictated what I wanted to eat. That’s what brought me to the base’s Starbucks at 1107. Before I’d reached the door I could taste the delicious brownie I had my heart set on.

Then my water broke.

In front of six Marines who barely looked old enough to shave.

If things happened the way Hollywood portrayed them, those Marines would have had a story to tell their buddies when they got back to work. Luckily for me, when my water broke, nature took its course and the water was more of a trickle than a gush.

Knowing what was important, I still got my brownie.

The drive to the hospital took six minutes--an eternity when every bump and stop caused a fresh gush of fluid to escape. When my sister and I secured a coveted ‘expectant mother’ parking spot we hustled, or in my case, waddled with a sense of urgency, to the labor and delivery floor.

Labor and delivery at the base hospital is a lot like any other place in the military. A lot of hurry up and wait. Once I was secured into a room and strapped into an uncomfortable bed with monitors and IVs, the real fun started. 

By fun, I mean the lying around waiting for the contractions to actually start doing something.

Five hours after I arrived, the doctor pushed Pitocin into my IV, in an attempt to move my labor along. Every hour a nurse came in and upped the amount of the drug dripping into my body, and every hour was the same. A lot of waiting without change. 

It wasn’t until nine hours and half a season of Veronica Mars later, something finally happened. My contractions stopped playing nice and sent a pain through my body so intense the world went black. It felt like something had broken. The Marine later told me it was probably his wrist cracking when I put him in a wrist lock.

I rode the pain of each contraction, silently for the next hour. Veronica Mars was still playing on the television, but I couldn’t focus on what was happening. I no longer cared whether she was with Logan or some other guy. With each contraction, the pain escalated. By the time I was ready to give up on the idea of a pain medication free birth, the doctor informed me I was too far along. My son would arrive within the next two hours.

For those of you who have never experienced child birth, two hours is an interminable amount of time. It might as well be nine months. I didn’t want to contemplate another two hours of my insides being torn apart by Edward Scissorhands or my own personal torturer--Freddy from Nightmare on Elm Street.  

As it turns out, Boy Wonder wasn’t interested in hanging out that long either.

 Thirty minutes later I demanded, to the room at large, to get the doctor, because the baby was coming. I’m not sure who went for the doctor, or hit the call button, because at that moment I was hoping to go numb from the waist down. Blacking out would have been okay too.

Within moments the room was packed like a frat house on a Friday night after finals. Aside from my three person morale team that included the Marine, my sister, and my dear friend (and work husband), Corpsman K, there was a fleet of medical personnel: A doctor, a nurse, and three Navy Corpsmen. The perfect beginning to a joke.

It was a regular party, and I was the girl on the table.

I pushed for thirty minutes, and during that time I realized some very important things.

 I’m stronger than I gave myself credit for.

 It is possible to silence an entire delivery room with a single look directed at Corpsman K when he made a comment about his arms being sore from fanning me off with a clipboard.

The song Ring of Fire has a whole new meaning to me now.

At 2215 on June 6, 2013 Boy Wonder came into the world. Six hours shy of nine years to the day his brother was born an angel. On the anniversary of D-Day. To the sound of Taps playing across the base.

For the third time in my life, I experienced love at first sight.  

On: The Final Stretch

I've become the worst type of writer and blogger. You know the type. The one who hasn't bothered blogging. To be honest, until a few moments ago I didn't realize it had been quite so long. The days are all blending together.

That might have something to do with the day to day life of a pregnant woman. There just aren't enough hours in the day, enough energy in the body, or enough motivation to keep up with anything more than the basics of living.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel though! I'm nearly there. Boy Wonder is due June 10th, but there is just as much chance he'll be born earlier, because he's showing signs of being more than ready to make his appearance. After spending a delightful day hooked up to monitors in Labor and Delivery last week, the doctor told me she'd be surprised if he didn't come much sooner. It really all depends on him.

Now, I haven't been completely away from the writing bug. I have been working on a new project. Different from my usual writings, but hopefully just as good. If only I could find the motivation to work on it more. Even my motivation to do all the crafty things I've been doing in preparation for my son's arrival, have waned. Luckily, this happened after I finished the diaper bag, the changing pad, the burp cloths, the blankets, and the car seat wrap.

Everything is ready. I'm just waiting on him.

How have you all been?

R.S.

On: Days Off

Today, the Munchkin has off from school. Something about it being a teacher day. I don't really know. I do know, that she seems to have these free days every month.

Maybe it's just me, but I never had this many days off from school growing up.
So, instead of staying home today with her climbing off the walls, we are making a trip to Palm Springs to pick up things for the Belly Munchkin's arrival.

I've decided this time around two things: 1) Children don't need as much as a new mother might think, and 2) I'm making as much of the stuff that is needed, by hand. Since I'm teaching myself to sew, this is both fun and a challenge.

What do you do on days when your children have off from school?

