The details

I sit here wanting to write, but can't. Life and everything that goes along with that, you know the details, the main part and subtitles have clogged my ability to just let go. I've pent everything up for so long I am afraid of the dam breaking and what will be left after the emotions subside. Question: Will the euphoric feeling of finally being free of the heavy burden be worth the tragic aftermath?

New Year, New Path

I Am a Woman

I Am A Woman, do not limit me.
Do not tell me I do nothing and expect me to do everything, then say I do nothing.
I am diverse. I can be soft and loving. I can nurture, soothe and help heal you.
I can grow life in my body. I am strong. I can endure life being pushed from my body and protect that life like a lioness protects her cubs. I can be ferocious.
I am a woman, do not limit me.
My mind is strong and my emotions deep.

Working on this, but the the grocery store calls my name and I need to pick up something for work while I am out, then make sure the grandparents have what they need for the day.
Yes, I am a woman, I am limitless.

Last night this young girl comes walking in. She is a carefree girl, dresses like a mixture of 70's hippie meets today's young girl. Her hair is blonde with fire engine red streaked through it. Her look works for her but can be very dangerous in today's world. She seems to be very trusting and in need of protection. This is the second time I have seen her and a different guy with her both times. The mother in me is worried. She is bold in her statements, but not rude just fearless. She suddenly looks at me and says, you have a wonderful aurora about you. You are a very bubbly person. She smiles and leaves with the guy she came with. I want to tell this girl to be careful. I want to tell her this world is not ready for her. She reminds me of a muse. She needs a great guy who will appreciate her spirit, tolerate her bluntness, never squash her growth and most importantly, protect her.

Reawakening

I use to write in my old blog everyday, sometimes multiple times a day. What happened? I started college and took com. I & II. Sucked every creative fiber out of me and the need to express myself. I passed both classes and in my rebellion I have retained my need to write in fractured sentences and improper use of comma's and terrible sentence structure (yes, I know. deal with it) .

I graduated with my AA in 2012. I have not gone back, but plan to do so. I was burnt out. Working full time and being a student full time to half time at the end was over whelming. 

I have had other adventures and misfortunes since, which I am sure will all unfold here within in due time. It always does. For now I am taking my time, stretching my creative muscles. I am slowly reintroducing myself to "letting go" and yes expose myself, my life.  

Starting to write again is like becoming acquainted with a new lover. It must be done slowly and trust must be gained. My plan though is to try and write everyday that I can. The fire will return, it just needs rekindling.

I am saddened though to see a lot of the blogs I use to follow have gone vacant, much like mine did. Abandoned and waiting for the writer to return. 

 

...the prayers begin anew

     Well, school is back in session. This is the second week for both my husband and my youngest son. I envy my husband, but not my son. I loved college and one day I will return. College was awesome in the fact that I was lucky to have awesome professors (minus one or two). They loved their jobs and were enthusiastic about what they were teaching and I sat there lapping every morsel of information up. Which brings me to my son and high school. One teacher stands out from amongst all his other teachers this year and not because she is awesome, but rather more because she is quiet the opposite. She is older by my son's description. Older than me I am not sure of, but he says she is older. I asked this because I was trying to figure out where she was coming from. You a new teacher can be strict because she is frightened and hasn't quiet found her groove yet or comfort zone. An older teacher means she is jaded and has lost her goal or meaning to why she became a teacher. Neither one is much better than the other, it just gives me insight...I guess for how I am going to approach this woman during the school year. I have a feeling by the end of the semester War will have been declared, but I am hoping of a summit and peace or a resemblance there of will be reached. The school is aware of her teaching manner because I heard it in the secretaries voice when I made my first (of many I am sure) phone call to register a complaint and issue a warning.

     So, I am sitting here wondering why this woman has turned on her chosen field? Yes, I know students these days are not the students I mingled with in the halls of my old high school days. This is not my first child to send to high school, this is my third and my last. I watch the news and I have watched and listened to my children talk and interact with their friends, some savory and some not. Would I want to ever be a teacher? A resounding Hell No comes to mind, but it is not my hearts desire. I did not spend years in college to pursue such a dream. So again I ask myself a long list of whys. Why has she chosen to start this year and her last few years in a militant style? why is she hell bent to squash her students chances of succeeding before they have even had a chance to start? If she is so bitter toward her chosen field, why is she still teaching? Has she forgotten she has a direct influence in shaping my child or any child's mind? That she influences the decisions they will make for themselves? My youngest son has opted for military life after high school and has decided to not go to college. Breaks my heart on many many levels. Yes, I am already a military mom, but I am not good at it. My oldest son has decided not to reenlist and will be coming home in a year and a half. I won't breath easy until he is out. When he comes out, my youngest will be going in on his heels. Not Navy though like my oldest. No, my youngest has been romanced by the marines. He wants infantry. A mothers true nightmare.

     So yes, I want a teacher to help intrigue my youngest son. I want him to yearn for knowledge like I did. I want him to go to college, have a career and meet a nice girl and have a wonderful life. I don't want him to see war first hand. I don't want him to view the world thru jaded eyes that the military will surely issue him on his first trip abroad. My oldest son has been lucky thus far. He is a hospital corpsman and has been station in the states. He is still blue and will stay blue until he is out. He at least listened and adhered to that. Going green means he would have been the medic for the marines and would have already seen war and tragedy. He hasn't thus far. My youngest is destined for it if he stays on the path he has chosen.

     I pray every year that some teacher will reach him, set him on fire for knowledge.
   
     

 

Well I am Back...

I am back and trying to figure out all this page set up stuff again. New page as the old one has been lost to me. Here's to new beginnings and new adventures. Cheers!