Extended Version...

As an adult now for...

14 years, I've learned about the wonders of Farmer's Markets.  It's the best!!

Ah Nuts

We should all vote for 4th candidate. Deez Nuts, President of these United States. It would be and honor to be led by Nuts.

I get depresso if I don't have my espresso. #Coffee

Sex to feel better.

I was very upset the whole day today. Just very out of my body, and I felt like I was too much in myself, and I could feel the blackness near my heart about to engulf me in depression.

Tonight, my husband was very concerned. He said that I wasn’t myself, and he missed me. He asked me how he could help me.

I said, “can we make love?” He smiled and led me upstairs. And for 30 minutes he brought me back to myself, and all the stress, anger, guilt, pity, hate, and at last, all there was left after I was brought back down to the world was a weight lifting off my shoulders, and such love for him. I even told him.

Me: I love you.

Him: I love you too.

Me: No, I mean, I really love you. I’m in love with you.

I wanted him to know, that this was the love I felt for him. I put all that feeling I had for him in my declaration, and I felt desperate in this moment. His one response that melted me, no matter how small was, “I know,” as he hugged me from behind and kissed my shoulder.

He made me feel whole again, he relieved my stress, he took my mind off my anger, and he put my depression back at bay.

Him: Did we have sex just to have sex, or to make yourself feel better?

Me: Yes.

Laughter ensues.

I’m so happy I want to share it with the world.

Retro

butterflyinthewell, hello friend, I hope you get this. This is my 3rd attempt trying to post this, but every time I’m almost done writing, my screen goes blank and my whole text disappears. I want to say that I hope I didn’t offend you, and I had no intention to offend anyone. This poem when I wrote this was about the autistic boy I’ve been working with (I’m an ABA therapist and Respite care worker) who recently had a seizure (his first one) out of the blue, and I watched as his mom stared at him with such love while they were eating that it very much warmed my heart, that the image has been sticking with me for weeks, and I had to write it down.

When I wrote that his mind was in bondage and in chains, I wanted to include my own experiences teaching different autistic children on the spectrum how frustrated they get usually because if they’re completely non verbal, it must feel infuriating to them because all the words they want to say could be on the tip of their tongue, but unable to fully go over the edge to form words, but the love AND freedom is in the way they express themselves, in like you said, “flapping of the hands, laughing, spinning or jumping,” as a form of communication. And again, I hope I didn’t offend, it was not my intention. My experience with this boy has been amazing, and I know that I’m on his mind, because once when I went away for a month on vacation, and came back, he did stare at me, and sat on my lap, and I knew that I was loved and trusted. I still smile at that memory, because I love him and his whole family.

I guess, now that I think about it, it’s not much of a prison if you have loved ones around to keep you grounded, and those willing to help you out to the best of their ability, and to know that you have a whole community backing you up. Thank you, friend, for calling me out so that I can experience other peoples experiences. Again, I hope I didn’t offend you too much, it was not my intention to upset you. But this was a great learning experience in how people deal with obstacles in their lives. Thank you for also sharing part of your story.

His eyes...

she thought, are beautiful. There is life in there far beyond her reach.

Behind his eyes was freedom, far from the chains of his mind and the complex bondage he was held fast to. If only he could reach out. But he is left with a blank stare and various stimulation that were expressed with a flap of his arms, and twirling, his constant twirling around.

She held fast though, returning each time to look into his eyes, because she knew, she knew there was freedom behind his eyes.

A freedom that would break free for an instant, and he would focus and be free from the chains for but a moment, and stare back with recognition, with a single word on the tip of his tongue, but would never be uttered; “mom.”

His eyes, she thought, are beautiful. There is life in there, far beyond her reach.

Recently, on June 5th, I turned 40. This is an age I don’t mind, and quite excited about. I thought my 30s was quite exceptional. It made me feel whole and alive that decade. It healed me from my 20’s where I was quite broken and lost. So at age 40 and on, I hope to find more of myself.

Now I know I haven’t updated my tumblr in more than ages, but I’m more of a creeper than a writer that cuts out different letters from magazines and sends it to the lead investigator kind of gal, but I’ve been busy.

I’m married now and have a frickin 4 year old boy! I’m a boy mom! I just want to sit on a bench under the tree for some damn shade!

So, back to my age. When I was 29, I thought I couldn’t possibly make it to 30. I thought I’d cease to exist. I didn’t actually think I’d die or anything, just that some celestial being would just pluck me from existence. So when I hit 30, that morning I felt strange, I was ready for something to happen, only nothing happened.

The only thing that happened was that I got reacquainted with an old friend, who became my boyfriend, who became my fiancé, who became my husband, who became the father of our child.

I used to question why I was so happy. I would subscribe to the saying, “this too shall pass.” Though poetic, was damaging to me.

Now I ask myself, “why not?” Why not be happy? Why not feel love? Why not be hopeful?

Anyway, I’m 40 now, and I’m excited!

So they really are bitches!

Only female mosquitoes bite, because they need the protein in your blood to produce their eggs. Source

Hahaha