R.S.

On: Rain

Many moons ago, the Marine whisked me away from the Pacific Northwest and the gray, dreary, rainy days I'd grown up with. Since that time the number of rain days I've experienced have been minimal. Especially since we've lived in the desert. I can count on one hand the number of days it's rained at our current home in the four years we've been here. 

Today included. 

Now, a lot of people love the rain and rejoice whenever it graces us with its wetness. 

Me, I'm the opposite. 

Days when it rains are longer, more depressing, and I often feel like Bane from Batman--or possibly the Wicked Witch of the West. It's possible it could melt me if I get trapped outside in it. 

Rain in my opinion is fine at night, while I'm sleeping, as long as all signs of it are gone by the first rays of light in the morning. 

And, that seems to happen even less than the rain. 

How do you feel about rain? What about snow? Are you a sun worshiper or do you rejoice in the moisture and change of rain?

R.S.

On: The Sound of Silence

I've heard the phrase, 'the sound of silence' a few times (okay, a few hundred) in my life. Now, on the rare occasion when I wake up before the Munchkin, one of my first thoughts other than, 'I have to pee' and 'wow, she's still asleep, I must mark this on a calendar', is about how much I love the sound of silence. It's complete, it's beautiful, and it's a calm like nothing else I will experience all day.

Then my mind comes up with this.

If silence is silent, can it really be classified as a sound?

R.S.

On: Life in the Baby Making Lane

Things are a lot different this time around than they were when I was carrying the Munchkin. I don't have half as much time to lounge around and do nothing. I haven't decided if this is a blessing or a curse. Most likely it is both.

I'm starting to make lists for the Belly Munchkin's arrival. Whether I'll actually ever manage to check anything off those lists is yet to be seen. I have however, been able to squeeze some time in for weekly yoga. Not as much as I managed before I started carrying around an additional person, but at least it is still something. I've also recently started attending an prenatal aqua-fitness class designed specifically for my friend and I by the director and assistant director of the pool I worked at pre-pregnancy.

It's been nice getting back into the water, even if that meant finding a swimsuit to fit around my expanding middle. I guess, out here in the middle of the desert, near a military base where the number one past time seems to be procreating, they don't actually find it necessary to offer maternity anything. I guess they just expect those women who often times jump from pregnancy to pregnancy to walk around naked while they're gestating.

That's a thought for another day, I'm sure.

I've got the goal of producing two books this year, and I haven't really started working on anything at all, because I seem to only have the ability to power one brain at a time, and since growing a brain is very important, my thoughts have been jumbled and not wholly useful in the world of my writing career. I've been tossing around ideas, and some how I know everything will find a way of working out.

I would love to hear what is going on in my dear readers' lives.

R.S.

On: Moments of Growing

Today, the Munchkin got a little bit bigger, a little older. Yes, this happens each and every day, but today was different. Today she moved out of her toddler bed and into a big girl bed. A bright shiny bunk bed with full sized futon as the bottom bed.

She loves it.

The Marine and I realized we had to do this, not only because she is getting taller by the day, but because in a few months we'll be welcoming the newest member of our family. The Belly Munchkin, and he is going to need the toddler bed transformed back into a crib.

Each day brings changes and moments of growing. Not just for the children in our lives, but for us as well. Each day brings the birth of our son that much closer. While it's still several months away, those months will fly by. Taken up with daily life, school, crafts, and living. This pregnancy has already flown by in a way I wasn't prepared for.

Guess I better start preparing. :)

R.S.

On: Valentines Day

We don't really celebrate Valentine's Day in our house. Instead, we focus on showing love each and every day. We're not big into the heart shaped boxes of chocolate, or the bouquet of roses. We are into spending as much quality time together as we can.

Guess that explains my lack of writing recently.

So, what are your plans for today?  Roses, chocolate, bottles of bubbly?  I'd love to know.

R.S

On: My Anniversary

February 5th marked eight years since the Marine and I tied the knot. Of those eight years, we were together to celebrate our anniversary only twice. Including this year. Being married to a Marine makes for some lonely holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries, but you know what else it does? It makes you appreciate those rare moments you're actually together.

This year, the Marine and I went to a Japanese steakhouse (where I actually used chopsticks to eat the entire meal!) to celebrate the momentous occasion--you know having made it through eight years without blood shed--and had an amazing and wonderful time. Aside from the crazy traffic, and my uncanny ability to hit every red light between here and there. It was nice to spend time with my husband, without worrying about entertaining the Munchkin the entire time. I can also admit, it was the first time in forever I've gotten a chance to dress up. I even wore a pair of strappy heels.

Spending my anniversary with the father of my children was made all the more amazing by the kindness of strangers. We shared our table with an older couple who came to the U.S. before the Korean War. The gentleman served in the Royal Air Force, and then again served in our military as well. They had wonderful stories about their lives and their children. At the end of the meal, they did something we weren't expecting, and had nothing to do with our anniversary, but everything to do with the Marine's service to our country. They bought us dinner.

I'm not even ashamed to say I choked up.

It was a wonderful night, and I won't ever forget the kindness of strangers who shared a common bond. Military service and patriotism.

What is your favorite anniversary memory?

R.S.

On: Reading

I'm usually an incredibly fast reader, but recently I haven't been able to concentrate long enough to actually start a book, let alone finish one.  This is depressing to me.

I love reading, but my brain keeps bouncing from thought to thought. Maybe I need to find something new to read.

I enjoy romantic suspense and murder. Any suggestions on awesome books to read?

R.S.

On: Friday Tidbits

Life is moving along in my world. I haven't sat down to write recently, not something that a writer should admit.

I've been splitting my focus between school, Munchkin, and an uncontrollable need to create things with my hands.

Crocheted baby blankets, hats, scarves.

Plus, I've recently become the proud owner of a sewing machine, so I'm slowly learning the ropes on that.

I keep telling myself to sit and write, but it hasn't worked. I feel like I've got the attention span of a gnat on crack.

Soon, right?

What about you?

R.S.

On: Baby News

So, the Marine and I found out we are going to be the proud parents of a baby boy come June. The Munchkin is excited to welcome her brother, and is looking forward to being a big sister.

Now to just get through the next few months.

What things are you looking forward to in the coming months?

R.S.

On: Jimmy's World

* This was meant to go out at 0600 Friday, but some how I forgot to actually publish it. I blame pregnancy brain.

I don't know if many of you ever read the article "Jimmy's World", in the Washington Post on September 28, 1980. It won a Pulitzer Prize, that was later returned when the truth of the article came to light. Click here for the article.

Maybe it’s because I write fiction myself that the first half of the article actually sounded like the beginning of a story, not of an article in a well respected newspaper. The details were too flowery for me to not question the legitimacy of it. I’m not saying journalist don’t have a way with words, but there tends to be a more clinical feel to every article I’ve ever read. 

Whereas, a lot of people wouldn’t believe it, because the thought of a child being shot up by an adult, and none of the adults doing anything about it, seems too horrible and farfetched, that isn’t what rings false for me. Granted, that could be, because I’ve seen the track marks first hand on a child who was much younger than eight (the daughter of a neighbor who, thanks to police intervention no longer has access to the poor child). This world is a horrible and terrifying place a lot of the time.

Which does bring me to another thing I found questionable, and had I not already suspected the article of being a mostly well done work of fiction, would have made me (especially if I was an editor) wonder about the authenticity of the article. Where was the police intervention? Where was the school or CPS? I realize in the 80’s things weren’t like they are now, but even then, as a child in San Diego, I remember my teacher showing up on my doorstep with my homework when I missed more than one day of class.  

What are you thoughts and insights into this article? I'd love to know. 

R.S.

On: New Year, New Goals, New Plans

Everyone seems to make resolutions at the beginning of each new year. I've never been good with resolutions.

I'm much better with the word goals. Goals seem to be something solid. Something you can make legitimate plans for.

Anyone who knows me, knows I'm happiest when there is a plan of action in place.

Gone are the days when flying by the seat of my pants was the way to go. Anymore, the thought of that makes me a little queasy and ready to run for the hills.

I think I'm getting old.

Being pregnant doesn't help that either, especially when I have to hit the restroom every 45 minutes without fail. My bladder has shrunk to the size of a pea. Possibly a dehydrated baby pea.

Anyway, onto the Goals for the 2013 year.

• Blog at least once every week, on Fridays.
• Become more active in promoting my blog, and connecting with others through social media.
• Write one piece of Flash Fiction each month.
• Self-publish two more works. Either novels or short stories.
• Give birth to a happy and healthy baby.
• Return to my everyday yoga practice.
• Finish my yoga instructor training (the one that got postponed due to pregnancy)
• Keep positive reminders around me, so when I feel down or dark I can remember the good.
• Snuggle with my children as often as possible.
• Take time for myself.
• Make time for at least one date night a month (when the Marine is home).
• Be the best version of me I can be.

  Make 2013 your year. I know I will.

 What are your goals and plans for the New Year? I'd love to hear. 

R.S.

On: Soup On A Cold Desert Night

I know, it isn't much of a picture, but what can be expected from a cell phone. ;)

It's been a bit chilly here in the desert, so I thought I'd try out my new crockpot. The old one died a few weeks ago while I was making beef stew. That was a sad day.

Anyway, I grabbed the leftover turkey from Christmas, some carrots, mushrooms, onion and celery, and tossed it into the pot along with a can of of chicken broth and a can of cream of mushroom chicken soup. Did I mention the 'splash' of wine? ;)

Anyway after eight hours it was divine, and we'll have leftovers again tomorrow.

What is your favorite soup on a day like this?

R.S.